Coffee and Cats - Part One - for earthstar_moon
Title: Coffee and Cats
Author: ninedaysaqueen
Betas: openedlocket
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of The Thief, The Queen of Attolia, The King of Attolia, A Conspiracy of Kings, nor of any characters, locations, and elephants contained within. All rights of the Queen's Thief series belong exclusively to Megan Whalen Turner and her respective publishers.
Spoilers: Books 1-2
Rating: PG/K+
Genre: AU/Romance/Drama
Word Count: 4,600 - total
Summary: AU college setting. At the coffee shop where Eugenides usually spends his afternoons, he repeatedly encounters a stormy-eyed woman who peaks his interests.
Author's Notes: Written for earthstar_moon, who requested a Gen/Irene AU college setting.
The Black Cat is a real coffee house, so don't be surprised if you ever walk by one! I am in no way associated with the business. I just happen to find the name very Gen-like.
Enjoy!
Chapter Index
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The bell rung as she entered.
That in itself was nothing special. The bell on the door rang for anyone who walked inside The Black Cat. Away from the wind, the rain, or the heat of late summer to wrap their fingers around a hot mocha or a chilled glass of green tea.
But there was always a tone, a step, a presence, a don't-mess-with-me vibe that told him it was her. He wondered if that was how she always looked and walked. If she'd enter a church service or a florist shop, with the same challenging click of her heels.
Chewing the tip of his pencil, he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, trying to pretend he wasn't watching her every move. He wondered of she was married. If she had any kids. If her favorite drink was a soy Irish latte or if that was simply the most appealing thing to her on the menu. He wondered what foods she liked. If she ever wore anything other then office heels. Mostly, he just wondered a lot. Especially after bell curve graphs and Latin verb conjugations had turned his brain to mush, and he needed a distraction.
He put his pen to a sheet of paper once more, pretending to do homework, though he was actually sketching the abstract building shapes and whimsy tree murals that ran along the wall.
She ordered at the counter, handing the clerk her credit card and digging in her purse for a tube of lipstick. Pocketing her wallet and makeup, she took a seat in a nearby corner. The floor boards creaked under her weight like they only did in these hundred-year-old downtown buildings.
Glancing at the counter, he remembered who was on staff today. Lauren was a cute but not particularly fast barista, and his mystery woman pulled a book from her bag to pass the minutes. He peeked his head around his notebook to catch the title. Something called The Queen of Attolia. He wondered if it was interesting.
“Do you mind?”
He jumped and jerked his wrist across his sketch making the maple tree look like a victim of a particularly deranged lumberjack. “Sorry,” he muttered innocently and stiffened his shoulders as he re-stacked his textbooks on the other side of the table, for no particularly good reason other then to move his textbooks to the other side of the table. Sometimes his capacity for tact surprised even himself.
“You're here often,” she observed, not taking her eyes off her book. “You also stare quite often.” He looked away, avoiding her face.
“I'd recommend someone closer to your own age.” She looked up, smiling unkindly. “Maybe even someone who's interested.” She stressed the final word, making it clear she wasn't either one.
He cringed and turned his books to form a diamond shape on the table as she stood up to wait for her drink at the long bar.
“I wasn't staring,” he said to her back, biting the inside of his cheek. “You make a lot of noise with those shoes, you know... Kinda hard not to notice you.”
She turned, her arms poised delicately like one of those Greek sculptures the art students liked to imitate and display in the courtyard. Her glare spoke volumes. She picked up her drink and stormed out the door.
Eugenides failed to hide his amused grin.
Lauren peeked her head around the expresso machine and beamed at him from behind the counter. “I wouldn't cross swords with the Dragon Lady if I were you, Gen,” the young woman said, pouring a bag of coffee beans into the top of the machine.
“Dragon Lady?” he asked. He flipped his notebook closed and leaned his elbows against the table.
Lauren shrugged. “It's what we call her, anyhow. Always orders the same thing; always storms about like she's got rocks in her shoes and the devil in her eyes. Maybe she does...” She titled her head to the side reflectively.
“Do you know where she works?” Eugenides gave Lauren a coy smile.
“Ah... I know that look. Don't go chasing that one, Gen. She's from the college. Where you go to school.” Lauren narrowed her eyes with a I've-got-a-good-point air.
Eugenides frowned. It wasn't like he was going to ask her out. He was just curious, and there wasn't much to get curious about in a little campus town such as this.
“Lauren...” He laid on the honey, thick and sweet, in his voice. “Have I ever mentioned how wonderful the coffee you make is, or how good you look in that apron?”
The barista laughed. “The D-Lady's name is Irene...” she paused to think. “At least, that's the name she tells us to put on her cup when we're busy. But that's all you're getting outta me, understood?” She pointed a finger at him. “Refill?”
He offered up his empty mug by the handle. “Hit me.”
-X-X-X-
He was a three class student with work study. Two classes in the morning and one in the early evening with work in between. The Black Cat was the warmest place to spend his free time within walking distance of campus. And compared to his dorm, the little coffee house was an eastern palace of gold walls and lavender incense.
The halls of the student resident building were narrow enough to make Eugenides suspicious of whether they met fire code regulations or not. The floor was covered with a dingy, purple carpet that probably hadn't been new since the 1970s. Cracks webbed the drywall, and the sub-woof of a bad rap song vibrated the molding on the ceiling. And the worst part? The whole building stunk like a moldy gym sock. Eugenides clenched his jaw. He was so getting an apartment next semester.
His door was open to the hall, and he heard voices and the nondescript blip and bleep noises of a video game from inside. He rolled his eyes as he registered who and what the sounds belonged to.
“Go back to your own room, Bambi,” Eugenides snarled as he entered, throwing his bag on his desk.
Duke Ambiades, better known by his last name, glanced over his shoulder but didn't respond directly to the taunt. Instead, he nudged Eugenides's roommate, Sophos, who sat next to him on their makeshift sofa of cardboard and a flattop cooler. “Tell your roommate to get lost, Sophos.”
Sophos glanced back and forth between the two boys. As a friend to both sides of the "Romulus and Remus" of college campuses, Sophos always tried to play the pacifist. He wasn't very good at it.
“This is my room,” Eugenides argued. “I can kick out anyone I want. Go play your blood games on the other side of that large, rectangular hole in the wall.” He pointed to the door.
“Medal of Honor isn't a blood game, Gen” said Sophos considerately. “It's a World War II simulation that's quite good, actually.”
Eugenides sighed. “That's exactly why I don't like it, Sophos. Read a book on the Polynesian War or the Crusades of Jerusalem. See how much fun war was for those who actually fought it.” He took a bottle of water from the mini-fridge and broke the seal.
Sophos glanced at the screen then back at Eugenides. “But nobody uses swords in this game. Do you mean World of Warcraft?”
Eugenides groaned, slamming his drink down on his desk. Sometimes Sophos missed the point entirely.
He walked across the room and opened his closet to pull out his shower basket. “I'm gonna go get my shower. When I come back, I expect to see only one of you still in here.” He pointed at Sophos and glared at Ambiades. “Got it?”
“Tell me when your soapbox gets dull, loser,” Ambiades called over his shoulder, and Eugenides left the room. He heard Sophos mutter reproachfully, “Duke...”
-X-X-X-
When Eugenides came back, the TV was off, and his roommate was the only one still in the room.
“What possesses you to let that jerk in?” Eugenides asked as he shut the door.
Sophos was reading at his desk but looked up at the sound of his roommate's voice. “He just wanted to play a game.” Sophos shrugged and suddenly found the scratches on his desktop very interesting. “I know you don't like him, Gen, but he's nice to me.”
“No, he's not, Sophos,” said Eugenides, slamming his closet door for emphasis. “He condescends to talk to you, just like he condescends to do anything with the rest of us lowlifes.” Eugenides leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.
Sophos was silent.
Eugenides sighed and banged the back of his head against the crackled drywall. Though they were in the same year, Sophos was a few years younger than him, having passed his GED at the impressive age of sixteen. He knew Sophos felt out of place and was short on friends, and Eugenides suddenly felt like as much of a jerk as he knew Ambiades was.
He reluctantly gave in. “Hang out with him if you want. Just kick him out before I get back in the evenings, alright?”
Sophos smiled. “I can do that. How was the coffee house?”
Eugenides slide open his desk drawer, putting away his keys and drawing pencils. “Fine. Same as-” He broke the sentence abruptly. “Sophos?” he asked with alarm.
Sophos looked up. “Something wrong?”
Eugenides turned to face him. “I had a Franklin taped to the bottom of this drawer. Did you take it?”
Sophos scrunched his eyebrows together and shook his head. “No... I didn't even know you kept money in your desk.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's Note: This fic is complete, and I've divided it into three parts. The two additional parts will be posted shortly, after I work out a few small kinks. :)
Author: ninedaysaqueen
Betas: openedlocket
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of The Thief, The Queen of Attolia, The King of Attolia, A Conspiracy of Kings, nor of any characters, locations, and elephants contained within. All rights of the Queen's Thief series belong exclusively to Megan Whalen Turner and her respective publishers.
Spoilers: Books 1-2
Rating: PG/K+
Genre: AU/Romance/Drama
Word Count: 4,600 - total
Summary: AU college setting. At the coffee shop where Eugenides usually spends his afternoons, he repeatedly encounters a stormy-eyed woman who peaks his interests.
Author's Notes: Written for earthstar_moon, who requested a Gen/Irene AU college setting.
The Black Cat is a real coffee house, so don't be surprised if you ever walk by one! I am in no way associated with the business. I just happen to find the name very Gen-like.
Enjoy!
Chapter Index
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The bell rung as she entered.
That in itself was nothing special. The bell on the door rang for anyone who walked inside The Black Cat. Away from the wind, the rain, or the heat of late summer to wrap their fingers around a hot mocha or a chilled glass of green tea.
But there was always a tone, a step, a presence, a don't-mess-with-me vibe that told him it was her. He wondered if that was how she always looked and walked. If she'd enter a church service or a florist shop, with the same challenging click of her heels.
Chewing the tip of his pencil, he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, trying to pretend he wasn't watching her every move. He wondered of she was married. If she had any kids. If her favorite drink was a soy Irish latte or if that was simply the most appealing thing to her on the menu. He wondered what foods she liked. If she ever wore anything other then office heels. Mostly, he just wondered a lot. Especially after bell curve graphs and Latin verb conjugations had turned his brain to mush, and he needed a distraction.
He put his pen to a sheet of paper once more, pretending to do homework, though he was actually sketching the abstract building shapes and whimsy tree murals that ran along the wall.
She ordered at the counter, handing the clerk her credit card and digging in her purse for a tube of lipstick. Pocketing her wallet and makeup, she took a seat in a nearby corner. The floor boards creaked under her weight like they only did in these hundred-year-old downtown buildings.
Glancing at the counter, he remembered who was on staff today. Lauren was a cute but not particularly fast barista, and his mystery woman pulled a book from her bag to pass the minutes. He peeked his head around his notebook to catch the title. Something called The Queen of Attolia. He wondered if it was interesting.
“Do you mind?”
He jumped and jerked his wrist across his sketch making the maple tree look like a victim of a particularly deranged lumberjack. “Sorry,” he muttered innocently and stiffened his shoulders as he re-stacked his textbooks on the other side of the table, for no particularly good reason other then to move his textbooks to the other side of the table. Sometimes his capacity for tact surprised even himself.
“You're here often,” she observed, not taking her eyes off her book. “You also stare quite often.” He looked away, avoiding her face.
“I'd recommend someone closer to your own age.” She looked up, smiling unkindly. “Maybe even someone who's interested.” She stressed the final word, making it clear she wasn't either one.
He cringed and turned his books to form a diamond shape on the table as she stood up to wait for her drink at the long bar.
“I wasn't staring,” he said to her back, biting the inside of his cheek. “You make a lot of noise with those shoes, you know... Kinda hard not to notice you.”
She turned, her arms poised delicately like one of those Greek sculptures the art students liked to imitate and display in the courtyard. Her glare spoke volumes. She picked up her drink and stormed out the door.
Eugenides failed to hide his amused grin.
Lauren peeked her head around the expresso machine and beamed at him from behind the counter. “I wouldn't cross swords with the Dragon Lady if I were you, Gen,” the young woman said, pouring a bag of coffee beans into the top of the machine.
“Dragon Lady?” he asked. He flipped his notebook closed and leaned his elbows against the table.
Lauren shrugged. “It's what we call her, anyhow. Always orders the same thing; always storms about like she's got rocks in her shoes and the devil in her eyes. Maybe she does...” She titled her head to the side reflectively.
“Do you know where she works?” Eugenides gave Lauren a coy smile.
“Ah... I know that look. Don't go chasing that one, Gen. She's from the college. Where you go to school.” Lauren narrowed her eyes with a I've-got-a-good-point air.
Eugenides frowned. It wasn't like he was going to ask her out. He was just curious, and there wasn't much to get curious about in a little campus town such as this.
“Lauren...” He laid on the honey, thick and sweet, in his voice. “Have I ever mentioned how wonderful the coffee you make is, or how good you look in that apron?”
The barista laughed. “The D-Lady's name is Irene...” she paused to think. “At least, that's the name she tells us to put on her cup when we're busy. But that's all you're getting outta me, understood?” She pointed a finger at him. “Refill?”
He offered up his empty mug by the handle. “Hit me.”
-X-X-X-
He was a three class student with work study. Two classes in the morning and one in the early evening with work in between. The Black Cat was the warmest place to spend his free time within walking distance of campus. And compared to his dorm, the little coffee house was an eastern palace of gold walls and lavender incense.
The halls of the student resident building were narrow enough to make Eugenides suspicious of whether they met fire code regulations or not. The floor was covered with a dingy, purple carpet that probably hadn't been new since the 1970s. Cracks webbed the drywall, and the sub-woof of a bad rap song vibrated the molding on the ceiling. And the worst part? The whole building stunk like a moldy gym sock. Eugenides clenched his jaw. He was so getting an apartment next semester.
His door was open to the hall, and he heard voices and the nondescript blip and bleep noises of a video game from inside. He rolled his eyes as he registered who and what the sounds belonged to.
“Go back to your own room, Bambi,” Eugenides snarled as he entered, throwing his bag on his desk.
Duke Ambiades, better known by his last name, glanced over his shoulder but didn't respond directly to the taunt. Instead, he nudged Eugenides's roommate, Sophos, who sat next to him on their makeshift sofa of cardboard and a flattop cooler. “Tell your roommate to get lost, Sophos.”
Sophos glanced back and forth between the two boys. As a friend to both sides of the "Romulus and Remus" of college campuses, Sophos always tried to play the pacifist. He wasn't very good at it.
“This is my room,” Eugenides argued. “I can kick out anyone I want. Go play your blood games on the other side of that large, rectangular hole in the wall.” He pointed to the door.
“Medal of Honor isn't a blood game, Gen” said Sophos considerately. “It's a World War II simulation that's quite good, actually.”
Eugenides sighed. “That's exactly why I don't like it, Sophos. Read a book on the Polynesian War or the Crusades of Jerusalem. See how much fun war was for those who actually fought it.” He took a bottle of water from the mini-fridge and broke the seal.
Sophos glanced at the screen then back at Eugenides. “But nobody uses swords in this game. Do you mean World of Warcraft?”
Eugenides groaned, slamming his drink down on his desk. Sometimes Sophos missed the point entirely.
He walked across the room and opened his closet to pull out his shower basket. “I'm gonna go get my shower. When I come back, I expect to see only one of you still in here.” He pointed at Sophos and glared at Ambiades. “Got it?”
“Tell me when your soapbox gets dull, loser,” Ambiades called over his shoulder, and Eugenides left the room. He heard Sophos mutter reproachfully, “Duke...”
-X-X-X-
When Eugenides came back, the TV was off, and his roommate was the only one still in the room.
“What possesses you to let that jerk in?” Eugenides asked as he shut the door.
Sophos was reading at his desk but looked up at the sound of his roommate's voice. “He just wanted to play a game.” Sophos shrugged and suddenly found the scratches on his desktop very interesting. “I know you don't like him, Gen, but he's nice to me.”
“No, he's not, Sophos,” said Eugenides, slamming his closet door for emphasis. “He condescends to talk to you, just like he condescends to do anything with the rest of us lowlifes.” Eugenides leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.
Sophos was silent.
Eugenides sighed and banged the back of his head against the crackled drywall. Though they were in the same year, Sophos was a few years younger than him, having passed his GED at the impressive age of sixteen. He knew Sophos felt out of place and was short on friends, and Eugenides suddenly felt like as much of a jerk as he knew Ambiades was.
He reluctantly gave in. “Hang out with him if you want. Just kick him out before I get back in the evenings, alright?”
Sophos smiled. “I can do that. How was the coffee house?”
Eugenides slide open his desk drawer, putting away his keys and drawing pencils. “Fine. Same as-” He broke the sentence abruptly. “Sophos?” he asked with alarm.
Sophos looked up. “Something wrong?”
Eugenides turned to face him. “I had a Franklin taped to the bottom of this drawer. Did you take it?”
Sophos scrunched his eyebrows together and shook his head. “No... I didn't even know you kept money in your desk.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author's Note: This fic is complete, and I've divided it into three parts. The two additional parts will be posted shortly, after I work out a few small kinks. :)