Coffee. Coffee. Coffee.

The word was repeating itself over and over in Scott's head, and he yawned as he tried to focus on the map he was holding. He had promised Stiles to go visit Camden Town and find him a shirt from an obscure game Scott had never heard of, but so far he had only managed to get to Baker Street - which was, according to the map, completely the other side of London, and if that wasn't enough, also buzzing with the squeals of excited girls. Why had he decided to go visit London on his own again? Sure, it was the perfect way to clear his head, stop himself from constantly being reminded of Alli.. Her. But being in a different country on his own, on the other side of the world, wasn't as fun as it had sounded. Stiles had wanted to come along, but his dad had refused to sign the permission slip, and he had been furious when he found out Stiles had tried to fake it. So Scott had stepped on the plane all by himself, waving at his mom as he stepped through the gates. And here he was, one day and a half in his 5 day holiday, and he was still feeling the jetlag. Awful.

He groaned and folded the map, stuffing it in his back pocket. He'd try and find the Camden thing after he had a cup of coffee. Or two. Or twenty.

He sniffed the air when he could smell exactly what he was looking for - the dark, warm scent of freshly brewed coffee. Yes. He followed the delicious, wonderful scent to some small stairs that led down to a battered-looking oaken door with a 'Welcome!' sign. For a moment, he was doubtful it even was a coffee shop, but then the door opened and a blond girl smiled up at him. "Hi! We're already open, if you were wondering." She pulled open the door and waved to the inside, motioning for him to come in. "Boyd sometimes forgets to leave the door open."

Scott smiled back at her, quickly descending the stairs. "Thanks."

The inside of the coffee shop smelled absolutely amazing - fresh coffee and pastries and something that reminded him of snuggling in his bed on a lazy Sunday morning. He walked up to the counter, took a look at the map and frowned. The names of the coffee were confusing, and Scott was too tired to guess at them. Before he could ask, however, a curly haired young man appeared in front of him. "Good morning! Can I take your order?"

Scott stared at him for a couple seconds, before scratching his head and laughing nervously. "Uhm, yeah, I want, uhm, an espresso?"

The barista - Isaac, the name tag said, in an elegant handwriting - nodded and picked up a cup. "Alpha, Beta or Omega?"

"Eh?" Scott eloquently blurted out, and Isaac laughed. "Beta is our basic espresso, Omega is a lungo, and Alpha is a concoction of Espresso and brewed coffee." He shrugged, "You look like you could use something stronger, that's why I'm asking."

Scott nodded eagerly. "Yes, I could use something strong." He bit his lip, considering for a moment, and then smiled. "What would you recommend me, Isaac?" He ran a hand through his hair again, glancing at the floor and back up when Isaac made a thoughtful sound. He then let out a victorious puff or air, turning his eyes to Scott and grinning. "Double Alpha Mocha. I bet you'll like it."

Scott couldn't help but grin back. Isaac's enthousiasm was infectious. "Very well. I'll have that. And one of the things that smell like chocolate."

Isaac laughed again. "Coming right up, sir."

"Scott." Scott supplied helpfully, and Isaac's grin widened as he set to work, preparing the coffee with practiced movements. Scott watched in admiration as Isaac's hands skillfully created a beautifully dark coffee, and placed it in front of Scott, together with a chocolate croissant. "There you go, Scott. That'll be four pound twenty."

Scott grabbed some coins from his pocket, offering them to Isaac with a hopeful smile. Isaac accepted with a chuckle, going through the coins and giving Scott back the change. "I get off at noon."

Scott pocketed the money, and raised an eyebrow at Isaac, who was still grinning. "I can give you a tour, if you want. Show you some nice places."

"That'd be lovely." Scott said, taking up the plateau and walking towards a table at the window that looked out over a tiny back-garden. From the corner of his eye, he could see the blond girl swatting Isaac over the head with a towel, and Isaac laughing, before glancing up at Scott and winking.

London might not have been a bad idea after all.