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Life happens... Coffee helps.
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They met in a sort of eyes on, but without words way, in the tiny, lights out due to be closing before midnight, kind of creepy, little cafe house because neither one of them wanted to stick around outside while the sky lit up with percussion and sulfur and borderline-pretty colors.
They were the only ones really in the moment there (most of the staff that was supposed to be manning the counter had left their posts to stand out on the sidewalk and enjoy the sights and sounds) aside from the tall, serious looking dude rocking mauve and purple and his (possible) boyfriend that was over two feet taller than anyone in or outside the place; the both of them cleaning out the espresso shot glasses and the coffee cups that would have been at home in a Wonderland book. So of course, they got a good look at each other.
In a resounding echo of firecrackers being torched and blowing themselves to bits on the sidewalks outside, he could see a petite, black haired, snow skinned lady illuminated momentarily by two bottle rockets that made her jump. She stuffed her hands in her pockets, gave him a nod, polite and a little embarrassed, before spinning on her heel to stand in front of the counter, browsing the menu for something that wouldn't be too much trouble for the employees and she could take to go when the celebration outside finally ended and night was allowed to be dark and quiet.
"Just whatever Toddy's left with some S'Mores flavor, please."
And he would remember her order in the months that followed, even as he flinched, pointed and sensitive ears dropping down to protect themselves as an insufferably large amount of Butterfly and Spinner sets went off at the same time, making the inside of the cafe look like the shooting studio of disco; lights bounced over all and everything, practically blinding him in the moment.
When he reopened his eyes, it had gotten dark again, for a moment, a pause in the tedious business of everyone outside setting up another run of sulfur toys, and the person that had sense not to be enthralled by the dangerous and pointless display was waiting for her coffee on the other side of the counter, also flinching when some little fizzy-whirly-gigs that only lasted ten seconds went off.
They saw each other again three nights later when the sky decided to wash away as much of the filth from the celebration that it could with a downpour at the stroke of nine; stars were out and most everyone else was inside, except for them, until they entered through the doors.
Both were sopping wet.
Which wasn't to say she couldn't appreciate the look on him, with his fur plastered down by rainwater there was a certain softness and shyness she hadn't noticed the last time. His urge to shake the water away must have been horrible to muscle down, but muscle down he did, simply padding over to where the industrial napkins were kept next to the swizzle-sticks to take fistfuls in hand and pat it over his mature face, pointed ears, long winding hair, chiseled muscles that stood out under his running shorts and track shirt...
And she realized when Rokk over at the counter made a little noise in his throat that she was staring.
So, to allow him use of the last of the napkins (it was polite and necessary since even after five minutes he was still soaked through) she wandered back over to the door, propped it open just so with the ball of her foot and leaned outside to wring the ounces of water from her hair and wipe the droplets off of her arms, a little tap on the ends of both of her big toes did well enough to get rid of the wet on her legs and the mud on her shoes.
She shut the door after that, spinning around to find the napkin dispenser indeed empty and the poor guy standing before the counter with Gim taking pity enough to hand him a dry towel that hand't been used on the counter that day.
His gratitude showed plain on his face and she almost perked up when he made his order while looking apologetic towards Rokk about the water tracks he'd left in his wake; his voice was clear and with a thick timber (or maybe it was a baritone, she could never tell) that made her think of her professors, though none of them were nearly so polite, "Cinnamon Mocha, with a gingersnaps for the side, thank you."
The windows gave off shadows and streaks that made the open room more comfortable, even before lightning shattered over the buildings again, thunder not quite terrifying from the inside, like a heartbeat instead of war drums or rocks inside of a washing machine. The attractive other that had come in just behind her received his drink and biscuits, wandering over to one of the many open and clean tables off towards the open door, not five feet away from where she stood, reading over the menu, even if she already knew what she was getting.
The giant of a man that smiled like sunshine and cast a sort of friendly shadow as well as the control freak that ran most of the others in the staff ragged pretended not to give each other a smile and nod with a look at the two lollygags they knew in separate to be a resistant royal that never told anyone her last name when she was introduced in her martial arts classes or her diplomacy courses and a man that gave everything he could on a daily basis to prove he hadn't lost his humanity to the horror that was his father by volunteering in a soup kitchen when he wasn't in his architecture lessons.
The third time they stepped into the coffee shop, there was clear evening sky, no rain, no retched firelight streaking the air, just sun going down with the moon coming up, the horizon colored darkened blue or light indigo in north or south.
She had reached to open the door, but found it opened for her by clawed fingers that were kept as dull as they were able (they grew back within 24-48 hours, so it was a chore and nothing was certain) with warm eyes creased with the smile just below them.
"Allow me."
She didn't like it when other people opened doors for her (political science majors that played ball in high school and were almost a match for Clark when he bothered to go to the field or gym, if only to get Querl to exercise; insufferable economics majors that gave off too much heat and acted pigheaded with their state police trainee boyfriends or whatever smirking at her like they knew what's what about her; missionary health counselors that were pleasant enough but still gave her chills to step anywhere near) but, he didn't seem to be doing it as a joke, or for any other reason than being polite. So she gave him a smile, a small nod and entered; but she held it open from the inside.
"As long as I can return the favor, Mister?"
"Brin. Londo to nobody in particular, save for my teachers in class," and that big clawed hand reached forward to shake her much smaller one as she offered it up with no noticeable hesitance and just tried not to giggle when his soft fur tickled her palm like the pelt of a stuffed rabbit she'd had as a child, "Just Brin to everyone else, Miss?"
"Tinya, no last name until I see you around and get to know you a bit better, though."
From the other side of the open space, almost hidden behind the sounds of tea kettles whistling and electric coffee defibrillators buzzing and bubbling, both Rokk and Gim snorted, having heard those answers some hundred times since the young man and woman had come to the campus in their turns.
It was a start, though.
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A/N: Another little gift for one guest reviewer by the name of Maggie. It's not much, but it's something a little different I've been working on and thought you might enjoy it.