Alice/Hatter, "Foam" (2/2)
Title: Foam (2/2)
Pairing: Alice/Hatter
Rating: safe for kids
Genre: AU
Summary: AU. David is a barista who finds himself oddly challenged by a particularly stoic customer.
A/N: I actually wrote this chapter in a coffee shop. Dedicated? Oh yeah. XP
Chapter One
‘Gang initiation’, the police said. Two or three homemade explosives made with materials bought at the Kum-N-Go two blocks away, probably thrown through the window, burning the place down within an hour. A regrettable incident, they said. Unavoidable.
Common.
Just before 7:00 that morning, David stood on the corner with his hands jammed deep into his pockets, staring at the blackened, twisted exterior. He had just been there yesterday, flipped switches on the espresso machine, counted the till, stuck a brown feather in his fedora to celebrate the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday.
He had drawn Alice a cat -- one with stripes and a big smile on its face. She mentioned in passing that it looked a little like the cat she’d had when she was younger, and David had felt warm all day.
He felt something in him shift, turn, slide somewhere, and he checked his watch.
Abruptly, David turned on his heel and walked away, hat bowed against the misty morning.
**
He showed up again at 9:25. In his hands he cupped a nonfat latte from the coffee place three blocks west. He’d tucked the receipt in his hat.
Maybe Alice had seen it on the news, he told himself. Or maybe she saw the wreckage as she drove by and just kept on driving, or maybe today was the one day in nearly ten months that she didn’t feel like a nonfat latte with a stupid picture drawn in the foam by some random hipster wearing a gray fedora who just loved to make her smile.
David sat on the corner until the latte stopped steaming, and eventually turned cold. Then he threw it away and walked home.
**
Griff, his boss, made quick use of the “my shop just blew up” sympathy card. He managed to find David an immediate job in another coffee place across town while repairs were being done. The shop would probably be open again March 1st, he’d said, and then he guaranteed David’s old job back… if he still wanted it.
David thanked him and hung up.
**
The best thing David could say about this new place was that they still let him wear his hat.
His co-workers were nice enough, even though there were more people behind the counter now than he was used to. The customers were a little less grouchy on this side of town, and they texted instead of talked on their phones, and they laughed politely at his jokes even if they didn’t really understand them. David stayed behind his espresso machine and made drinks and put Christmas-y things in his fedora.
But he didn’t draw in foam anymore.
**
Three weeks slipped by slowly, monotonously, until already it was time to sign up for Christmas shifts. David put his name down for the entire week - he definitely wasn’t going home, and it would be nice to have the vacation pay. It made his co-workers happy because that meant they could take the time off. It made his new boss happy because he could keep the place open for the holiday.
Everybody wins, David thought sourly the morning of the 24th, rigging jingle bells to his fedora with the clever use of paper clips. He went to work, waved to Jessica at the register, and set up station for the day.
He worked solidly for the first two and a half hours of his shift, repeating orders in his head in a familiar rhythm. A two-pump peppermint mocha, a soy chai, a caramel cappuccino, a gingerbread latte, a nonfat latte-
“Funny thing,” a clear voice said directly in front of him. “I’ve tried every latte in town, and do you know how hard it is to find a half-decent foam artist in San Fransisco? I’ve gotten spoiled.”
David’s head snapped up so fast he almost got whiplash, and he could hear the sharp jingle of the bells on his hat. The steamed milk he’d been making dripped all over his shoes, but he barely even noticed, because Alice was standing right in front of him with a smirk as familiar as the back of his hand, like the last month had never even happened, like…
“Alice!” he said, with a grin and an odd buzzing in his ears. “Hey! ...Wow, um… Fancy seeing you here! …How are you?” He didn’t know whether he should go around the counter and wrap her up in a huge hug like he wanted to, or just stay where he was and do nothing, or reach across the counter to… what, shake her hand? His arms jerked awkwardly for a moment before he settled for simply picking up a rag and mopping up the milk he’d spilled all over the counter.
Alice laughed. “Hey, Hats,” she said, reaching across to tug on the brim of his hat, jingling the bells. “I see you’ve got a little bit of holiday spirit today. How’ve you been?”
“Oh, fine,” he said, swallowing. “You didn’t show up… that morning. For your latte, I mean, at 9:30.” This was not at all what he’d thought he’d be saying when he opened his mouth. He looked down at the milk cartons to his left, feeling the heat rise in his face.
“Oh,” she said, sounding surprised. “I saw the wreckage when I drove by and I thought... Wow, I mean, I figured it would be closed-“
“It was,” he said. And his eyes flicked to hers briefly before settling back down on the milk cartons, his right foot tapping inside his shoe nervously.
“Oh,” he heard her say softly.
An awkward silence fell. David coughed.
“Well,” Alice said again loudly, bringing his eyes back to meet hers. “It seems I owe you a drink then, Hats.” She smirked again, and David felt his embarrassed nerves change to something else entirely.
“It seems you do,” he said, thinking that Christmas with Alice sounded like the greatest thing in the world. “Look, I know it’s the holidays and everything-“
“What time do you get off work tonight?” she asked abruptly.
“Nine o-clock,” he said.
She raised her eyebrows. “Long hours,” she remarked. David shrugged.
“Christmas season,” he said.
“I’ll be here. We could… we could do pizza?”
“Yeah,” he said, leaning forward and crossing his arms against the top of the espresso machine. “And lots of other things.”
“Good. Great.”
“Yeah. Great.”
They stared at each other across the espresso machine with silly grins until Jessica started to make loud coughing sounds.
“Right,” David said, adjusting his fedora to a jaunty angle and expertly flipping an empty to-go cup in the air. “One nonfat latte, coming right up.”
“Excellent.”
He drew her a sun.
**
Leave a Comment
Pairing: Alice/Hatter
Rating: safe for kids
Genre: AU
Summary: AU. David is a barista who finds himself oddly challenged by a particularly stoic customer.
A/N: I actually wrote this chapter in a coffee shop. Dedicated? Oh yeah. XP
Chapter One
‘Gang initiation’, the police said. Two or three homemade explosives made with materials bought at the Kum-N-Go two blocks away, probably thrown through the window, burning the place down within an hour. A regrettable incident, they said. Unavoidable.
Common.
Just before 7:00 that morning, David stood on the corner with his hands jammed deep into his pockets, staring at the blackened, twisted exterior. He had just been there yesterday, flipped switches on the espresso machine, counted the till, stuck a brown feather in his fedora to celebrate the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday.
He had drawn Alice a cat -- one with stripes and a big smile on its face. She mentioned in passing that it looked a little like the cat she’d had when she was younger, and David had felt warm all day.
He felt something in him shift, turn, slide somewhere, and he checked his watch.
Abruptly, David turned on his heel and walked away, hat bowed against the misty morning.
**
He showed up again at 9:25. In his hands he cupped a nonfat latte from the coffee place three blocks west. He’d tucked the receipt in his hat.
Maybe Alice had seen it on the news, he told himself. Or maybe she saw the wreckage as she drove by and just kept on driving, or maybe today was the one day in nearly ten months that she didn’t feel like a nonfat latte with a stupid picture drawn in the foam by some random hipster wearing a gray fedora who just loved to make her smile.
David sat on the corner until the latte stopped steaming, and eventually turned cold. Then he threw it away and walked home.
**
Griff, his boss, made quick use of the “my shop just blew up” sympathy card. He managed to find David an immediate job in another coffee place across town while repairs were being done. The shop would probably be open again March 1st, he’d said, and then he guaranteed David’s old job back… if he still wanted it.
David thanked him and hung up.
**
The best thing David could say about this new place was that they still let him wear his hat.
His co-workers were nice enough, even though there were more people behind the counter now than he was used to. The customers were a little less grouchy on this side of town, and they texted instead of talked on their phones, and they laughed politely at his jokes even if they didn’t really understand them. David stayed behind his espresso machine and made drinks and put Christmas-y things in his fedora.
But he didn’t draw in foam anymore.
**
Three weeks slipped by slowly, monotonously, until already it was time to sign up for Christmas shifts. David put his name down for the entire week - he definitely wasn’t going home, and it would be nice to have the vacation pay. It made his co-workers happy because that meant they could take the time off. It made his new boss happy because he could keep the place open for the holiday.
Everybody wins, David thought sourly the morning of the 24th, rigging jingle bells to his fedora with the clever use of paper clips. He went to work, waved to Jessica at the register, and set up station for the day.
He worked solidly for the first two and a half hours of his shift, repeating orders in his head in a familiar rhythm. A two-pump peppermint mocha, a soy chai, a caramel cappuccino, a gingerbread latte, a nonfat latte-
“Funny thing,” a clear voice said directly in front of him. “I’ve tried every latte in town, and do you know how hard it is to find a half-decent foam artist in San Fransisco? I’ve gotten spoiled.”
David’s head snapped up so fast he almost got whiplash, and he could hear the sharp jingle of the bells on his hat. The steamed milk he’d been making dripped all over his shoes, but he barely even noticed, because Alice was standing right in front of him with a smirk as familiar as the back of his hand, like the last month had never even happened, like…
“Alice!” he said, with a grin and an odd buzzing in his ears. “Hey! ...Wow, um… Fancy seeing you here! …How are you?” He didn’t know whether he should go around the counter and wrap her up in a huge hug like he wanted to, or just stay where he was and do nothing, or reach across the counter to… what, shake her hand? His arms jerked awkwardly for a moment before he settled for simply picking up a rag and mopping up the milk he’d spilled all over the counter.
Alice laughed. “Hey, Hats,” she said, reaching across to tug on the brim of his hat, jingling the bells. “I see you’ve got a little bit of holiday spirit today. How’ve you been?”
“Oh, fine,” he said, swallowing. “You didn’t show up… that morning. For your latte, I mean, at 9:30.” This was not at all what he’d thought he’d be saying when he opened his mouth. He looked down at the milk cartons to his left, feeling the heat rise in his face.
“Oh,” she said, sounding surprised. “I saw the wreckage when I drove by and I thought... Wow, I mean, I figured it would be closed-“
“It was,” he said. And his eyes flicked to hers briefly before settling back down on the milk cartons, his right foot tapping inside his shoe nervously.
“Oh,” he heard her say softly.
An awkward silence fell. David coughed.
“Well,” Alice said again loudly, bringing his eyes back to meet hers. “It seems I owe you a drink then, Hats.” She smirked again, and David felt his embarrassed nerves change to something else entirely.
“It seems you do,” he said, thinking that Christmas with Alice sounded like the greatest thing in the world. “Look, I know it’s the holidays and everything-“
“What time do you get off work tonight?” she asked abruptly.
“Nine o-clock,” he said.
She raised her eyebrows. “Long hours,” she remarked. David shrugged.
“Christmas season,” he said.
“I’ll be here. We could… we could do pizza?”
“Yeah,” he said, leaning forward and crossing his arms against the top of the espresso machine. “And lots of other things.”
“Good. Great.”
“Yeah. Great.”
They stared at each other across the espresso machine with silly grins until Jessica started to make loud coughing sounds.
“Right,” David said, adjusting his fedora to a jaunty angle and expertly flipping an empty to-go cup in the air. “One nonfat latte, coming right up.”
“Excellent.”
He drew her a sun.
**
Leave a Comment