"Daniel, do you play any sports?"

The boy chuckled softly as he helped himself to a cookie he'd "accidentally" dropped on the floor. "Oh, c'mon," he said, noticing the billionaire wrinkle his nose. "Two second rule, remember? Besides, floor's clean. But to you answer your question, no, I don't think I technically play any sports." He seemed to be enjoying his own private joke at the billionaire's expense.

From where he sat in his usual spot, Vlad just raised an eyebrow. The boy's elusiveness to his questions was no longer very endearing. In fact, it was getting most bothersome. "Daniel, where did you get those bruises?"

Danny rolled his eyes as he finished his sweet and wiped the crumbs off the bakery counter. "Mr. What's-your-name, I know that in any bad sitcom bruises have to mean something, but trust me when I say I'm not getting beaten by an abusive girlfriend."

"I never insinuated that you were being harmed by a significant other. Or a girl."

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, and Danny just gawked at him for a second before regaining his composure, smiling slightly. "Wow. Coming from you, that's….wow."

"What?" demanded Vlad, wanting to know what he did wrong. "And what precisely do you mean by that?"

Danny just returned to his work, chuckling. Vlad frowned, not used to being ignored and not liking it one bit. "Daniel, do you have any hobbies?" He would gradually work his way to the question that burned in his mind, and pray that the young man was too dense to notice.

The boy shrugged. "Oh…stuff," he said idly. Vlad realized long ago that the teen did not particularly like to talk about himself. "I like model plane and rockets, though they take forever to build and they're annoying as hell. I also—"A blush colored his face, and he turned his head away, and the boy busied himself with straightening the perfectly adjacent menu boards. "Well, I guess I like the normal stuff for someone my age," he said blandly. "Music, video games, seeing my friends, oh, chatting with suave and mysterious businessmen," he added, smirking when he noticed Vlad flush. "Though I guess that particular hobby is kinda unconventional. Still, I can't tell you how enjoyable it's been. And I was really worryin' this job would be boring as all get out."

"Surely you must have a very good reason for working," said Vlad smoothly, still itching to demand his real answers. "You're here nearly every day, and for so many hours…I imagine it must be taxing, when there are things you'd much rather be doing."

The boy shrugged, then turned his head to greet two customers. When he finished filling their orders, he simply turned back to the man and said, "Necessary evil."

Vlad nodded sympathetically, as if he understood. "For what, if you don't mind me asking? It must be very difficult, when a boy of your age would probably be enjoying summer vacation at this point…." How old are you how old are you can I possibly legally get my hands on you. "…. Perhaps a car payment…college? I can't think of anything else so compelling as to keep you here for so long." Do you truly like men is there someone can I get them out of the way and drag you to my private jet and steal you away to an island so we might go at it like rabbits.

For the first time ever, Danny gave the man a truly annoyed look, as if he knew what he really wanted to ask. But before he could open his mouth, a group of laughing teenagers came strolling in, forming a thick line. The lunch rush was just starting, and Vlad knew that there'd be no point in trying to get an answer out of the boy today. With a sigh, Vlad threw all but his coffee cup away and left the building. Daniel was so attentive to the customers he didn't notice Vlad's goodbye.

When he was outside again, the billionaire looked at the message Danny had scrawled on his Styrofoam cup. Today it read:

To Mr. Damn I'm Stubborn And Really Don't Wanna At Least TRY A Cookie, At Least You Have Some Very Nice Ties. ;)

Love, Danny

P.S, Thx 4 worrying, Mr. Hot Bad Guy who's a real teddy bear, but it's all good. You'll keep your secrets, and I'll keep mine.

~*oOo*~

"You look exhausted."

"Night shift."

"Why are you limping?"

"Hmm? Oh, I slipped on a stair the other day and twisted it."

"Where did that bruise come from?"

"I don't really remember…"

The week went on, and it seemed that every day Danny was suffering from some new malady. After pestering the teen with questions again and again, Vlad was stuck in his seat, fuming furiously as Danny cheerily greeted customers with a black eye. His grip on the éclair that Danny had finally weaseled him into trying was so tight that the cream filling oozed out all over his trembling hand. He looked down at the mess and winced; at least it hadn't been his precious cup.

The boy sounded like some wife trying to come up with excuses for random injuries dealt by an abusive husband. The idea had Vlad gnawing on the inside of his mouth, incensed in the dead of night. The boy seemed much too young to be wed, and much too peppery to permit a boyfriend or a girlfriend physically harm him, but life had taught Mr. Masters that the youth were truly stupid in love, or at least in raw, ornery obsession.

What if the boy were involved with someone cruel and possessive? What if Danny was afraid for his life every afternoon, trying to convince himself that he somehow deserved the abuse and that whoever was dealing it out honestly loved him? Vlad's cold eyes burned as he considered the youth, and he longed to strike someone, though he didn't know whom.

More than any other point in his life, Vlad Masters longed to be the clichéd, gallant hero, the one who carried his love to safety after knocking the teeth straight out of an abusive romantic rival's mouth. He imagined Danny's arms wound around his neck, the scent of the boy flooding his senses and making his head swim, the soft touch of lips brushing past the hollow in Vlad's throat, to the rough stubble on his chin, to his li—

"Uh, dude? Did that éclair owe you money or something? You squeezed the life out of the poor thing."

Vlad started out of his reverie and noticed Danny standing next to him, shaking his head. "Y'know, when people try new foods, they typically consume them. You know, by opening their mouths…chewing it…"

"Very funny," snapped the man, who fussily began wiping the crème off his hands with a napkin Danny offered. "Thank you. Daniel, I—"

Danny brought out another éclair from behind his back, smiling broadly. "C'mon, you big baby, I want to see you at least try it. It's a day old, but it should still be good."

Rolling his eyes, Vlad took the puff pastry and with exaggerated reluctance, tried it, only to be pleasantly surprised. It was heavenly delicious, and it wasn't long before the billionaire had finished off the entire thing. He would have licked his fingers if his manners would have permitted it.

Danny threw back his head and laughed merrily; Vlad thrilled at the sound.

"I wish I'd taken a picture. That was priceless."

"Thank you, Daniel." Before the boy could turn away, the businessman seized him, noting the soft gasp of surprise he uttered. This was the first time the two had approached each other without a counter—a respectful, businesslike counter, keeping their banter as mere silly games—separating the two. Danny swallowed heavily, bravado draining out of his face as Vlad stared at him hungrily, his eyes a pair of fishhooks desperately rooting about in Danny's wide blue ones, searching and rooting about wildly.

"Daniel?" Ugh, he hated how shy he suddenly sounded, like some blasted schoolgirl! "I'm—I'm glad of you. I mean it."

Danny's surprised expression gave way to a big grin, though it looked shy and uncertain and dopey and adorable all at once.

"No problem man," he said gently, before disentangling himself from Vlad's grip and heading back behind the counter.

~*oOo*~

The boy had money problems, and was dealing with a bunch of loan sharks. That would explain why he worked so hard for so long. His fingers drummed against his desk as he stared blankly at several drafts, rereading the same line over and over again without realizing it.

Or…the boy had an abusive guardian, which would explain the injuries and Daniel's reluctance to say anything about it. While he fervently hoped that Daniel was old enough to not need a parent, Vlad didn't know. He had tried to learn the boy's age, but Daniel had wanted his in return, and Vlad had balked then. No need to scare the boy by letting him think he was some sort of cougar. God, so many questions! He wanted to know everything!

The next day as he walked to the bakery, Vlad was going over several different tactics in his head, wondering if he should perhaps finally give in on his front and tell the boy his blasted name. Danny hadn't recognized his face; perhaps he wouldn't know his name, either. He didn't want things to change, for the young man to stiffen up and treat him differently, but if he let down some of his walls, maybe Daniel would too. Then I can learn more about him and perhaps—

He opened the door and the bell dinged, much as it always had. But when the businessman came in, he blinked in confusion, at first wondering if he'd come into the right place. An unfamiliar, gangly youth with several tattoos and piercings was waiting behind the counter in Daniel's place.

"'Sup?" asked the boy, and Vlad just blinked at him. "Can I help you with something, sir?"

Disoriented, Vlad looked around, peering hopefully beyond the teen at the storage room behind him, hoping to see a sign of spiky black hair. "Is Daniel…?"

The barista whose name evidently was Matt snorted. "You and the rest of the world have been asking that since eight. Naw, Danny's not here today. Sick day."

"Sick?" Vlad's voice took on a weedy, apprehensive tone. The boy shrugged.

"Either he's sick or he got hurt somehow; I dunno. Maybe he's just faking it, though that doesn't seem much like Danny. I'm filling in for him today, so whatever." Matt shrugged. "Can I take your order?"

A pause. "Do you know when he'll be coming back?"

"I don't know when or if. What can I get for you?"

Vlad shook his head distractedly, appetite lost. "No….no, thank you. I don't believe I'm very hungry today."

The man left without another word, biting his lip.

~*oOo*~

Three days later, Danny finally returned, looking weak and wan, but no worse for wear. Vlad had greeted him politely enough when he saw the young man again, trying to mask his true elation.

"So, have you been well?" asked Vlad as Danny filled out his time-old order. Danny smiled.

"Been kinda busy, and there have been some…things, but I think everythin's gonna be just fine, thanks. It's been weird, not seeing you, you know."

"I second the notion," said Vlad as Danny handed him a bag. "I've…Daniel, if there's anything you ever need or want to talk about, I'm here."

God, that sounded so pathetic he wanted to kill himself. But Danny gave him a kind look.

"Thanks, pal. It's always nice chatting with you. Always look forward to it."

Danny grabbed a nearby marker and began to scrawl on it. "To Mr…."

Vlad took the young man's thin wrist in his own, effectively making the barista's ears turn scarlet, his mouth a small 'o.' Vlad smiled lightly.

"My name is Vlad, dear boy."

And with that, the billionaire plucked the coffee cup out of Danny's limp hold and brought the boy's other hand to his lips for the briefest second. Then, without another word, Vlad left, leaving behind a frozen mess in his wake.

~*oOo*~

Whatever this was, Vlad was fairly certain it didn't constitute as 'illegal.' Or creepy. It was considerate, perhaps even thoughtful. Didn't young girls fawn over slightly obsessive\ men these days in the media? Vlad adjusted his binoculars, which were rather difficult to use considering he was wearing shades, and peered out the window.

Danny had had no idea just how close Vlad had been to hiring a private eye to track down the boy's whereabouts. Though it sounded like the boy had just had a bad case of the Common Cold, his favorite cashier was very possibly harming himself or being harmed by others.

It was natural for Vlad, being a concerned adult, to want to look out for his young friend. Natural to pursue answers when they were not more forthwith coming.

Natural to wait for Danny's shift to end and pursue the ignorant teen as he pedaled down the street on his bicycle, a gym bag slung over his shoulder. Vlad had felt better seeing it; perhaps the boy WAS engaged in a sport of some kind. Vlad had been a member of his college's rugby team, and the occasional bump or a bruise hadn't been foreign to him then.

But why wouldn't Daniel simply say that? Why lie?

He wished he could have brought his limousine, but that was much too conspicuous—as it was, his car was getting a lot of looks from passerby. He avoided trailing Danny too closely and occasionally circled around the block before quickly tailing him again, desperate to look like a confused driver who had gotten lost rather than a creepy stalker. He even asked for unnecessary directions from passerby so that there would at least a witness for his innocence if the police pulled him over, but Vlad felt that nothing quite settled the police force like a good, hearty "donation," so he had stacks of bribe money in his map compartment just in case he had to pay someone off.

But thankfully, no one approached him, and so Vlad kept following Danny, wishing that he'd hired a professional to do this, but that had seemed remarkably impersonal. When you cared enough to stalk someone, you might as well have the decency to do it yourself.

For twenty minutes, Vlad followed Danny, resisting the urge to simply pull up to the boy and offer the teen a ride. Then, Danny pulled into a parking lot, and the billionaire found himself peering up at an old sign.

The Isabelle Crown Hall of Performing Arts?

Intrigued, Vlad watched as Danny slowed his bike to a stop, chained his bicycle to a nearby rack, and headed off inside, bag swinging behind him. Did the boy have another job here?

Vlad quickly drove into the mostly-deserted parking lot, squeezing his fancy car between two others so that it at least sort of blended in, waited a moment, and then hurried inside after Daniel, glass doors swinging shut behind him.

To his dismay, he quickly found himself in something that appeared to be a maze. As he could neither see nor hear the boy any longer, he quickly took a left and found himself in a collection of halls filled with little rooms that appeared to be empty studios. He wandered around the vacant hall for a bit, came to the end, and then went back to the entrance, taking a right this time.

After perhaps a half hour of wandering around a mostly empty building, Vlad found himself drawn to a large set of doors, from which he heard music drifting sweetly from behind. He paused, enjoying the slightly haunting tune for a moment or so before he dared to open the door just a crack.

Row after row of seats, and a colossal stage at its center—he was in an auditorium. His eyes wandered to the brightly lit stage, skulking back in the darkness like a rat as he wandered over to the last row of seats shrouded in shadow, sitting down.

There were several young girls in plain white tutus and tights listening attentively to a short, wizened, and from the sound of it, a very bossy woman lecturing them. Even though Vlad was sitting so far away, he could hear her booming voice very well:

"You are Juliet's attendants, da?" she barked. "Act like graceful, giggling maidens rather than awkward geese! Star, you are much too stiff when you move—do not pout, I will not have robots on my stage! And you must remember to time your side leaps! The Capulets will not hire girls who do not know how to synchronize their movements, and I will not have them on stage! We will begin again, and this time, I expect you to synchronize! Move as one!"

She turned her head to the curtain. "Paulina, you must join them! What good are Juliet's attendants without Juliet! And Danny, I want you to watch her movements closely. Romeo's moves compliment Juliet's!"

Vlad's head swung forwards; a scowling, tan beauty in a magnificent white tutu appeared from one side of the stage, and from another, Daniel appeared. He was clad in a blue and gold tunic with tights. Vlad swallowed as he let his eyes wander up the boy's legs, displayed so nicely in those tights….wandering up and up and up as the music began again….

The dark-haired Juliet danced gracefully, circled by her pretty young attendants and her nurse, breaking from them to meet with Danny, who had begun to elegantly sashay his way towards her. His arms wrapped around her waist and Vlad felt a brutal stab of jealousy as the girl clung to him like a koala bear would a tree. His quick, lithe feet danced about the stage, dark slippers rising as he began to spin the two about, as if they were not youngsters and instead two porcelain figures in a music box….

The sweet music became unabashedly dark; the two separated, and while Juliet looked rather soppish in her attempts to look sad, there was unmistakable anguish in Danny's eyes as the two broke apart, slaves to the music. The Juliet girl pirouetted again and again and again as Danny spun about her, adagio transferring to attitude to something wild. She pranced; he leapt, she twirled, he flew. Sweat gleamed on his brow as they both completed a grand barrement, she spinning clockwise, he spinning counterclockwise. Vlad resisted the urge to stand up and applaud vigorously when the music ended, completely confused when the woman in charge only barked "Better, but Danny needs to be more masculine! Romeo is like flower, but the flower has steel! Steel! Paulina, Juliet is innocent young girl, not buxom seductress! Again!"

He watched for what felt like hours, wondering if maybe Daniel was just getting his injuries from ballet practice. Vlad could certainly understand why Danny did not want to tell him—very likely the young man was afraid of being judged. But how did he get so many when he appeared to be an excellent dancer, a swan prince turned human?

Later, when the ballerinas were instructed to head to the showers, the instructor took Danny's shoulder and started talking softly with him. Despite how hard Vlad strained his ears, he could not make out what she was saying, though Daniel certainly looked distressed. At the least the room was empty, so his voice boomed a bit:

"It's not gonna be a problem much longer. Your Romeo is going to be in fine shape to perform next week."

More whispering. Then, Danny sighed.

"Look, you know why I did it, and it wasn't because I wanted to. It's getting too dangerous. I…I'm sorry, Madame, but there's nothing I can do about it."

The scowling woman made a sympathetic clucking sound, and patted Danny on the elbow—the highest point she could reach. Then, the two left the stage, turning the lights off with them, leaving Vlad alone in the dark.

~*oOo*~

"Hey Mr…Vlad," said Danny as Vlad entered the following afternoon. "Just give me a sec—I'll have your order ready in a jiffy."

"That won't be necessary today, actually," said Vlad smoothly as he slowly approached the counter, noticing how Danny raised an eyebrow. "I'll be trying something different. Oh, yes, very funny, ha-ha," he snapped, when the clerk tumbled to his knees and lifted his arms towards heaven. "You've convinced me, dear boy. Are you satisfied?"

Danny chortled as he stood up, wiping his eyes. "Eh, I s'pose it was kind of flattering that I could make a sandwich good enough for someone to want to eat it every day," he said modestly, picking up a notebook. "But hopefully you learn to like some new stuff…your next barista might just not get your order right," he added teasingly. "Then there would be hell to pay."

"A new barista?" asked Vlad disdainfully. "As if. You're the only clerk I'd ever care to have waiting on me."

The teen blinked but quickly recovered. "Awww, you're sweet. But you'll find someone new. Still," He wagged his finger teasingly. "He won't have my style. But it's good for you to try new things, y'know?"

"Why fix what isn't broken?" asked Vlad. "I come to this place every day because I like the food, yes…but also because the bakery isn't without its charms…and smells." He reached out and tucked a dark spike of hair behind the boy's ear. "I'd be quite delighted if my current arrangement could be a little less…temporary."

Danny looked like he wanted to retort something, gulped like a fish out of water, and glanced down at his notepad, ears bright red.

"Still," said Vlad brightly. "I suppose today I will have a bit of a shake-up in my routine…I'll have the tomato bisque, Daniel." The name was beautiful, sweet as clover honey on the tongue.

The normally ever-efficient barista just nodded absentmindedly, and stammered something, face still quite flushed.

~*oOo*~

"Daniel?" asked Vlad when he had finished. "Do you mind explaining to me how you got that scratch on your cheek?"

"Cat," muttered Danny as he mopped the floor behind the cashier. His face said all too clearly 'Mind your own damn business.' Vlad settled back in his seat like a king, dark blue eyes flashing. Well, if the boy wanted to be a challenge….

"..I see. How unfortunate. But I was wondering if you could possibly help me with a conundrum I'm in."

The young man glanced up curiously and wiped his hands on his apron. "Sure. Uh, what d'you need?"

Vlad smiled apologetically. "My secretary had planned to go to the American Ballet Theater tonight for a performance of Coppelia with her mother, but I believe the poor woman had a…kidney stone, so my secretary just gave me her tickets. I've never been to the ABT, but I've heard it's quite the experience." He tasted success as soon as he heard Danny gasp. "The best in the country, I've heard…now, I know a young man like you would likely be bored by such things, but I was wondering…"

Danny had frozen solid behind the register. "Mr. Mas—Vlad, you can't seriously be asking…I-I mean, it would be fabulous and amazing, but those tickets are seriously—"

"They are non-refundable," said Vlad shortly. "And I did not pay a cent for them, so I ask that you don't feel guilty. What I'm asking for is that you come with me at the end of your shift. Perhaps we'll pick up a spot of dinner on our way too, mmm?"

Danny just gawked at him and blushed—a truly adorable sight, Vlad thought—slowly raising his hands to his face. He looked overwhelmed.

"Uh, well, t-that's very kind of you and all, but I'm not dressed very appropriately, big guy." He gestured helplessly towards his flour-dusted apron and plain uniform. "I don't think I could go anywhere fancy dressed up like this…"

"Oh, they will not mind," said Vlad breezily. "And if they do, they will have a word with me, which needless to say, they will not enjoy. I will pick you up at seven, little one."

"But-"

"Hush." Vlad winked. "It's the least I can do considering your superb customer service over the past few weeks, my boy. Will you come away with me?"

Danny exhaled. "Sure, I'll go with you…but can you stop talking like that? I feel like you're a stranger trying to seduce me with candy."

"But you know who I am," Vlad pouted—dear lord, he NEVER pouted—"And why seduce you with something sweet when you are invariably sweet as it is?"

"Jesus, where do you find these lines?" Danny complained, though his eyes glinted with amusement and something Vlad could not identify.

"It's a date?"

Danny grinned. "It's a date."

~*oOo*~

When at last the Open sign was turned round to Closed, Danny stepped out of the bakery, uncertainly eyeing the few cars that were there. When he heard Vlad calling his name, his head swiveled around and his jaw dropped.

Vlad smirked at him from the window of his limousine, beckoning the boy to come hither with a finger. Shaking his head slightly, Danny slowly approached, smiling.

"You came." There was a hint of wonder in his voice. Vlad snorted.

"Was there any doubt?" he asked dryly, not wanting to know the answer. He stepped outside the posh black vehicle towards the young man, hoping he came off as soft and reassuring. Judging by Daniel's nervous swallow and smile, he just looked predatorial. "My dear, you look lovely this evening."

Danny just looked at him. "I smell like biscuits and there's flour in my hair."

"Mmm…it suits." Vlad bowed ridiculously low and opened the car door. "Your chariot awaits, my good sir."

Danny snorted, but hesitantly clamored in, looking all around himself with bright eyes as Vlad settled in after him, and closed the door. "Wow. This is pretty freaking sweet. You live in here?"

"Don't be silly." Danny eyed the mini bar and laughed as the car began to pull out and zoom down the road.

"Just a thought. You do pretty well for yourself, huh?"

"I suppose." He reached for a nearby pail filled with ice and fancy bottles. "Can I interest you in a glass of champagne, Daniel?"

The blush on Danny's face deepened. He looked sorely tempted, but said simply, "Uh, too young for that, Mr. Masters. But thanks."

Vlad leaned back on his leather seat. Hmmm. He'd thought that'd likely be the case.

"Well, hopefully we'll find something at the restaurant you'll like. So, how's work been?"

They chattered for awhile; Danny slowly began to ease up, though it was still painfully obvious he was somewhat unused to such posh environments. Vlad wondered what sort of people his parents were, if Daniel was fairly well-off to be able to afford regular ballet classes.

"What do your parents do for a living, young man?"

The boy shifted in his seat. "Depends which one you ask. Mom will have a little more tact and say 'paranormal investigator,' whereas my dad will just call himself a ghostbuster."

This boy certainly raised some interesting questions inside Vlad. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"One. An older sister. She's at Yale." Danny's short tone told Vlad that he didn't particularly like to talk about his sister. Vlad took the point and shut up for a bit.

Danny eyed Vlad's tuxedo warily as the limousine pulled into the parking lot of an enormous, incredibly posh-looking building. The teen swallowed. "Oh….oh, we're not….having….dinner here, are we?" he squeaked.

For a boy who could dish out so many raunchy compliments, thought Vlad, he certainly could turn red. "But of course."

Danny shook his head again, intimidated expression appearing again as the driver parked and politely opened the door for them both. There was a bowing footman waiting for them at the door, and Danny's eyes became fixated on the colossal chandelier.

The waiter was dressed in a tuxedo, but he didn't so much as blink when he saw Danny's grubby attire, instead bowing deeply and directing them for a set table for two isolated in a corner of the establishment, with a lovely bouquet of flowers in the center. Vlad had called ahead of time and made reservations.

Danny fidgeted when he saw Vlad hold pull out the velvet-cushioned chair for him, and he slid into it with as much grace as he could muster at the moment, which apparently wasn't very much. Vlad seated himself on the other side, smiling broadly. He certainly looked right at home in this environment, whereas Danny shrunk in on himself a little, eyeing his woebegone clothes and looking somewhat mortified. The man cleared his throat, anxious to coax the boy out of his shell.

"Have you ever been to the Palm Court before, Daniel?" he asked as he unfolded his linen napkin and neatly put it on his lap, Danny scrambling to copy him. The teen let out a nervous giggle, and then blushed harder.

"Uh, no. This place…." His eyes swept to the cream and gold ceiling, the magnificent windows. "It's so cool, I feel like I'm in a palace or something. But I bet the theater's gonna look even more incredible," he said sincerely as a waiter bustled over to light the candle on their table. "I…thanks so much, man. I kinda think I'm dreaming."

Vlad smiled, both at Daniel's starry-eyed look and at the pleased tingle he felt in his body. "You're quite welcome, dear boy. It's the least I can do for your exquisite customer service."

Danny rolled his eyes. "Yeah. I made coffee and a sandwich for you every day for a couple of weeks. Clearly I need a trip to a five star restaurant and an evening to a ritzy ballet. Only thing missing is a freaking carriage, but considering you got a limousine waiting for us, that's a pretty even substitute." He took a sip of the water that a waiter poured him, opened the menu, and visibly choked. "Wow. This place is pretty….pretty good, huh?" Judging by the way he glanced at his pocket, he seemed to have meant "pretty expensive."

Vlad carelessly ordered a glass of cognac from a waitress. "I suppose it is…they use only the finest quality ingredients."

"Sounds like a good sales pitch for the place, bud."

"Well, it's not quite like the food you make, little badger…."

The boy glared at him. Vlad held up his hands and shrugged. "What? You are allowed to call me 'Mr. Hot-Secret-Agent-Looking-Spy-Business-Man' and 'Mr. Suave-And-Sexy-Suit-Guy' and I am not allowed one term of endearment?"

Ignoring that, Danny turned the menu over and paled as he looked at the appetizers. "Wow….sixty bucks for a plate of…actually, that looks just one oyster. That thing better have a freaking pearl inside of it…"

"Would you care to try it?"

"Uh…no. I think I'll just get a salad." His eyes fluctuated towards the cheapest-looking item on the menu, which happened to be thirty dollars.

"Nonsense. What would you like?" Vlad picked up his own menu, eyes flicking carelessly through it. "Perhaps you'd enjoy trying the Taste platter, which is a little bit of everything? You can try bits of King Crab, the porterhouse steak….this delightful salad….soup…"

"I'm good, thanks," said Danny quickly. The price of the Taste was more than he made in two weeks!

But his jaw dropped when the man cheerfully ordered two of the most expensive item on the menu as if it were nothing.

~*oOo*~

"Really, really good, but high prices for these 'big' servings, huh?" asked Danny, turning over a tiny piece of steak as if he thought there would be more underneath it. "I'm kinda afraid I'm going to wind up eating the garnish without noticing."

"Then I'll order another," offered Vlad, but Danny just crossed his arms and looked at him pointedly.

"You're really spoiling me rotten, man. Not cool."

"This treatment is hardly more than what you give to your customers," said Vlad coolly, taking a sip of cognac. "I don't think anyone who's been lucky enough to be served by you doesn't leave without feeling just a little bit special."

Danny leaned back in his seat, blue eyes sparkling in a way that made Vlad nearly breathless. "Well, that's the nicest compliment I've ever gotten from a customer. I'll have to think of some way to repay you."

"You already have," said Vlad, remembering to breathe and resuming eating. "But by all means, please continue giving me free pastries." Danny laughed.

When the dessert tray came along—all fancy and tiered like an old English queen's, noted Danny—the teen bit into a piece of pumpkin cheesecake and rolled his eyes back, moaning in pleasure. The businessman tried very hard not to think what it would be like to see that expression underneath him. "Yum. There's crack in this thing so good. Buuut," he said cheerfully, plucking a nearby cherry off a dessert and putting it in his mouth. "Still not quite the chocolate scones. I'll have to give you a bag of those before I leave so you'll know what I mean."

Vlad had helped himself to a bit of blueberry crumble, but he looked crumbled.

"You are leaving your job…very soon?"

Danny looked down at one of his mini-pies, no longer looking very enchanted.

"Yeah. It's been fun, but summer'll be over before you know it. Then I have to go back to school." A hint of bitterness crept into his tone. "Fun times."

"Do you go to college, Daniel?" asked Vlad desperately. "Is that what you've been paying for?"

Startled, Danny looked up and opened his mouth, but just then another ass-kissing waiter arrived with the check (and a complimentary basket of goodies). Danny reached out for it to check the damage, but Vlad snatched it out of his reach.

"Hey!" Danny exclaimed as Vlad drew out his gold credit card. "Vlad, I can't just let you—this meal must've been at least three hu—"

"Pocket change, dear boy. Now let us away—we have a performance to attend."

~*oOo*~

"Do you like ballet, Daniel?" asked Vlad as the boy checked the program, practically bouncing in his seat. Danny shrugged.

"Well, yeah. Sort of. I…" he faltered, and looked at his hands. The billionaire looked at the heavy velvet curtains of the stage.

"I think it is simply beautiful," he said, noticing out of the corner of his eye that the teen was looking at him. "Magnificent. Such language and passion and expression demonstrated in a single movement! A remarkable art."

The rosy hue in Danny's cheeks returned, but he said nothing for a moment. Then—

"I wish I could dance here," he said quietly, almost inaudibly, wistfully looking at the ornate decoration of the theater. "It's my dream."

Vlad feigned surprise, though he inwardly crowed in victory. "Why, do you dance, Daniel? Are you a ballerina?"

The way the boy's expression darkened certainly caught Vlad off guard. "I—I mean," he stammered. "I do not know what you call a male ballerina….if you are a ballerina, and I would think it incredible if you were, but I am not insinuating that you are un-masculine or—"

"Vlad?"

The man wanted to kick himself. "Yes, Daniel?"

Danny put a finger to his lip. "Shhh. It's starting. Be quiet."

~*oOo*~

The storyline of Coppelia centered on a rather stupid man who fell in love with a doll. Vlad supposed he enjoyed it, but he much preferred to watch Danny, who was spellbound by the entire performance, at rapt attention in his seat. Every so often Vlad could faintly hear him murmur "Oh, nice one" when a ballerina accomplished a particularly difficult spin, or hiss in disappointment when he seemed to notice some obscure falter. Vlad wondered if he were like so when he watched his favorite football team play. He wondered if Daniel would ever have the opportunity to tease him about it.

A faint sadness crept into Danny's face when the man and his finance began to dance with the townspeople, which surprised and worried Vlad. When the play came to an end and everyone stood to clap, Danny joined in the applause, but it was half-hearted; the glow that had animated him was gone.

Vlad wrapped an arm around Danny's shoulders as they trudged down the steps. "Did you enjoy it?" He was trying to figure out what idiotic thing he'd done.

Danny shrugged absently. "It was nice. Thanks for taking me, Vlad."

The man smiled and squeezed the teen's shoulder. It was wonderful to hear him say that.

Neither of them felt the need to break the stillness between them for a long time. Danny was staring pensively into space, as if he were debating something. After receiving a questioning glance from Vlad, he sighed, and looked down.

"In a company," said Danny wearily. "I'd just be a ballet dancer. I don't like being called a stupid ballerina."

"So you are a dancer," breathed Vlad, his polished shoes approaching the young man. "I think that is marvelous."

Danny smiled slightly, though it was not a happy smile. His eyes were almost pitying.

"Tell that to the kids at my school," he said shortly, wrapping his arms tighter around himself and shivering. "Dude, it's freaking July. What business does the weather have being freaking chilly out?"

Vlad immediately took off his cloak and draped it around his shoulders. Danny flushed, tried to push it back, and upon looking at Vlad's expression, reluctantly put the oversized jacket on. "…thanks," he said begrudgingly. The billionaire just looked at him.

"Why, what do the people at school do?" he asked, mouth drying when he thought of the numerous bruises that dotted Danny's skin so regularly. "Surely they wouldn't hurt you—"

"Surely you don't know young people, Mr. Masters," said Danny quietly. Vlad reeled back as if he'd been slapped, and glared at him.

"What is that supposed to mean? Daniel, you are such a wonderful young man; why would anyone hurt you? How could anyone hurt you now, in the summer when there is no school?"

Danny drew Vlad's black leather jacket more tightly around himself. "I talk the way I do, look the way I do, work at a freaking bakery and dance fucking ballet. Why do you think they would hold me down and slam a door against my arms or legs or head?" he asked dryly, unresponsive to Vlad's cringe. "You think that once I'm not in my school's halls, they're just gonna stop? You know what I have to put up with every time I go online, every time my Dad asks why the hell someone throws a brick through one of our windows with the word FAG written on it? Every time I have to bike like a freaking maniac just so that Dash doesn't 'accidentally' run into me with his Camaro?"

Danny blinked and flushed, looking down at his wrung hands. He looked ashamed. "I'm really sorry. Stuff's been….going on…didn't mean to lose it on you—especially when we're having such a nice-"

The boy squawked as Vlad yanked him into an embrace, scrabbling furiously to get away. "Hey, what are ya—"

"Oh, Daniel," whispered Vlad against his neck, ignoring the teen's struggles. "Why haven't you told anyone—the police, your parents, me?"

Danny put his hands on the businessman's shoulders and attempted to shove his way free. But Vlad gave as much as a statue, and the teen settled at last, his blue eyes incredibly cold.

"Too bad for me that Dash's dad just so happens to be Chief of Police, and no one on the squad takes me seriously when I get beat up or get a rib broken, or am too fucking afraid for my life to leave my house for three days! And what are my parents supposed to do about it? As far as they know, the bullying's just too bad but something 'everyone goes through eventually,'" he simpered, mocking someone's voice. "As far as they're concerned, I bring it on myself by insisting on doing ballet to begin with! They stopped paying for my classes so I got a job. But I'm tired," whimpered Danny, stamping his foot. "I'm tired of hurting and I'm sick of being scared and of having to hide behind the counter whenever I see one of them go past the window!" His angry voice was beginning to escalate into sobs.

"Shhhh," soothed Vlad, pulling Danny into a tighter embrace. But the boy just started fighting like a trapped coyote in a cage. "Mmph! D-Daniel, stop it….I wish you had come to me. I could have taken care of it…."

Danny looked resigned. "What, by throwing a bunch of money at the problem and praying it goes away? Maybe that works for you, but it won't work for me. Now let me go or…or I'll scream," he said warningly. Vlad sighed.

"Then scream. But I want to help you. Isn't there anything I can do?" he asked sadly, pressing his lips against Danny's forehead. Not a kiss, just a simple touch; the feeling of skin pressed against skin. "I can drive you to school….to practice. I can protect—"

"There's nothing you can do about it, Vlad," said the teen said sadly as he drew back, refusing to make eye contact with the man. "But it'll be over soon."

"Why's that?"

"Because I'm quitting. My job and the dancing. Then people should leave me alone."

Vlad felt his heart sink. "You can't. If you wish to stop working, that's all well and good—I'll pay for your classes, but you can't stop doing what you pour your heart and soul into on a daily basis. I've seen you dance before, Daniel, and you are the most beautiful—"

"What?" asked Danny sharply. "You…you've seen…"

Horrified, Vlad bit his lip, knowing he had gone much too far. "Yes, I followed you because I was worried, never imagined you were being bullied, I swear, I just was curious and I—"

His voice caught in his throat; Danny looked enraged, scared.

"You…you fucking followed me to practice?" he asked, his lips barely moving, voice a low croak from panic. "What the…the hell is wrong with you? You can't just…why did you….is THAT why you came in every day, just so that you could STALK me? Did you think I was….what….." At that point, Danny was trembling with so much anger he could barely speak. Vlad closed his eyes.

"I'm a man of routine. I thought I told you that previously. But I wanted to see you. You make me happy. You make me glad to be alive."

Danny's furious look melted away to an incredulous sort of weariness.

"…I don't know if that's the creepiest thing I've ever heard, or the sweetest," he said tiredly, turning his head upwards to the sky, as if he were asking it for help. "But..Vlad, if you want this to…turn into something….I…"

"I love you."

"You don't know what you're saying."

"I love you," repeated Vlad, his hands no longer holding Danny captive but snaking to take hold of Danny's, fingertips running over the palms. "I want to help you. I love everything about you."

The boy extricated himself from the billionaire's grasp, looking tormented. A sad smile appeared on his face, and Danny stood on tiptoe to brush his lips against Vlad's. But before the man could seize him and pull him closer, he immediately stepped back, both red and apologetic.

"…it'd be nice, if the world were kind enough to leave it at that," he said regretfully. "….or if life were, for that matter. Goodnight, Vlad." Danny retreated away from the streetlamp under which they stood. "And goodbye."

Vlad just watched him go, his heart hammering behind his ribs. For a moment, he was simply numb, and then warning bells started to shriek in his head. "W-Wait! Let me drive you home at least!" he exclaimed, running after the young man. "Oh, for the love of—waaiiiittt!"

He seized hold of Danny's wrist. The teen didn't turn around to look at him.

"Don't do this."

"Then don't YOU do THIS," snarled Vlad. "I will have you."

"You can't."

"Do you like me?" asked the man despairingly. The teen huffed and turned around, and Vlad was distraught to see the tears rushing down his face.

"Of…of course I do, Vlad, but it doesn't work out that way! I'm a KID! You think that we're going to get together, like some prince and a poor person in a fairy tale and get along JUST FINE because of LOVE? 'Love' isn't the crap policemen like to hear when they discover you've been playing around with someone half your age, Vlad!"

"You wouldn't be in trouble. I'd be the villain who seduced a young boy into doing bad things if we were caught," Vlad pleaded. "I'm prepared to take the risk."

"Vlad…"

"Please."

Danny just looked at him, his eyes immeasurably sad.

"Please let go of me."

"I can't."

"Grow up."

"Please."

"Vlad. Let me go. Right now."

"What do I have to do to convince you?" Vlad begged. "I'll do anything you want. Please."

Danny just shook his head, smiling sadly. "The only thing I'll ever able to be is your barista, Vlad. It's a nice thought, being with you, but you'd get sick of me pretty quick. You'd get caught, and even if you managed to weasel out of jail time, you'd be thought of as a pedophile for the rest of your life. You'd be ruined. And I'd be the slutty boy who thought he was a grownup and that he was in love and was treated like a mindless fuck puppet." He bumped his forehead against Vlad's and frowned. "Don't you see? I'm trying to protect both our asses here. We're no good for each other."

"You are perfect for me."

"You're bored and rich." Danny sighed again. "And I happen to be different and make kickass sandwiches. You'd like me for about a day before you got sick of me hanging around, my low-brow poorness, the age barrier, my so-called ignorance. Men like you are always on the lookout for some young person who just so happens to be an old soul. I'm not an old soul, Vlad."

Vlad's grip became so tight it was brutal, though Danny did not cry out.

"Is that what you'd really think of me? That I'd just dump you the moment you became an inconvenience?"

"It's happened before," said Danny dully. Vlad closed his eyes and counted to ten.

"At the very least, let me help you be safe. If I can't have you, at least let me protect you. If those imbeciles realize just who exactly you're associated with, they won't dare lay a finger on you again."

"I doubt it."

"Trust me. Please."

Danny looked doubtful. "If I let you do that, that leaves you free to call in favors, and I-"

"I don't mean to do anything of the sort," said Vlad sincerely. "Don't give up your dream, Daniel, and don't put yourself at risk. I'll start coming to escort you to and from work. School. Practice. If school is so terrible, perhaps we can see about getting you transferred."

"Vlad..."

"Just trust me." Vlad raised Danny's hand to his lips again, and the boy smiled awkwardly but warmly.

"I give it about a day and a half."

"I will enjoy proving you wrong." The lips skimmed up Danny's fingers, past his wrist, to his forehead again. "Just how old are you, Daniel?"

"Sixteen."

Just two years...."I don't suppose you'd...if you would, hypothetically, be so kind as to give me an opportunity...would you be willing to wait for me?"

Danny pressed his forehead against Vlad's shoulder and smiled.

"I think hypothetical-me would be pretty cool with that hypothetical outcome," he said gently, feeling Vlad's arms wrap around him again.

"Hopefully, rather than a hypothetical, it'll be a definite."

And that's a wrap. Any of you disappointed? No hot yaoi or sweet goo or wedding bells? *Shrugs* You can't always get what you want is probably not a bad moral for this story. Danny's not being heartless, he's being practical. Too many people allow themselves to get carried away with fledging feelings and wind up regretting it for the rest of their lives. With any luck, Vlad can be patient and perhaps these two have a good chance of surviving the odss. I may write a fic about that one day...

Adieu, my lovelings! Please review!