He wakes up and there's nothing special about today. It's the same as it always is and he has to go to the same job, in the same café, in the same small town that he's been living in for all his life. The sky isn't brighter and the clouds don't let anymore sun than usual, if anything the skies look darker. Not that foreboding dark, but the kind that makes you think you might actually like the rain that will soon sprinkle and wet the grey concrete. He steps out of his house to test the air. The wind snuggles against his skin, soaking in his warmth, it's nice, refreshing. He takes a red hoodie just in case it rains, so he won't get soaked. He steps out and locks up his house, before heading down the street, humming along to whatever song his IPod has decided to play this morning. People go by and he smiles awkwardly at those that walk right past him, keeping his head down when he reaches streetlights.
He arrives to the café on time, as always, and when he walks in the bell rings lightly, announcing his presence. Lydia pops her head out from the back, where she's finishing up the daily baking, before smiling softly and continuing with her duties. There was a time when he would flirt and daydream of having a life with her. A nice two story house, with a large green yard, a white fence and a tree with a tire swing in the front. Bickering over things like whose turn it is to change the diapers and who had to wash the dishes and do the laundry and in the end they would both work together to get everything done. Like a team, because that's exactly what a marriage means, caring about your needs as much as someone else's and having someone who's willing to do the same. He doesn't daydream about Lydia anymore, though. Now they're friends, and nothing more, as they should be.
He smiles at the two customers, Boyd and Erica, sitting by the window to his right before turning to greet a depressed Scott. Scott moved to town a few weeks ago, following his parent's divorce, and as he stares down at his empty cup, Stiles wonders if there's anything they can do to cheer him up. Allison appears at the counter, wiping it down with a moist cloth. She's just lost her mother and Stiles can't think of a better person to talk to. He walks over casually and she looks up at him with a half-hearted smile.
"Hi, Stiles," her voice is soft and angelic, masking the pain obvious in her eyes.
"Hey," he leans against the counter and looks over at Scott, "there's someone I want you to meet." Allison's eyes land on Scott and she looks down, shaking her head.
"I'm not really looking for anyone right now," she mumbles, fiddling with the cloth, smile not quite meeting her eyes. Stiles nods and leans closer to her.
"I think you can help each other," he tilts his head towards Scott, "come on, take a break."
Allison sighs and removes her black apron to reveal their work uniform—a skinny black tie, white blouse and black skirt. He walks her over to Scott and introduces them, they fake smiles and sit down awkwardly across from each other.
He walks over to the counter, hands his hoodie on the coat rack and pulls the black apron on. He peaks over at them as he prepares two cappuccinos. Mumbles from their table harmonize with the hum of the café and by the time he brings them the drinks, Allison and Scott have learned to smile honestly again.
Of course, she can't stay there long but Stiles takes over the counter and continues getting drinks for every customer that enters while she takes her break. Eventually Scott leaves with Allison's number saved on his phone and Allison returns to being herself—as much as any person who just lost a parent can. She doesn't discuss anything with him but the playful nudge she gives him as she reclaims the counter is more than enough for Stiles.
Later, Lydia leans out and thanks him.
When it finally starts raining, it's around two in the afternoon and Allison is long gone. The only noise in the café is the sound of Lydia cleaning up and preparing to leave for the day. The rain pounds loudly at the windows and still the lights shine brightly inside, daring the rain to try and turn them off.
"See you tomorrow," Lydia chimes as she exits the store with her clear umbrella. He worries the storm will try and swallow her up, until he sees her drive safely away. The café remains empty and while he could simply close up and call it a day, he lets himself linger over tables and he wipes them down. The traffic outside is dead and the sounds of dripping water lets him know that there's a leak. He sets a bowl beneath it and wipes the wet ground around. There's no music and the windows fog slightly because the heater's running. He sits down, deciding to wait out the storm and plays his IPod.
The bell chimes and the rain pouring outside sounds louder for a second as someone steps inside. Stiles stands immediately and rushes over to the other side of the counter to grab some towels. He hands them to the stranger and offers a smile.
"I can hang your coat if you'd like," the man nods and shrugs it off, handing it over before taking the towels with a silent thank you.
"I thought you were closed until I saw you inside," the man grumbles. Stiles sets the wet coat on the rack and wipes off some of the droplets of water with a towel. He turns to the man, dressed in a black business suit. He looks familiar but Stiles can't quite place him.
"I didn't feel like closing up early," he shrugs and steps over to the counter, "I figured I might as well ride the storm out here." They stare at each other a moment.
"Lucky me," comes the mumbled reply. There's a smile at the edge of the man's lips and Stiles stares at it for a moment before allowing himself to break out in laughter.
"Can I get you anything?" he fumbles around with the pen on the cash register, nervously licking his lips before looking up.
"Coffee?" the man leans on the counter and Stiles' heart flips twice as he pours the drink. His hands shake a little as he slides it over but nothing spills, to his delight. "My name's Derek by the way." Their eyes meet and Stiles takes a deep breath.
"I'm Stiles," Derek nods and points at the nametag pinned over Stiles' heart.
"I know." They smile at each other. "Do I know you from somewhere? You seem really familiar."
"Small town," Stiles plays with the pen as Derek takes a sip of his coffee.
"No, I know you," Derek says certainly, "I swear I've met you before." Stiles is about ready to just agree with him, because Derek looks too familiar. He leans over the counter and they set about trying to figure out how and where they've met. They never find out. Instead they somehow end up talking about their favorite films, shows, foods and eventually family. Derek has an uncle and a sister whom he works for at Hale Law Services, he loves them both though they drive him mad and constantly mock him for his addiction to caffeine. Stiles talks about his father and even his mother. It's then he finds out about Derek's family and he wonders how he could have lived without having heard of the fire.
"When I get married and have kids," he turns to Derek, "I'm moving us next to a fire department." He's rewarded with a smile.
"Too much noise," Derek hums, "it'll wake the kids and you'll never get them back to sleep."
"Okay so we'll just have to buy that expensive alarm system that they show on TV," Derek nods.
"Chances are you'd lock yourself out of the house," Stiles elbows him playfully in the rubs, "you'd be on a first name basis with the cops the first week you got the system." Derek drinks his coffee and Stiles rolls his eyes.
"The password would be something we'd always remember, a date or something," he studies how Derek's eyebrow rises to him in question.
"Birthdays are pretty obvious," he mumbles. Stiles shakes his head.
"I'm not that stupid," he thinks about it and looks over at the calendar on the wall. June 1st, 2013. He smiles and turns to Derek, " Zero, Six, Zero, One, twenty thirteen." Derek gives him another eyebrow raise before looking over at the calendar.
"You're going to use today's date?" He turns back to Stiles, skeptical.
"I don't know, but it's a nice number, add the digits and you get twenty-three," he smiles, "that's how old I am." Derek chuckles and Stiles glares at him. "What?"
"I'm thirty-two," he smiles. Twenty-three, thirty- two? 23 is 32 backwards. Stiles smiles and laughs with him. The rain settles down a little bit and Stiles washes Derek's cup. Derek, as it turns out, is quite the handyman. He patches up the ceiling as Stiles puts the left over pastries and croissants in a bag to take home. When they're done, Derek pulls his coat on and Stiles shrugs his hoodie on.
They walk to the door together.
Across the street Lydia is holding hands with Isaac, smiling. She watches as Derek escorts Stiles into his car and drives away. Sighing she turns to look at Isaac, who seems somewhat saddened.
"You okay?" she asks softly. Isaac looks over at the shop.
"It's been three years," he mumbles, "Do you think they'll ever remember each other."
"Wounds take time to heal," Lydia leans into him. She hears heels approaching her from behind and turns to find Scott and Allison walking towards them. "Marriage looks good on you Allison." They smile half-heartedly to each other before crossing the street and opening the shop. They replace everything that was used and set the store up as it was before the accident. Scott removes the patch up work Derek did. When they're done, they light two candles near the entrance in memory of their amnesia-ridden friends.
"Let's just hope he's in the mood for coffee again tomorrow," Scott sighs. Allison leans her head against Scott's shoulder.
"I'm worried about what'll happen when I start showing," she puts a hand over her stomach and Scott pulls her closer. He presses a kiss to her forehead.
"We'll deal with that later." They put the candles out and close up the shop, heading home and preparing for the next day.
A/N: This story takes place in 2019, inspired by 50 first dates, only both of them can't remember each other. They've suffered some long term and a lot of short term memory loss, incase that wasn't clear.