Kala isn't exactly sure how she ended up stuck working a shift at the coffee shop on campus at eleven o'clock at night when she has a seemingly neverending list of coursework to finish, but here she is. She blames them all, she thinks: Lito for begging her to take the part-time job when he knew full well how many deadlines she had to meet and how stressed out she was right now ("Come on, hermana, it'll be fun," he had said, before turning and pouting at her, warm eyes wide. "Please? For me?"), Riley for innocently dragging her into a heated debate about the perceived health benefits of hash, getting her so worked up that she'd been pushed into the door of the coffee shop and into an interview before she had even begun to suspect what she was up to ("—It's really interesting actually; there's a lot of evidence that show that cannabinoids might be useful for pain modulation. I'll have to send you some of the papers—wait, Riley, where are you going?"), and Will for just going along with it all and letting it happen ("Hey," he had said, holding his hands up in mock-surrender once she'd come back, a look of exasperation on her face as she eyed the three of them, "don't blame me! It was their idea! I didn't do anything!" She had glared at him at that, knowing that the other two would have stopped if Will had intervened; out of the four of them, he had always proven himself to be the most level-headed one, the one that everyone listened to. "Exactly!").

"Uh, hello? Are you deaf?"

Kala blinks, shaking her head slightly to bring herself back to reality. She blinks again, startled, as she's greeted with the sight of a coffee cup being shaken in her face, taking a step backwards on instinct.

"I'm sorry," she says, mentally chiding herself for allowing herself to get distracted before turning her full attention onto the man in front of her, biting her lip as she sees the obviously displeased expression on his face. "How can I help you?"

"How can you help me? Are you being serious right now?" The man asks, still shaking the cup in front of her face, almost growling at her as he leans over the counter. "This isn't what I asked for."

She bites her lip again, takes another step back. She's never been great at confrontation; she's always preferred to stay out of the limelight, her head buried in her books. She's also never messed up an order before and she feels a twinge of irritation, quickly followed by embarrassment, for having made such a simple mistake.

"I'm sorry," she tells him again, her eyes flicking towards the other side of the counter where Riley is for moral support, but the other girl is too preoccupied by the order she is currently preparing and hasn't noticed the commotion yet, "I'll, um, I'll make another one up. Just give me a few minutes, please."

"Don't bother," the man snarls, rolling his eyes, "I'm not about to let you ruin my order again. Seriously, what kind of people are they hiring here now?"

Kala closes her eyes, forcing herself to take deep breaths as the man continues his outburst. On a day when she wasn't so tired, she would have defended herself and politely asked the man to leave. Today though, she wants nothing more than to just go home and sleep, and she can't bring herself to do anything more except wordlessly listen to the man in front of her, hoping that he'll run out of steam soon.

"—Calm the fuck down," a low voice interrupts minutes later, quiet but firm, "it was just a mistake."

She slowly opens her eyes as the man falls silent and then quickly widens them as she realises that he's now in an intense stare-off with another man, presumably the man who had just interrupted his rant.

"This is none of your business," he tells the man, now shaking the coffee cup in his face, "This is between me and her. Stay out of it or you'll regret it."

Kala holds her breath, glancing back and forth between the two men, a sense of dread quickly building in her chest. This was all her fault. She never took the evening shift because she was always exhausted after her labs, but Lito had a date tonight and he had begged her to cover for him and, well, Lito could be very convincing when he wanted to be. All he had to do was to put his hands on her shoulders, widen his eyes and stare at her. ("Muchas gracias, hermana," he had said, once she'd sighed and agreed, blowing a kiss at her, "I owe you one.")

"Will I regret it?" The other man says, his tone amused, an eyebrow raised. He slowly crosses his arms, looking completely relaxed, not at all affected by the fact that he is inches away from being slapped across the face by a cup of coffee. "I don't think I will."

A beat passes, then two, then three.

...and then Kala's mouth drops open as the man throws the coffee forcefully at the other man, shooting him a triumphant, self-satisfied grin before walking out of the coffee shop and slamming the door shut.

"Fuck!"

"Oh my gosh!"

Kala quickly walks around the counter, grabbing a bunch of napkins and handing them wordlessly to the blonde man who is cursing rapidly in a foreign language that she can't quite identify as he tries to dab at the wet patch on his shirt with his hands. He takes the napkins from her, gives her a curt nod without fully meeting her eyes, before doing his best to dry himself out.

"I'm really, really, really sorry," she tells him earnestly, feeling immensely guilty, shifting her weight from side to side as she watches him.

"Don't be," he replies after a moment, raising his head slightly, giving her a small shrug. "It's not your fault. That guy's an asshole."

"Well, it kind of was my fault," she says quickly, starting to ramble because one, she's always been a bit of a rambler and two, not only is she really very tired but now she can feel adrenaline flowing through her veins at what she's just witnessed. "I mean, he did ask for a cappuccino with two sugars, semi-skimmed milk, two extra shots and cinnamon powder, and it's entirely my fault that I missed out the extra shots. I shouldn't even be working this shift – I never work in the evenings usually – but Lito begged me to and I—" She stops suddenly, realising that the man in front of her is staring at her, his head tilted slightly to the side, a bemused expression on his face. "Sorry," she says, pulling a face, feeling her cheeks heating up as he continues to stare at her. "I think I'm just…tired. It's been a busy week, lots of deadlines."

He gives her a soft smile, shakes his head, and she's suddenly struck by how broad he is and the paleness of his blue eyes. "None of it was your fault," he asserts again, and something in his gaze makes her - want to - believe him. He shoots her another small smile, before returning to patting himself dry again, his forehead furrowing slightly as he focuses on the job.

"I really am sorry," she tells him, smiling despite herself as he lifts his head to frown at her, "I…Can I get you more napkins?"

He shakes his head, looking down at himself. "It's fine," he says, and she notes that she can barely see the stain anymore, hidden within the dark fabric of his shirt.

"What about a drink?" She asks, and flushes slightly at the eyebrow he raises, a smirk slowly appearing on his face.

"A beer would be nice," he replies, still smirking, "but failing that, a black coffee would be good."

Kala nods at him and can't help but breathe a sigh of relief at the simple order – a black coffee, she can do. She moves back around the counter to grab a cup, picking up a pen with her other hand, about to open her mouth to ask him his name but he beats her to it.

"Wolfgang."

Wolfgang has never understood how the world works and has never wanted to understand. All he knows is that ever since he was young, he has been fighting for survival. He's not sure why his life is like this – maybe he fucked up in some past life even more than he has in this life – but he's learnt to live with it: learnt when to stand his ground and fight and when to run, learnt how to crack safes and steal the odd item to sell and stay alive, and learnt how to keep a low profile and not draw attention to himself. It had been alarmingly quiet in Berlin recently, an observation that had both him and Felix on edge, so much so that they had scrambled the money together for two flights to San Francisco – no return – and were currently hiding out in a cheap hostel. He's been unable to sleep properly since he's arrived due to a mixture of jetlag and paranoia; instead, he's been spending most of his evenings on restless long runs around the city, his path taking him through numerous parks and ending at the coffee shop which he likes, partly because of the quality of their coffee beans and partly because of the loud Mexican barista who shares overly dramatic anecdotes from his life – without him asking – which are so exuberant that they manage to distract him from his own fucked up life, if only for a moment.

The day his routine changes takes him by surprise, just like most of the events in his life. It'd been a typical day for him: he'd woken up late, spent the day with Felix fielding calls from numerous people from Berlin and making plans for their next move, before grabbing some food at the local takeaway and heading out on his evening run. What wasn't typical for him was somehow managing to get himself involved in a confrontation in the middle of a coffee shop, moments away from starting a fistfight with an asshole, all because the girl behind the counter – a girl who he was sure he had never seen before now; he'd remember – was beautiful. In retrospect, it isn't exactly the smartest move he's ever made, but he's always been one to act on his instincts, something that Felix has always chided him for, and his instinct in that moment had told him to interfere and keep the girl safe. He thinks it's worth it when he sees her relax and smile though, her eyes warm. He lets his fists unclench, takes the napkins she offers, and concentrates very hard on not following the idiot out of the door and making him pay for throwing his coffee all over his favourite black shirt. He shakes his head at her dismissively as she starts to apologise to him, because really, she has nothing to be sorry for – she's probably never done anything truly wrong in her life – and gives her a smile, tries to make it reassuring. 'Reassuring' is not exactly something that Wolfgang has ever pulled off well, but it seems to work and he ends up with a steaming black coffee pushed into his hands and her name stuck in the back of his head. Kala.

It's stupid, he knows, but he can't help feeling a little bit disappointed when he returns to the coffee shop the next evening and doesn't find her there; instead, he's greeted by Lito behind the counter, his hands already moving to make him his usual black coffee.

"Wolfgang! Brother!" Lito greets, ever enthusiastic, and Wolfgang can't stop the small smile that graces his face as he steps towards the counter. It's only when he's inches away from the man that he realises that he's unusually happy, his eyes sparkling.

"You're happy," he notes, raising an eyebrow, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the counter as he watches him.

"Sí," Lito replies, with a nod. "I had a date yesterday."

Wolfgang smirks at that, raises his eyebrows as Lito turns and grins widely at him. "Went well then?" He asks, though they both know the answer, and whilst Wolfgang doesn't really know the man, just knows that he makes great coffee and tells great stories, he feels weirdly content at this piece of information.

Lito just laughs loudly, winks, but doesn't reply with actual words. They fall into a comfortable silence for a few moments, before Lito suddenly remembers something, whipping his head away from the coffee he is currently making to look at him. "Riley told me that there was some commotion in here last night," he says, eyeing him, a look of curiosity in his gaze. "With Kala?"

Wolfgang swallows, shrugs. "It was nothing," he tells him, shrugging again. "Just an asshole making a scene."

"Really?" Lito says, raising an eyebrow. Wolfgang doesn't meet his eye, looking past him to stare at the wall, feeling suddenly uncomfortable underneath the other man's inquisitive eyes. Lito doesn't take the hint, just leans forward and lowers his voice into a conspiratorial whisper as he continues. "Are you sure it was nothing? Because 'nothing' is not what Riley made it out to be," he pauses, his gaze suddenly intense, scanning his face for something, "or Kala, for that matter."

Wolfgang swallows again, shaking his head. He's not entirely sure what Lito was looking for in his expression, but he seems to find it, his eyes growing softer in understanding. "Kala, she—She has a boyfriend," Lito tells him, looking a touch apologetic.

"I didn't ask," Wolfgang replies immediately, defensively crossing his arms, his jaw tensing instinctively. He suddenly feels irritated for some reason, and he's not sure why. It's not like he's surprised by this revelation – she's gorgeous and he's well aware that he can't be the first man to think so – and, besides, it's not like 'boyfriends' have ever stopped him from pursuing a woman before.

"Wolfgang, brother," Lito starts, his voice solemn, and somehow he knows that the other man knows exactly where his thoughts are heading. "Kala's family and if you hurt her, I will…I will hurt you."

Wolfgang blinks at that, can't stop the smirk that starts to form as he watches Lito curl his hands into fists. Lito stares back at him for a second, then coughs, awkwardly running his hands through his hair. "Okay, maybe not hurt you," he corrects quickly, knowing that they're both fully aware who would win if they ever fought, "but you would...not get free coffee again?"

Wolfgang raises an eyebrow, the smirk now clear on his face. "You have never given me free coffee," he states bluntly, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes a fraction.

"Well, no, I haven't," Lito agrees, before shooting him a grin that is so earnest that it makes him want to go along with anything the man says, "But…you can have this one for free?"

Wolfgang laughs a little at the man's antics, but nods anyway. "Okay, okay," he says, lifting his hands up slightly in mock exasperation, before adopting a serious tone, "I won't hurt her, I promise."

He's not a liar; he never has been. Felix has (silently) theorised on multiple occasions that it's because everyone in his life has lied to him – his father, his cousins, his uncle – and he's not like them, but Wolfgang just thinks it's simply because he knows he's shit at lying so he doesn't bother trying. Regardless, he means it when he tells Lito he's not going to hurt her.

At least, not purposefully.

A/N: comments appreciated! it's been a long time since i've written anything