A/N: First Animal Crossing fic. Please be nice... Please review! Thanks!
Disclaimer: I own a copy of Animal Crossing, and of Animal Crossing: City Folk, but I'm not Nintendo.
"Brewster, you're a legend," I told the pigeon fondly as I downed my daily joe. "Really, this coffee's better than any I've tasted."
"Thank you," he replied in his soft-spoken way as I pushed my money, plus a little tip, over the counter.
I glanced around the familiar walls of the Roost, wondering why no one but me ever seemed to come into the little shop. Admittedly, it was in the basement of the museum, a rather empty building - despite my best efforts - that the villagers generally seemed to avoid. But it was a clean basement, and the chairs were comfy, for big slabs of wood anyway. But the fact remained that Brewster's only regular customers seemed to be myself, K.K., and the Kapp'n, although the two animals only came around about once a week. They led fairly interesting lives, though, the nomadic musician and the bus driver, and were good for a conversation, Kapp'n's irritating habit of flirting with me aside.
Must get lonely in here for Brewster, still, I mused.
"Not really," the pigeon replied. "Not usually one for company."
"Oh, I didn't realize I was speaking out loud. Sorry," I apologized. "I wouldn't really have pegged you for a hermit."
He rolled his eyes, going back to cleaning the mug in his hand. Brewster was a pigeon of few words, yes, but I caught the look in his eye when he watches the conversations between me and the other two regulars. He enjoyed having a little life in the coffee shop. He seemed to like watching people talk, even if he didn't reciprocate.
I didn't mind that. It made for a few awkward moments in the beginning, when I had just moved into town and discovered the dark shop. I quickly learned that trying to engage Brewster in a conversation was mostly pointless, as his answers to most questions posed to him were monosyllabic, and he would never pose any in return; now, though, after almost a year in the town, a year of near-daily trips to the museum for a cup and a short chat, I would call Brewster a good friend. I didn't know much about his life - he never did tell me who the pigeons in the pictures on the wall were, although I strongly suspected that they were family of some sort to Brewster - but I told him what happened in the town above, between me and my sort-of boyfriend Jeremiah, or whatever was on my mind. He was possibly the best listener in town, besides the mayor, although the mayor was only a good listener because he was asleep too much to interrupt, like most of the other villagers would.
"I'm not a hermit," Brewster said suddenly, cutting through my thoughts, "but I don't mind a lack of people around."
"How do you keep the shop afloat if no one ever comes around?" I blurted without thinking. Blushing, I amended my question. "Besides me, K.K. and the Kapp'n, I mean."
He looked up from his mug with amusement in his eyes. "Who ever said that the three of you didn't do that yourself?"
I grinned and nodded. "Guess we drink enough coffee for it!"
He picked up the pot and waved it at me, his usual signal to ask if I wanted a refill. I pushed my cup towards him with another smile, and he filled the mug almost to the top.
"Pigeon milk?"
"I'll take a splash, please," I nodded. He poured a couple of drops from the little metal creamer into the mug, turning the coffee tan. "Thanks."
"Drink it hot," he said warningly, with a hint of teasing. I waved him off and took a sip.
The coffee shop might have looked abandoned on the best of days, but to those of us who knew it, the Roost was the best spot in town for good friends... and it served a good coffee, too.