The crisp autumn air bit at Rose's exposed ears and nose. Shivering, she sped up her walk and pulled her scarf tighter around her neck.
Rose was thankful when she finally got to the wooden coffeehouse door, marking the end of her short yet tedious walk from campus. Rose breathed in the warm air, savoring the relaxing scent of coffee. She surveyed the room, and noted that it was slightly crowded, despite it being mid-afternoon, not exactly what most people saw as the optimum time for coffee.
The coffeehouse was small, with way too many tables crammed inside it. The floor, walls, and ceiling were all covered in wood, giving the shop a warm, log cabin type feel. However, the geometric-style art helped modernize it. The only word that seemed to describe the coffee shop well was: quaint.
Rose added herself to the end of the short line, watching the barista write down the orders. When it was finally her turn to order, she didn't even need to speak.
"The usual?" Mickey asked, a small smile appearing on his face at the sight of Rose's face.
"Thanks," Rose smiled back.
"It's nice to see a friendly face around here."
"Likewise," Rose responded, "There must be a business conference in town or something."
"Must be. I haven't seen this many suits since Queen Elizabeth's coronation," Mickey said, referencing a private joke the two of them had about their age difference. In reality Mickey was only a few years older than Rose, but they refused to see it that way.
"And is that Queen Elizabeth the first or second?" Rose asked, going along with the bit.
"First, obviously."
Mickey was Rose's only real friend. At school, she tended to pay more attention to her work than surroundings, which left her with only a few acquaintances, and as a result she never got invited to any parties. This never really bothered Rose, but it did sometimes get lonely to be so solitary.
"Here's your tea," Mickey handed her the drink he had been making whilst they were chatting.
"Thanks Mickey," Rose said, taking the hot mug from his hands. She then sat down at the nearest table, one of at least four. Rose opened her laptop, sighing at the amount of homework she was assigned.
It couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes after that that Rose saw (in her peripheral vison) someone slide into the seat across from her. Without having to look up, Rose knew it was Mickey, probably on a break or done with his shift.
"Hey," she greeted, eyes still glued to the paper she was attempting to write.
"Hello," Rose whipped her head up when she heard an unfamiliar voice respond. The man sitting across from her had brown, sticky-uppy hair that looked great on him, wise brown eyes, and was wearing a tight brown pinstriped suit. "You don't mind if I sit here, do you?"
"Why?" Rose realized how rude that sounded as soon as it left her lips. "I mean, there are three other empty tables here."
"I'm new in town. What better way to get to know people?"
"You're unusual," Rose cracked one of her signature wide smiles, "I like that."
Rose kept trying to concentrate on her paper once again, but she found herself glancing at the stranger every few seconds. He was just sitting there, sipping his tea (actually, the same chai tea Rose was known to order), but she found him strangely intriguing. The silence and mystery was killing Rose, so she finally caved and properly introduced herself.
"I'm Rose, by the way."
"Dr. John Smith."
"Doctor, huh? Does that mean you have a PhD or that you're an actual doctor?"
"Depends on your definition of 'actual doctor,'" he said, a hint of a smile on his face.
Rose took a second to interpret that, but came up blank. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Depends on who you are."
"You really are an unusual man."
"I thought you liked that."
"I do."
Just then, a text alert went off on Rose's phone. It read:
From: Donna Noble
You don't happen to know where the spare key is, do you?
Rose groaned internally, and started putting away her computer and textbook.
"Where are you going?"
"My flatmate lost her key and got locked out of the apartment…again," Rose explained.
"Again?" John inquired.
"She's incredibly forgetful."
"Ah."
Rose swung her backpack onto her shoulder, and pulled up her hoof, bracing herself against the crisp fall wind.
The next day was a Saturday, so Rose decided to go to the coffeehouse to do more of her homework since Donna had to work (she was a temp at some big key company) and she hated being in the apartment alone. Also, although she shied away from admitting it, Rose wanted to see that John guy again. He intrigued her the way few things could.
When she entered the little coffee shop, Rose saw that business was as slow as it typically was, with about half the tables being empty, the other half filled with quirky people who drank coffee at odd times (it was once again around two in the afternoon), like Rose.
Rose walked up to the counter (there was no line, as per usual) and was surprized to see Mickey there since he didn't usually work weekends.
"The usual?"
"Um, actually, no. I'll try your seasonal-whatever coffee. Decaf."
"I thought you hated coffee?" Mickey asked, raising his eyebrows as began making her drink.
"It's good to try new things. Be more adventurous!"
"By trying a different type of coffee?"
"Now you're getting it!"
Mickey chuckled under his breath. "I guess whatever conference thing is over today."
"I suppose so…" Rose felt a bit disappointed that the man she talked to yesterday wasn't going to be there. Or she assumed so, since he was probably part of the conference.
"That'd be three and a half pounds," Mickey said, bringing Rose's thoughts back to earth.
"Blimey," said Rose, shuffling around her purse to find loose change, "maybe I should just stick to tea."
After she paid, Rose sat in her usual seat by the window, opened her sticker-covered laptop and continued reading a paper on Charles Dickens she started yesterday.
Rose was about halfway finished with it, when she saw someone approaching from the corner of her eye. She looked up, desperate for any excuse to stop reading.
"You again," Rose said as Dr. John Smith sat in the seat across from her.
"Don't get too excited," he replied sarcastically.
"Why do you come here?"
"I already told you. I'm new in town."
"You know, there's a lot more people to meet at the Starbucks across the street."
"I like this place. It's very…quaint, charming, you know. And all the people at Starbucks's are never very nice."
Rose stopped, taken aback by his similar description of the coffeehouse. However, new thoughts sprung into her head when she saw John pull out something from his brown coat pocket.
"You brought a banana? To a coffee shop?"
John pointed the unpeeled banana at Rose before saying, in a very serious tone of voice: "Always bring a banana to a coffee shop, Rose. Good source of potassium."
Rose then couldn't help but start laughing. And once she started, she couldn't stop. Rose was laughing so hard and for so long, that some people started to stare at her. After what felt like hours, Rose looked up, gasping for air, only to find that John had disappeared.
That stopped her laughing immediately. She looked around, desperately trying to spot John. When her search held no prevail, Rose slumped down in her seat. She slowly began working on her homework again, a hint of a smile on her face, because she knew that man was coming back.
It wasn't until Tuesday that she saw him again.
Rose entered the coffeehouse at eight in the morning, an hour before her classes started. She stood in the short line (the place was more crowded in the mornings), getting a tad impatient from how long it was taking everyone to order.
However, when it was her turn, she was still in quite a good mood, since her favourite class was on Tuesday mornings.
"The usual?"
"You know me too well, Mickey."
Rose quickly scanned the room, looking to see what empty spots there were. She saw that her favourite table was empty. However, Rose didn't see the familiar face she was looking for.
"Who's that man you keep talking to?" Mickey asked, jolting Rose out of her train of thought.
"Just some guy," Rose shrugged, though she felt like that was a little bit of a lie.
"Is he bothering you?" Mickey asked, concern on his face.
"No, he's a…friend, I guess."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I dunno."
Mickey handed Rose her drink, and she paid the usual two pounds, before turning to sit in her seat.
"Hey, Rose," Mickey said, causing Rose to turn around to face him once more.
"Yeah Mickey?"
"I-I was wondering if you'd like to maybe I don't know," Mickey started, his voice shaking along with his hands. "You know what? Never mind."
"Are you ill?" Rose asked Mickey, who certainly looked it.
"No, no, I'm fine," he replied, perhaps a little too quickly. "Just…enjoy your tea."
"Thanks," Rose smiled, but her eyebrows were still creased in confusion.
Rose turned around once more, and made a beeline for her seat. However, she noticed that someone was already sitting there. Someone very familiar.
Rose sat down across from John (who was wearing a blue suit today), without saying a word. She silently pulled out her book and started reading.
"You like Charles Dickens?" John said, referencing the book she was reading by him.
"Mmm-hmm."
"I like that one ghost story, I can't remember what it's called…"
"A Christmas Carol?" Rose suggested, still trying to sound bored.
"No, no. The one with the trains!"
"The Signal-Man?" Rose said, finally looking up from her book, excitement in her voice.
"Yes, brilliant, that is! The best short story ever written!"
"My favourite is The Mystery of Edwin Drood," Rose said, waving her copy of the book around for emphasis.
"I always thought the killer was the boy's uncle."
"Me too! It is a shame that he died before he could finish it."
After Rose's exclamation, she and John lapsed into silence once more. Rose continued reading, John sipped his tea (chai, same as Rose's). It was after about twenty minutes of this that John decided to speak up once more.
"So, Rose," he started, making Rose look up so fast she think she got whiplash.
"Yeah?"
"I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me sometime," John said it all so fast that it took Rose a second to process what he was asking.
"Doctor John Smith are you asking me out on a date?"
"Um, yeah?" he said it like it was a question.
"You know," Rose said, writing something John couldn't see on one of the paper napkins, "normal guys just ask for a girl's phone number."
"I thought we established this already. I'm far from normal."
Rose then grabbed her backpack, ready to leave. She slid the napkin with her phone number on it over to John. "Pick me up at seven."
