In the following weeks, Harris kept his promise to see more of Joshua as much because he had discovered that he genuinely liked being around him as because he needed to in order to do his job. Joshua became a regular fixture in Harris's life- first with just a walk here and a coffee or tea there, maybe once or twice a week, and then more and more often, until Harris saw or spoke to Joshua at least every other day.
Harris had been alive for more than a century, so he looked at time differently than mortals did- but even so he was amazed when he discovered that several months had passed almost without his even realizing it.
It occurred to Harris while he was in the Archive, waiting with a dozen or so other cupids to file some paperwork with the front desk.
The Archive was run by a man- well, an angel, technically- called Valentine, and though Arthur, the head of Harris's branch, might have been his immediate boss Valentine was the final authority. Harris or Merlin or any of their colleagues could check files in and out, but they were always returned to the Archive. In the bookcases that spiraled upward into infinity above the circular room containing the front desk were the files of every human being, alive, dead or as yet unborn. Some were slender like Joshua's had been when Harris first received it. Others were hundreds of pages long, thick with annotations. Others still were closed, belonging to those who had not been matched and never would be. Only Valentine knew the location and contents of every single file.
Harris did not envy him his job.
As Harris waited, he looked up at those bookcases and wondered, for the first time, about his own file. It had always been up there, somewhere, but it had never before occurred to Harris to think about what it contained. He could remember so little about his life as a man. It had never really seemed to matter before.
For a moment, though, he did wonder- and for some reason that made him think of Joshua.
Without thinking about it, Harris paged through his contacts list and called him. As Harris sat there and listened to it ring, a fellow cupid- looking very smart in his black suit- gave Harris an odd look. No one made phone calls in the Archive, because no one had anyone to call- and because cupids normally just faded out of existence until they were called to the front desk, no one really got bored. Harris couldn't explain it to himself, but the idea of drifting like that, of becoming even less real than he had already was, had begun- of late- to fill him with unease.
Harris realized that he had felt that way since he met Joshua. He realized, too, how long ago that had been. He had spent half that time with other charges and got twice as much done- and yet, between all the time he was spending with Joshua and his work with his other charges, the weeks had passed so quickly.
When all of that occurred to him, Harris panicked briefly and hoped Joshua wouldn't answer, but after the third ring he did.
"Hey, Harris," Joshua said. "What's up?"
Harris had yet to figure out what to do with that phrase. He let out a long breath, gut turning over. Joshua's voice made everything that had seemed so calamitous a moment ago not so bad after all, but Harris had an idea that that wasn't a good thing. However much Harris told himself that Joshua's aura was still more grey than red, that it wouldn't do to rush with someone like him, he knew he still should have made more progress by now and he couldn't lose sight of that fact. He couldn't let himself stagnate. "I'm waiting in line to file some paperwork," he said.
"Tailors do a lot of paperwork?"
"You might be surprised," Harris said.
"Not hard to imagine that," Joshua replied, tone relatively light. "Don't know nothing about being a tailor, me." He was silent for a moment. "So you- uh- just called to call?"
"I suppose," Harris said, so surprised to realize that- though he had never done so before- it came very easily that it didn't for a moment occur to him to lie. "I was thinking of you, so I called. But I would like to see you later. If you were… amenable."
"Yeah, 'course," Joshua said. His voice seemed somehow strangled, and when he spoke again he rushed through it in that way he often did: "You did promise you'd take me through the National Gallery."
"I did, didn't I?" Harris agreed quietly.
Given how different they were, Harris would have expected more difficulty in finding things that they both enjoyed, but actually it had all gone very smoothly. Since it was ostensibly the source of their original acquaintance, Harris had at first talked a bit more about Joshua's father, but though he seemed naturally curious on the subject it had struck Harris that Joshua wanted to put that topic behind them for good. Harris had been more than willing to accommodate him, especially when he discovered how very easy Joshua could be talk to and spend time with.
Joshua always seemed fascinated by Harris's- much edited- stories and his- often personal- knowledge of history, and Harris was likewise interested in Joshua's fresh, endlessly surprising perspective. Harris had always had a taste for the finer things, and unlike many of his colleagues he had refused to let himself get out of touch with pop culture, but he hadn't realized how much joy had gone out of it all for him until he had Joshua to share it with. Harris's supernaturally limitless pocketbook was more than happy to indulge both of them in that regard once Joshua had started to let him- expanding their outings to trips to museums or the occasional play or film Joshua expressed an interest in.
He had learned so much about Joshua in that time. That he had a love of learning which had been dimmed by his somewhat haphazard education, but which flared to life with just a little tending. That he would rather see an old musical than a superhero movie any day of the week. That he could find joy in the smallest, strangest things- like being caught in the rain without an umbrella, not that with Harris he ever was, or laughing his way through giving impenetrable directions to tourists.
Unfortunately, one thing that Harris hadn't learned about Joshua was how his taste in romantic partners might run, and since that was the whole point of the exercise Harris couldn't help being angry with himself when he realized how much time had passed so fruitlessly.
Joshua's voice cut into Harris's frustrated train of thought. "This afternoon, maybe?"
"I would like that," Harris said, and however else Harris might have been feeling at the moment, it was completely true. From the front desk, Valentine hailed him. "I have to go, Joshua. But how does… two o'clock sound?"
"Yeah. I'll be at home."
"All right," Harris agreed, starting to smile even though Joshua couldn't see him. "Goodbye."
"Bye."
Harris pocketed his phone and made his way to Valentine's enormous desk. Valentine wasn't alone, though he rarely was; Teresse was seated on his desk, her back resting against a rather precarious looking stack of files, polishing one of her prosthetic limbs. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Harris. "Cionus," she said. "You've been making a lot of work for me lately." Teresse had a certain twist to her mouth that made her always look annoyed and amused at once, so it was difficult for Harris to tell how inconvenienced she really felt.
Teresse was essentially a messenger. It was her job to ferry requests between the different branches, so everything Harris had pushed Merlin into requesting over the last few weeks had gone through her, which was a lot of work indeed. Still, everyone knew that she and Valentine adored each other and were tiptoeing around a courtship, so really Harris saw it as doing them both a favor. Accordingly, he flashed her guileless smile.
She rolled her eyes, but Harris caught a gleam of humor in them.
"Anything major for me today, Big C?" Valentine asked.
"Not really," Harris replied. "Beyond the minor flirtation with a woman in a café that I already logged, nothing. He's had a great many changes in his life-" Harris inclined his head to Teresse- "and it will take some time for them to settle." Harris felt like he was making excuses for his own benefit as much as theirs, because really he should have made more progress by now.
He had no more idea of what kind of person Joshua might be interested in meeting, in loving, than when he had first been given Joshua's file, which outlined a few back alley fumbles with people he hardly knew, other sexual encounters that were even less romantic, and no indication of Joshua having a type whatsoever. And Harris knew that even if by some miracle he stumbled on someone perfect it wouldn't be easy to steer potential subjects Joshua's way- while clearly visible to Joshua- without making him uncomfortable. Harris suspected that this was exactly why his kind were invisible to mortals in the first place.
Valentine nodded and noted 'nothing in particular' down without questioning what most people would probably consider overzealous filing on Harris's part. It made sense in his own mind, but he hesitated to explain it to anyone else; he wasn't sure he would be able to. He knew it was no one in particular's fault that their "system" had failed Joshua, but the more Harris got to know him, the more he wanted to blame someone. Joshua could be sullen and prickly, but he was also sweet, selfless, and blessed with an optimism that few people who had had only half the bad luck he had would have been able to maintain. When he first met Joshua, Harris had been troubled by his aura and slim file on principle- partially because Joshua's parents had been his own match, but more because no one deserved to slip through the cracks. Now that Harris knew Joshua better, he found it positively infuriating- so if he overcompensated slightly by putting every little thing that happened or didn't happen in his file, Harris thought it was more than justified.
Then again, perhaps Valentine did understand. He definitely seemed to when he said, "You're doing right by him. That boy."
"I certainly hope so," Harris said.
Teresse shot him a knowing look from beneath the fringe of her bangs, but Harris had no idea what, precisely, she thought she knew. Harris kept his curiosity to himself, however. It was best, he had learned, not to try to fathom Teresse. "Thank you," he said to Valentine, and smiled.
"Any time." Valentine smiled back broadly. "And good luck."
As he made his way out of the Archive, Harris thought he heard Teresse mutter, "You need it," and Valentine shush her and laugh softly, but he ignored them, checking his watch absently. He had an hour and a half before he was meant to meet Joshua, and while he could technically just appear there with no need to worry about lateness, and though he had certainly returned Joshua to his new flat enough times to make the journey in his sleep, Harris had something he wanted to do first.