Coffee Shop AU

Summary: Weiss finds company in a kind barista at a local coffee shop in town.

A/N: So this little one-shot is actually an excerpt from an original story I started writing about 7 years ago that I adapted for Freezerburn because I thought the dynamics between the original characters were perfect for Weiss and Yang. I may or may not continue this and adapt it into a full Freezerburn ficlet at some point, but no promises! I've still got tons of other stuff to complete for you lovely people!


It was getting late. The mid-afternoon sun burned brightly through the wide, ceiling-to-floor windows that looked out onto Vale's busy streets, its rays providing Weiss with more than a sufficient amount of light as she scribbled angrily on a crumpled napkin. She had been hiding out at a small café wedged in between a low-grade law firm and vacant lot, looking for any excuse to stay away from Beacon for just a little longer. Ruby had called her twice that day, leaving long, worried voicemails that Weiss didn't dare listen to more than once. She wanted more than anything to talk to her best friend, but she knew that as soon as she let Ruby back into her life again, she was going to have to talk about what happened at Open House.

On the other side of the counter, a young barista with long, golden-blonde hair eyed Weiss curiously as she poured coffee into another customer's empty mug. After setting down the pot, she tossed her hair behind her shoulders, and approached the stool where Weiss was sitting.

"Rough day?" she murmured casually, as though conversing with customers was just a regular habit of hers.

Weiss looked up at the girl, and forced a smile. "I'm fine."

The barista just clicked her tongue. "Not that it's any of my business, but you've been sitting here by yourself for an hour, now, and you haven't ordered a thing."

"I'll have a medium decaf latte, then," Weiss said, hoping it would get the girl to leave her alone.

She gave her a sideward glance. "Is that what you really want?"

Instead of answering her, Weiss turned back to her napkin, and started running through a list of words in her mind that rhymed with fake. She looked down at what she had written so far, and immediately felt the urge to tear it up, and start over. But no matter how many times she started over, she knew she would never find the answers she was looking for.

"You're a writer?"

Weiss sighed. "Aspiring musician." She met the girl's bright, welcoming lilac eyes, and felt herself ease up a bit. The barista was smiling, a knowing expression written all over her face.

"I'm a musician myself," she chimed, leaning over the counter to read Weiss's hectic chicken scratch. "That is, if you consider a drummer to be a musician."

She nodded. "Of course I do. As long as you take it seriously."

"Serious as can be." The girl squinted her eyes at something on the napkin, and frowned. "I'm not a lyricist, but your words seem to be very poetic. It sounds kind of sad, though."

Weiss slapped her hand over the napkin, and pulled it toward her. "It's personal."

The barista stood up straight, and gave Weiss a calculating look. "Sorry. I'm not trying to intrude… I really just came over here to make sure you were okay. You looked like you were about to cry before I stepped in."

It was difficult to be mad at her. The sincere look on the girl's face, along with her soft, easy-going voice, made her seem like such a sweetheart, and it was impossible for Weiss to send her away. "Honestly," Weiss muttered, her throat tightening with every syllable, "I'm not having a great day. Or week, I should say. I drove all the way out here from Beacon Academy just so I could get away from everyone for a while…"

Her eyes widened, thin brows shooting up into her choppy bangs. "The Beacon?"

Weiss gave her a hesitant nod. "Yeah, I'm a student there… You know of it?"

"Of course," the barista replied, moving further down the counter where she'd left her pot. She brought it back over to Weiss, twisting the handle between her hands. "My sister's a student a Beacon. It has one of the best tech courses in all of Vale… Though I'm guessing you're not going for the tech."

"Actually… I am," Weiss admitted, her gaze moving back toward her napkin. The last thing she wanted to do was tell some stranger about how her father was forcing her to take some business and computer language classes that she barely understood just because she was going to have to take over the family Electronics Company someday. What the blonde didn't know, though, was that Beacon also had a great music program that allowed Weiss the outlet she needed to focus on her songwriting when the rest of her classes were beginning to weigh her down.

"I get it, though," the barista continued, offering Weiss a sympathetic smile. "It's a nice place to think, isn't it?"

She glanced up, her brows knitting together as she tried to remember what it was they had just been talking about. The café. Right. She cleared her throat, tucking the napkin into her purse beside her, and turned back to the girl. "Yes, yes it is. It's especially good for when I really need to write." She frowned. "But my mind is just so jumbled right now, I can't even figure out what I want to say."

The barista huffed. "That's why I love the drums so much." She let go of the pot handle, and held up her hands as though she were holding two drumsticks. "No matter what mood I'm in, whether I'm angry, sad, happy, or super excited, I can always just express myself by banging out on my set. No words are necessary."

Weiss lowered her gaze to the faux-granite countertop before her. "Sometimes, if I don't at least attempt to write out what's on my mind, I feel like I'm going to explode…"

The girl sighed. "Seriously. You should give the drums a try. I'm telling you, you'll feel a million times better."

"I would, but I've been down that road before." She thought back to her first semester at Beacon, when she'd first met Ruby in the Robotics Club. The energetic brunette had constructed a small machine with a built-in metronome that was programmed to keep a tempo on the drums. There had been an issue with the metronome, however, and the robot would always miss the third beat, throwing off the rest of the tempo. Weiss had tried to record herself playing a simple track for Ruby to reprogram the metronome to, but the drumsticks had felt so foreign to her, so loose compared to her keyboard or guitar, and no matter how many times she tried, she found she just couldn't keep a beat. "They seem to be the only instrument I can't play."

"That's a shame," the barista chuckled, a twinkle in her pale violet eyes. She pulled out a pad of paper and a pen, and flipped to a clear page. "Did you want whipped cream with your latte?"

Weiss exhaled, suddenly remembering that she'd promised the girl an order. "If you think it'll make me happy, then I'm up for anything… And I'll take it to go."

She wrote something on the pad of paper, and stuffed it back into the pocket of her apron. Without another word, she turned away from Weiss, and walked back to the other side of the counter, disappearing around the corner. She returned a moment later, latte in hand, and gestured for Weiss to follow her to the register.

Weiss stood up slowly, feeling sluggish again, and walked to the register at the end of the counter. The barista rang her up, and waited silently as Weiss dug out her wallet from her purse, and handed her ten lien. "Keep the change," she told the blonde, grabbing the latte and her receipt. Before leaving, she gave her one last gracious smile. "Thanks."

"Enjoy your week," she replied. "It was nice talking to you." She backed away from the counter, and moved on to another customer. Weiss turned around, and pushed out the door. It was nice talking to you, too.