The sound of wind crashing down on the roof and trickling down the windowsill interrupted the captain's thoughts. Wait, no. He paused, pressing his brows together in confusion. Not wind- Rain. He sighed, eyes focusing on the window. Of course it was rain. It had been raining all summer. Shaking his head, he tried to push the incredibly embarrassing and false assumption out of his head, blaming it on his lack of sleep.

A loud voice, reeking of impatience snapped him out of his self-pity. Questioning eyes darted across the room, landing on the old lady. "Sorry?" He gave a questioning look. The woman sighed, obviously less impressed than child being offered those cheap knock-off toys that parents are so sure they can get away with. "Coffee." She repeated sliding the receipt over the smooth bench.

"Right. Of course." Killian's lips curled up into a forced smile before his eyes rested on the small piece of paper. Maybe taking up a job at Grannies hadn't been his best decision so far, but Emma gave him little choice. Rolling his eyes, he soaked up the information before recalling what he'd learnt.

It's just milk and coffee. Nothing you haven't seen before. He nodded to himself, making his way towards the machine. Reaching over, he grabbed a paper cup and placed it under the machine. Blue button makes coffee come out. He lifted a steady finger, pressing down on the blue button. Naturally, he hadn't taken into account that the force of the hot, bitter liquid mightn't be kind to the frail, light cup. It spun out from under the machine, oozing liquid spilling everywhere. A hooked hand reached out to try and catch the cup, but it slid right through. Killian cursed under his breath, fumbling for the blue button to try and make it stop. Instead, it increased the speed.

A puddle was forming on the ground, knocking the paper cup further and further from his reach. Eyes darting behind him, he noticed the customer was out of sight and Granny was nowhere to be seen. Biting his lip, he quickly grabbed another cup to try and catch the remaining liquid, but as soon as he placed it under the machine, the coffee trickled out its last few pathetic drops. "Really?" A cold expression appeared on his face, glaring at the ugly puddle on the ground as if he could evaporate it away with the heat of his gaze.

He pressed the blue button carefully with the pointed end of his hook, holding the cup steady with his hand. Nothing happened. "No, no. Don't do this to me now." Sighing, he pressed it again and again until a hiss sounded from the machine. His eyes narrowed. At first, it began trickling out, but quickened into what could only be equated to a firehouse. Boiling liquid spat out burning his only hand. He cursed again, letting another sad, paper cup fall victim to the relentless coffee waterfall.

Desperately shaking his hand, he wiped it against his apron, trying not to focus on the pain. Alright. This time, put the bloody cup under the damn machine and press the god-forsaken button once. He angrily fumbled for another cup, holding under the machine and pressing the button only once. A moment passed before the familiar hiss sounded and a stream began pouring out at a steady rate. It filled the cup exactly to the line and he placed it carefully on the counter. Sighing in relief, the pirate opened the fridge and grabbed the milk, closing it with his foot. His eyes focused on the milk the entire time, making sure the cloudy liquid wouldn't turn on him like its brown companion. He unscrewed the lid carefully, resting the container against his hook and placing the little yellow lid on the counter. Slowly, he tipped the milk out into the cup, cautiously eyeing the volume of the little cup. Once he'd felt satisfied, he held the container up vertically, smiling smugly to himself. He'd beaten the coffee machine's sick game. No amount of bitter liquid could prevent him from achieving his goals. Stupid coffee should have known not to mess with a pirate.

Holding the milk container against his body with his hook, he lifted the lid and began screwing it on and took a step back. His foot slid out from underneath him and the milk container flew into the air as the man dropped into devil's puddle. He could feel the now-warm liquid soaking into his hair only moments before the milk came splashing down on his torso. He lay still for a moment, feeling his pride trickle away. Footsteps sounded and a wrinkly face pierced through his clear view of the ceiling. Granny was wearing her signature glare, looking down on him like vermin. "I- uh," He lifted an arm, twisting his hook slightly. "Maybe I shouldn't make the coffee."