Barbara Gordon was struggling. Three of the twelve orders on her screen were flashing red, and at least five others were about to. A man leaning over the bar counter kept looking at his watch. (Which he still used. In 2015.)
"Need a hand?" Tim asked, even though he still had a few more customers to deal with. Plus, his arm was in a cast.
"I'm good, thanks." She shot him a small smile before reaching for a thermometer and sticking it in a jug of milk. Carefully, she positioned the machine's steam spout directly at the centre of her jug and turned it on, swirling the jug slightly until it reached exactly 59 degrees. By the time she'd turned it off and cleaned the spout, milk had foamed up so the surface was silky smooth, and she poured it into a latte the way she'd been taught to do the previous night. "A medium latte for Lex?"
Lex happened to be the man with the watch. Barbara had already moved onto her next drink when he interrupted her: "This isn't hot enough."
"Did you ask for it extra hot, sir?"
"I'm a regular. I don't need to ask for it extra hot."
She was about to respond with a snippy comment when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. She saw his nametag before his face.
"Sorry, Lex, she's still learning the ropes," Dick said, reaching for Lex's latte, gently prying it from his hands. "Let me make you a new one."
So far, Barbara had dealt with Dick more than any of her other co-workers. He'd been in charge of training her for the job the past two evenings, and now he was supervising her first shift. He'd already apologised for putting her on barista duties on her first day, and he'd diligently worked with her at the machine, keeping workload manageable for her … until he had to take his lunch break.
He was also ridiculously good-looking, so there was that.
"So you guys got busy," Dick murmured. "It doesn't normally get busy around this time. Sorry about that."
"That's okay," Barbara shrugged, "I was handling it."
He snorted. "Yeah, I can tell." He reached behind her back for the milk carton. "Why didn't you ask Jason for help?"
"Someone bought three whole cakes."
"Three whole cakes?"
"Three whole cakes."
"Wait a sec. Did he have long red hair and …"
"Wore a baseball cap? Yeah."
"Yeesh. I knew he was crazy for Jason's cakes, but I didn't know it was that bad. Here you go, Lex," he said louder, placing the coffee on the counter. "Really sorry. See you tomorrow!"
Barbara called out an order as she watched Lex grunt and he accept his coffee, turning to stride out the door. "I don't like him."
"No one here does," Dick replied. "He always leans over the counter and watches you work. It makes me feel claustrophobic. And he never tips."
"But he's a regular, so you have to keep him happy."
He nodded. "He's been coming here from the start, when it was just me and Bruce. Just get his order right and he won't fuss."
"Do you have any other regulars I should worry about?"
He chuckled. "Our last training session is tonight. Tell you about it then?"
She glanced at all the customers waiting around the counter. "Right, of course."
"Okay, Cass, seriously?" a shout came from the kitchen. Jason stalked out to the front of the shop, furious. "I go to the restroom for one minute, and the icing's gone already!"
"Not gone," a quiet, heavily accented voice said in the corner. Cass had occupied the table closest to the counter, as she apparently always did. "Kept it in the fridge. I did not know you were only in the restroom. You said icing shouldn't be kept outside for such long."
"For so long," Barbara corrected.
"For so long," Cass repeated.
Cassandra had only recently been adopted by Barbara's boss, Bruce Wayne, a year ago. Barbara had been tutoring her in English, and had bonded with her a lot more than most of her students. She was eager to learn and had a heart of gold, and Barbara even let her call her 'Babs'. Unfortunately, tutoring wasn't paying Barbara nearly enough, so when Cass mentioned that her father was hiring, Barbara jumped on it – even though she didn't really like coffee.
Jason scrunched his eyebrows, and stalked back into the kitchen. A few seconds later, he bellowed "FOUND IT!"
"SORRY, CASS!" Cass yelled back.
"SORRY, CASS!"
"The key is not to put too much effort into it. It has to happen gracefully."
For her last evening of training, Barbara was learning latte art. Which was lovely, except that she was terrible at any kind of art, and everything that Dick was telling her right now seemed like a load of bull. How could she not be careful when she had one shot at making a leaf with nothing but coffee and a full jug of milk?
Dick made it look easy. He just poured the middle straight in and wiggled his arm around like it was nothing, and suddenly there was a leaf on his latte. The three times Barbara had tried, she'd made a mess.
A fourth attempt gave her the same result. Dick only looked apologetic, like the last few times she'd tried this.
"Hey, that one looks like a Jackson Pollock painting."
She eyed him warily. "Don't mock me."
"No, no! That's great for customers who like abstract art. Only problem is, you can't really tell one when you see one."
"So none of your customers are art enthusiasts?"
He poured some milk into two jugs and handed one over to her to steam. "No, but you wouldn't believe some of the people we get in here."
"You mean we have customers worse than Lex?"
"Wow. No. We just get some really strange ones. Like this one guy, Hal, wears the exact same jacket every day."
"Isn't that kind of gross?"
Dick shrugged. "I only ever smell coffee in here, so I don't know what he's doing with his jacket when he takes it off. If he takes it off."
Barbara cringed. She sweat too much during the day to even conceive wearing any item of clothing twice without washing it. In fact, she probably smelt like sweat right now. The scent of coffee was rich in the air around them right now, but Barbara was sure if Dick got any closer he'd be smelling something else.
"There's also the Metal Men. Five guys and one girl who're all really into heavy metal, and their one friend who just wears plaid all the time. And a lot of our friends come in often. Especially Cass' best friend, Steph."
"Cass has told me a thing or two about her, yeah. Steph seems to be her only friend."
"Steph was the only one of her classmates who didn't mind the language barrier. She tips well. She's great." He set his jug down on the counter. "You're up."
It turned out, Barbara was exceptionally good at abstract latte art. Dick had that same look on his face again, and by this point it made Barbara want to slap him.
"Okay," he said, pushing another jug towards her, "Let's try this a little differently. I'll take your hand and guide you through it. Cool?"
It sounded like a good idea until Dick actually started holding her arm. Barbara was suddenly reminded that he was a very attractive guy – with very attractive biceps, now that she got a good look at them. She was also reminded that she was covered in sweat from head to toe, and probably smelt as such, and that he was close enough to get a whiff of everything. She took a deep breath, trying to calm the sudden hit of nerves.
Dick noticed. "Don't worry," he said, "It'll work this time."
Barbara only nodded. She wasn't about to tell him what she was really worried about.
Dick placed a hand on her shoulder and moved her arm up by her wrist, tipping it so that the milk filled the cup halfway. He started gently shaking her wrist so that it created a small zigzag in the coffee, which eventually fell into much larger crescents. Once near the brim, it was just on smooth movement right across the lines they'd just made, and suddenly Barbara had a perfect leaf sitting in front of her.
That wasn't nearly as bad as she thought.
Dick placed another jug in front of her. "Try it yourself."
This time, Barbara made what was not quite a leaf, but still a lot better than everything she'd created so far.
"That's not bad at all, Dick commented. "I'd actually give that one to customers on a busy day." He smiled at her – an actual genuine smile that made Barbara want to die. "Wanna call it a night?"
Barbara didn't feel like dying anymore. "Definitely not," she protested, rolling her sleeves up. "I'm not leaving here until I get this right."