Jack just wanted some coffee.

Sure, he had expected a long line. He had expected bored baristas who looked like they had something better to do. He had expected loud chatter and the aurora of sugar and caffeine. What he had not expected, however, was a particularly handsome challenge.

Jack had been to this coffee shop dozens of times. The stacks of books and display of pastries were a familiar sight to him. The usual wave of warmth cast itself again on Jack as he stepped inside. Everything about this place was just part of Jack's daily routine - he knew the people, the employees, the menu, the sights and the sounds and the smells - but what was new to him today was the brunette sitting at the table by the window.

Jack couldn't find it in himself to say a word as he passed. He simply strode up to the LINE STARTS HERE sign with his hands in his pockets, biting his lip and wondering if he should say anything at all. The new costumer had his nose buried in a book, after all; he seemed fairly busy. But his looks surpassed that of anyone he had seen in quite a while, so, wasn't that reason enough to say hello?

Jack mulled this over for several minutes as he waited in line. He thought of how the conversation would go. Jack would walk over, smile, charmingly ask what it was the other was reading. Make a witty comment regarding that. Introduce himself. Ask more questions. Smile a lot, and try to be cool. It was just what he always did when he met cute people. It shouldn't be that hard, should it? Jack was usually fairly good at these things.

"What can I get you, Jack?" came a cheerful voice, heavily accented with a Scottish drawl.

"Hey, Merida," Jack smiled, brought from his thoughts; "The usual?"

"Alright," Merida said, typing it quickly into the register - iced black coffee - "That's three eighty-four." Jack dug around his sweatshirt pocket, and emerged holding the required amount of payment. Merida thanked him, and sped off down the counter to the expresso machine and coffee-perfecting gadgets. She looked almost silly in her uniform, what with her curly mob of electrifying red hair poofing out from under a cap. Her teal eyes sparkled with friendliness and diligence. Merida wasn't always here - she was the kind of person who needed flexible hours to work, or wouldn't work at all - but when she was, she wasted no time in getting Jack his order. He'd come here so frequently, in fact, Jack had gotten to know most of the cafe's employees through small conversations. Merida, though, he would consider a friend.

Jack stepped aside, moving to stand under the PICK UP ORDER HERE sign and wait. He leaned his back against the counter, facing the bustling seating area of the place. The person of such beauty that he'd spied coming in was, thankfully, still present. He, too, sipped iced black coffee as he scanned the pages of a thick leather-bond volume, looking as if he took no notice of the world outside. Jack found himself drawn to this stranger, thinking the sight of someone so lost in thought and entranced by a book almost inspiring, and, despite himself, utterly attractive.

"He's single, you know." said Merida's voice from behind him. Jack straightened up, startled. He turned toward Merida, a blush blooming conspicuously on his fair skin. She smirked at him with a sort of self-satisfaction.

"What?" he asked stupidly.

"The guy you're starin' at," Merida clarified; "He's single. So you ought to go talk to him."

"How do you know?" asked Jack, taking his drink and blushing more and more deeply as the conversation progressed.

"We're friends."

"You are?"

"Yup. 'is name's Hiccup. Real nice guy. Kinda adorable, I'd say."

"Adorable, huh?" Jack chuckled, throwing a glance behind him at the oblivious Hiccup.

"Go talk to him, mate," Merida urged, smiling warmly. Okay, Jack certainly couldn't back out now. Not with Merida's support.

"Do I look alright?" he asked, fiddling with his hair and straightening his sweatshirt.

"You look fine. Go."

Jack took a short breath, clutched his coffee cup, and turned. Hiccup, it seemed, had not heard a word of their conversation over the hum of the atmosphere. He sipped his coffee cup contently, still reading his book.

Jack walked over, getting increasingly more nervous with every step. I hope he appreciates corny pick up lines. Jack thought to himself.

Jack reached the booth at last, sinking down in the opposite seat, biting his lip and combing through the array of pick up lines he had memorized.

"Hey," he said, in the most charismatic way he could. Hiccup's eyes raised from behind his book, eyeing Jack cautiously.

"Hey." Well, no immediate rejection. Jack thought; this is going well.

"So, uh, are you an alien? Because you're out of this world."

To Jack's surprise, Hiccup snorted. "C'mon," he pleaded; "You can do better than that."

Jack didn't know what he had expected, but it wasn't really that. He cleared his throat nervously, his extroverted front dissolving rapidly, and leaned back, pulling at the collar of his sweatshirt and fanning himself.

"Is it hot in here?" he asked; "or is it just you?"

"Oh," Hiccup said, cupping his chin in his hand hopelessly; "That one's even worse."

Jack could feel heat rise to his cheeks. "I take it you don't really appreciate corny pick-up lines, then?"

"It's not so much the actual lines," Hiccup said mildly; "It's the execution."

"Oh, really?" Jack said, raising an eyebrow; "Care to demonstrate?" Hiccup directed his attention to closing his book and moving it aside, seeming to disregard Jack's inquiry.

"You know, you really are a cruel thief," Hiccup said, "Stealing my heart like that." Before Jack could make a witty rebuttal, however, Hiccup leaned across the table, looking deeply into Jack's eyes as if he were peering into his soul. His breath hitched at the sight of Hiccup's own, bright and lively and emerald green, like a forest in a summer storm. "It's alright, though," Hiccup went on; "As long as I can have yours."

Damn. Jack's face reddened, and, for once, he was at a loss for words.

"I, um..."

"Call me, alright?" Hiccup said, sliding a napkin imprinted with his number across the table; "I'm Hiccup, by the way."

"Jack..." Jack said, taking the napkin and stuffing it in his pocket; "When should I-"

But when he looked up, Hiccup was already walking out the door, his book tucked neatly under his arm.

Disclaimer: I didn't make up these wonderful pick-up lines, of course. They can be found here:

2005/07/15/113249326767656220/

Thanks for reading, friends! xx :)