FIC: Gibbs' Barista: Late Night Coffee Run - NCIS
Because I need a something to make me smile today...
Gibbs’ Barista 3: Late Night Coffee Run
Author: Lyl (lyl_devil)
Rating: PG
Beta: tygermama
Disclaimer: NCIS does not belong to me, I just like to play with their characters. Also, I claim no rights to Starbucks, I just like to make fun of them.
Summary: Late night at Starbucks is not nearly as interesting as early morning. Usually.
Note: Big thanks to tygermama for the super fast turnarounds, and the little tidbits of Starbucks trivia she sends my way that spawns more bunnies, despite my repeated attempts to stop her.
~!~
It’s the slowest night in over a week when they walk in, loudly arguing about something that Ella doesn’t care to figure out. She’s just finished cleaning the back counter for the eighth time, after checking the stock for the morning rush, for the fifth time.
Evening shifts are so much more boring than what she’s use to.
The two guys walk up to the counter, one slightly taller, the other slightly broader, and Ella immediately pegs them both as government stooges. The flash of gold at the taller one’s hip tells her they’re feds, and that’s where she stops prying.
“Hey there,” says the taller one, who is more classically attractive than his friend. Ella mentally labels him the pretty one, and then capitalizes that when he turns a flirtatious, suggestive smile at her.
“What can I get for you?” she asks, keeping her face pleasant but unsmiling. He’s not the first customer to try and flirt with her; he’s not even the hundredth.
“Your number, for a start,” he says, giving her a long look up and down. She’s not impressed, and by the look on his face, neither is his companion.
Deliberately turning to the second one, she repeats, “What can I get for you?”
He smiles at her in amusement and approval, sends a smug grin back at Pretty Boy, before turning back to her with a genuine but polite smile on his face.
“I’ll have a triple grande sugar-free vanilla latte,” he says, deliberately ignoring the face pulled by the pretty one, pre-empting any comments with, “Shut up, Tony.”
“And I’ll have a triple shot venti coffee - bold,” adds Pretty Boy - Tony - with more innuendo than Ella thought he had in his entire body. He’s leaning on the counter now, his smile even more suggestive.
Added espresso in plain coffee. Ella’s lips twitch at the order, for reasons she can’t explain to anyone other than a fellow Starbucks barista, and replies, “I’m sure you are.”
The confusion on his face is kinda cute - but not that cute.
She asks if there’s anything else, and the polite one pulls out a piece of paper, which Ella takes to mean these are the coffee boys for whatever team they’re on.
“We also need a grande almond soy latte and a - geez - a 9 shot venti Americano,” the polite one reads off.
Ella has seen just about every drink combination in her six years at Starbucks, but that amount of caffeine at ten o’clock on a Tuesday night has her sending him a questioning look.
“Abby mainlines Caf-Pows all day,” he explains, and Ella figures that after a full day of that, a nine shot espresso is like a glass of warm milk. Sort of.
“Don’t forget the boss’s coffee, probie,” announces Pretty Boy, his eyes still on her apron covered chest.
“As if I could, Tony,” he replies, sounding as irritated with this Tony as Ella is starting to become. “We also need a venti coffee, the strongest you have.”
Ella rings them up then moves over to start making their order. While pulling the third of nine espresso shots, she looks over and sees a mess at one of the tables in the corner.
“Hey, Kenzie,” she calls out, pulling the second staff member from the back room where she’s been studying. “Can you go clean up the corner table?” Ella figures it’s the least the girl can do considering Ella’s let her spend the majority of her shift in the back, but still Kenzie glares at her like it’s Ella’s personal mission in life to screw her over.
Ella hasn’t worked at Starbucks for six years for nothing, and sets a look to her face that has sent stronger people than Kenzie running. It doesn’t fail her now, and the girl goes scrambling to clean up the cups and spilled coffee without a word of protest.
By the time Kenzie is done, so is Ella. She has the cups in a take away tray on the serving bar when Pretty Boy’s phone rings.
“It’s the boss,” he tells his friend before answering. “Hey Gibbs. We’re on our way out now.”
Ella hears the name and it’s automatic to slap her hand down on the drink tray as the polite one starts to pick it up.
“You work for Gibbs?” she asks, but doesn’t wait for an answer before taking back the only coffee in the bunch that could possibly be for him, dumping it out and starting a new one. Six years and she knows what he likes, unlike these two, apparently.
She’s aware of the stunned silence in her wake, but doesn’t bother to turn and explain. Gibbs is her regular and if she’s working when he gets his coffee - even if it’s by proxy - then it’s going to be his coffee, the right coffee.
She goes to the other end of the counter to get a piece of the banana walnut bread - because if he’s getting coffee this late at night it means he’s looking at an even later night, and he’s the type whose sole nutrition comes in caffeine form. Ella can hear some not-so-quiet whispering from the two guys, who go silent the instant she makes her way back over.
Putting the right coffee into the tray, she wedges the banana bread between the various cups and looks up at them expectantly.
“You didn’t spit in it, did you?” asks a wary Tony.
“You keep talking and I’ll spit in yours,” she warns him, keeping her face free of the smile that desperately wants to overtake it. But these are Gibbs’ people, and if he handles his people like he handles some of her staff, she can have a little fun with them.
They’re looking at her hesitantly and the pretty one still has his cell phone glued to his ear. He clears his throat before asking, “Would you happen to be Ella?”
Ella takes a few seconds to blink at him, then looks down at the name tag Mike has insisted they all start wearing. Looking back up, she raises an eyebrow, silently asking if he really is this dim.
She keeps the smirk off her face at his embarrassed flush - he’d been staring at her chest long enough, yet had missed the prominent name tag - but can’t help noticing the grinning smile his companion gives her.
The quiet one really is a cutie.
“Right. Ella,” he confirms into the phone, attention drifting away from her as he listens to Gibbs. “He says he thought you quit,” adds Tony, looking back up.
“Then tell him he should start getting his lazy ass in here before eight in the morning again.” The way Pretty Boy’s face blanks, and his friend’s face pales, is incredibly satisfying to Ella.
Instead of a reply, the phone is thrust at her. “He wants to talk to you.”
“Lazy ass?” comes the amused query through the phone.
“Six years of coming through at six am, and now you can’t get in before eight?” she teases, smiling slightly. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed his daily coffees until they weren’t there anymore.
“What has you leaving at eight in the morning, and working again at ten at night?” he redirects.
“Finally decided to go back to school, finish off my degree,” she explains. “My boss lets me split my shifts, so I open and close most days.”
“Most days?”
“Gotta pay the bills somehow,” she says. She’s been keeping one eye on the two guys the entire time, watching as they start to elbow each other. By now, it’s escalated to a full out poking war that makes her not-so-fondly remember her brothers.
“So these two are yours?” she asks, watching as they abruptly still.
“When I decide to claim them,” he says, but Ella can hear the affection and pride under the words.
“You sure you want to claim them? Because I’ve got some trainees you can have that are better behaved and probably talk back less.”
He laughs in her ear and her smile widens by a degree.
“Hey, I’ve added a treat for you,” she explains, staring pointedly at Pretty Boy. “If it doesn’t make it there, blame the mouthy one.”
“Will do,” he says, and then she’s listening to air.
Handing the phone back over, she points to the banana bread and says, “This is for Gibbs. Don’t eat it.”
He seems to get the point, looking a little afraid for the first time.
Her job done, Ella goes to clean up behind the counter. As they head towards the exit, she hears the tall one hiss, “She’s like the Starbucks version of Gibbs.”
Ella holds on to her giggles until the door closes behind them.
Her mood is lighter and she’s that much closer to closing the place down.
The next morning, she’s not surprised to see Gibbs at her counter promptly at six demanding his coffee.
END
NOTE: Go here to understand why Tony’s drink choice was so amusing.
Next time: Ella meets the girlfriend!
Gibbs’ Barista 3: Late Night Coffee Run
Author: Lyl (lyl_devil)
Rating: PG
Beta: tygermama
Disclaimer: NCIS does not belong to me, I just like to play with their characters. Also, I claim no rights to Starbucks, I just like to make fun of them.
Summary: Late night at Starbucks is not nearly as interesting as early morning. Usually.
Note: Big thanks to tygermama for the super fast turnarounds, and the little tidbits of Starbucks trivia she sends my way that spawns more bunnies, despite my repeated attempts to stop her.
~!~
It’s the slowest night in over a week when they walk in, loudly arguing about something that Ella doesn’t care to figure out. She’s just finished cleaning the back counter for the eighth time, after checking the stock for the morning rush, for the fifth time.
Evening shifts are so much more boring than what she’s use to.
The two guys walk up to the counter, one slightly taller, the other slightly broader, and Ella immediately pegs them both as government stooges. The flash of gold at the taller one’s hip tells her they’re feds, and that’s where she stops prying.
“Hey there,” says the taller one, who is more classically attractive than his friend. Ella mentally labels him the pretty one, and then capitalizes that when he turns a flirtatious, suggestive smile at her.
“What can I get for you?” she asks, keeping her face pleasant but unsmiling. He’s not the first customer to try and flirt with her; he’s not even the hundredth.
“Your number, for a start,” he says, giving her a long look up and down. She’s not impressed, and by the look on his face, neither is his companion.
Deliberately turning to the second one, she repeats, “What can I get for you?”
He smiles at her in amusement and approval, sends a smug grin back at Pretty Boy, before turning back to her with a genuine but polite smile on his face.
“I’ll have a triple grande sugar-free vanilla latte,” he says, deliberately ignoring the face pulled by the pretty one, pre-empting any comments with, “Shut up, Tony.”
“And I’ll have a triple shot venti coffee - bold,” adds Pretty Boy - Tony - with more innuendo than Ella thought he had in his entire body. He’s leaning on the counter now, his smile even more suggestive.
Added espresso in plain coffee. Ella’s lips twitch at the order, for reasons she can’t explain to anyone other than a fellow Starbucks barista, and replies, “I’m sure you are.”
The confusion on his face is kinda cute - but not that cute.
She asks if there’s anything else, and the polite one pulls out a piece of paper, which Ella takes to mean these are the coffee boys for whatever team they’re on.
“We also need a grande almond soy latte and a - geez - a 9 shot venti Americano,” the polite one reads off.
Ella has seen just about every drink combination in her six years at Starbucks, but that amount of caffeine at ten o’clock on a Tuesday night has her sending him a questioning look.
“Abby mainlines Caf-Pows all day,” he explains, and Ella figures that after a full day of that, a nine shot espresso is like a glass of warm milk. Sort of.
“Don’t forget the boss’s coffee, probie,” announces Pretty Boy, his eyes still on her apron covered chest.
“As if I could, Tony,” he replies, sounding as irritated with this Tony as Ella is starting to become. “We also need a venti coffee, the strongest you have.”
Ella rings them up then moves over to start making their order. While pulling the third of nine espresso shots, she looks over and sees a mess at one of the tables in the corner.
“Hey, Kenzie,” she calls out, pulling the second staff member from the back room where she’s been studying. “Can you go clean up the corner table?” Ella figures it’s the least the girl can do considering Ella’s let her spend the majority of her shift in the back, but still Kenzie glares at her like it’s Ella’s personal mission in life to screw her over.
Ella hasn’t worked at Starbucks for six years for nothing, and sets a look to her face that has sent stronger people than Kenzie running. It doesn’t fail her now, and the girl goes scrambling to clean up the cups and spilled coffee without a word of protest.
By the time Kenzie is done, so is Ella. She has the cups in a take away tray on the serving bar when Pretty Boy’s phone rings.
“It’s the boss,” he tells his friend before answering. “Hey Gibbs. We’re on our way out now.”
Ella hears the name and it’s automatic to slap her hand down on the drink tray as the polite one starts to pick it up.
“You work for Gibbs?” she asks, but doesn’t wait for an answer before taking back the only coffee in the bunch that could possibly be for him, dumping it out and starting a new one. Six years and she knows what he likes, unlike these two, apparently.
She’s aware of the stunned silence in her wake, but doesn’t bother to turn and explain. Gibbs is her regular and if she’s working when he gets his coffee - even if it’s by proxy - then it’s going to be his coffee, the right coffee.
She goes to the other end of the counter to get a piece of the banana walnut bread - because if he’s getting coffee this late at night it means he’s looking at an even later night, and he’s the type whose sole nutrition comes in caffeine form. Ella can hear some not-so-quiet whispering from the two guys, who go silent the instant she makes her way back over.
Putting the right coffee into the tray, she wedges the banana bread between the various cups and looks up at them expectantly.
“You didn’t spit in it, did you?” asks a wary Tony.
“You keep talking and I’ll spit in yours,” she warns him, keeping her face free of the smile that desperately wants to overtake it. But these are Gibbs’ people, and if he handles his people like he handles some of her staff, she can have a little fun with them.
They’re looking at her hesitantly and the pretty one still has his cell phone glued to his ear. He clears his throat before asking, “Would you happen to be Ella?”
Ella takes a few seconds to blink at him, then looks down at the name tag Mike has insisted they all start wearing. Looking back up, she raises an eyebrow, silently asking if he really is this dim.
She keeps the smirk off her face at his embarrassed flush - he’d been staring at her chest long enough, yet had missed the prominent name tag - but can’t help noticing the grinning smile his companion gives her.
The quiet one really is a cutie.
“Right. Ella,” he confirms into the phone, attention drifting away from her as he listens to Gibbs. “He says he thought you quit,” adds Tony, looking back up.
“Then tell him he should start getting his lazy ass in here before eight in the morning again.” The way Pretty Boy’s face blanks, and his friend’s face pales, is incredibly satisfying to Ella.
Instead of a reply, the phone is thrust at her. “He wants to talk to you.”
“Lazy ass?” comes the amused query through the phone.
“Six years of coming through at six am, and now you can’t get in before eight?” she teases, smiling slightly. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed his daily coffees until they weren’t there anymore.
“What has you leaving at eight in the morning, and working again at ten at night?” he redirects.
“Finally decided to go back to school, finish off my degree,” she explains. “My boss lets me split my shifts, so I open and close most days.”
“Most days?”
“Gotta pay the bills somehow,” she says. She’s been keeping one eye on the two guys the entire time, watching as they start to elbow each other. By now, it’s escalated to a full out poking war that makes her not-so-fondly remember her brothers.
“So these two are yours?” she asks, watching as they abruptly still.
“When I decide to claim them,” he says, but Ella can hear the affection and pride under the words.
“You sure you want to claim them? Because I’ve got some trainees you can have that are better behaved and probably talk back less.”
He laughs in her ear and her smile widens by a degree.
“Hey, I’ve added a treat for you,” she explains, staring pointedly at Pretty Boy. “If it doesn’t make it there, blame the mouthy one.”
“Will do,” he says, and then she’s listening to air.
Handing the phone back over, she points to the banana bread and says, “This is for Gibbs. Don’t eat it.”
He seems to get the point, looking a little afraid for the first time.
Her job done, Ella goes to clean up behind the counter. As they head towards the exit, she hears the tall one hiss, “She’s like the Starbucks version of Gibbs.”
Ella holds on to her giggles until the door closes behind them.
Her mood is lighter and she’s that much closer to closing the place down.
The next morning, she’s not surprised to see Gibbs at her counter promptly at six demanding his coffee.
END
NOTE: Go here to understand why Tony’s drink choice was so amusing.
Next time: Ella meets the girlfriend!