Disclaimer: I do hereby disclaim all rights and responsibilities for the characters in this collection. Kudos to Bryke, indeed.
Word Count: 926
Summary: In which Asami makes matches almost as well as she makes mochas, and Tahno and Korra are just as fucking stubborn as ever. – Tahnorra, Coffee Shop!AU. Written for Tahno Week.
Author's Notes: 4/29/12. Written for Tahno Week! Day One: Dream. Dedicated to oriorio; I never saw Tahno in this light before, but her love for this version of Tahno ["The Tahno that has a massive crush on Korra and can't admit it..."] makes me want to try. Please know that this isn't supposed to be anywhere near the same level of quality of my other stories... this one is just for funsies. ;)
(LOVING A CHARACTER WITH ONLY SEVEN MINUTES OF SCREEN TIME IS SUCH A BLESSING AND A CURSE.)
Beta'd by ebonyquill.
(dream)
"Just go talk to her."
Startled, but too proud to show it, Tahno sent a bleary glare toward the woman in the apron beside him. He wondered how long she'd been standing there.
"You're seeing things, Sato."
She smirked.
"I'm seeing lots of things, actually."
He scowled.
"What you should be seeing is the bottom of a coffee grinder."
Asami cast one lingering look at the young woman sitting alone at the table by he window, then offered him a trademark knowing smile; she tossed an easy "whatever you say, boss" over her shoulder as she sauntered away.
"One caffe mocha, extra hot–"
"—no whipped cream," he finished dryly, scribbling shorthand over the cup. "Yeah. Got it."
A little befuddled by his tone, the young woman with dark skin and blue eyes curiously handed him her card. "Yeesh," she muttered a little sheepishly. "If that's not a sign that I'm drinking too much coffee, then I don't know what is."
Tahno tried not to roll his eyes. Professional, he could be—when necessary; patient, not so much. "You know, some people attempt new things every once in a while."
"Uh... yeah," she allowed,her spine stiffening ever-so-slightly. "And some people just know how they like their coffee."
Tahno sent her a meaningful look. "Extra hot?" he confirmed.
(His answer was a very meaningful glare.)
"You know," he continued, tapping the keys in time with his speech. All his life, he'd perfected the tone to a T; direct, yet subtle, with a just-enough pinch of innuendo and the slightest slice of disdain. "Some people might not realize their own preferences for adventurousness until, say... a sense of direction comes along."
"Indeed."
"Indeed," he echoed, leveling his gaze. "I for one believe that mornings are much more tolerable when whipped cream is involved. Some people might agree with me."
"Yeah," she muttered. She snatched the card back from his hand and ripped it away, like she might get burned. "And some people want to order their coffee the way they like it without anybody questioning them on it."
(Okay. So maybe he'd added more than just a pinch.)
"No need to get so defensive," he easily replied, racking up the final touches on her purchase at the register. "It's a little early to be biting off heads, but we do have some scones in the display."
The girl frowned. She stuffed her card into her wallet without another word and headed to the end of the counter. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that she overheard him taking the next customers' orders—and, inevitably, their swooning giggles. She eventually found Sato at the end of the bar, where her drink was already waiting.
Later that night, as Asami and Korra walked home, Korra turned to her roommate and asked: "Do you think I spend too much time in the coffee shop?"
"Why would you say that?" Asami asked in return, turning a thoughtful frown onto the girl beside her. "I like it when you visit me."
"I know," Korra sighed. "It's just that... well, that creepy barista guy has always acted a little weird, but today he started really commenting on my order."
"Is that all he commented on?"
"What?"
"Nothing. Korra, look, I wouldn't worry too much about Tahno. He's a little self-centered—okay, so he's a lot self-centered—and he's a total playboy, but he's really not a bad boss. He's a good leader under all those layers of sleaze."
"Asami, the guy plays with fancy water all day. And he's a total sexist flirt—totally unprofessional with those undergrad girls who always visit—and don't even try to argue."
"I won't."
"I mean, if I wanted to see douchebags try to pick up girls over a countertop, I'd go to a bar—but I don't. And you know why? Because I'm at a coffee shop. I go to a coffee shop because I want coffee, because I want to visit my roommate while she servescoffee, because I want to drink my coffee without anyone commenting about my supposed level of adventurousness when he has no fucking cluethe extent to which I am fucking adventurous, and especially not based on what meager evidence he can dig up solely based on my fucking taste in coffee."
"Oh... kay, Korra, I think—wait. Don't you drink caffe mochas?"
"That is beside the point."
"Right. I think... I think I got it."
"Got what? Oh. Oh—Asami, no. Oh, no, please no—stop, Asami, seriously! Stop it! I can see it your goddamn green eyes! Don't you dare get any of those crazy ideas of yours, where you try to hook me up with your really fucked-up, weird-ass connections. You already tried that with Mako and look how well that turned out. Remember? Remember?Because I sure as hell try every day to fucking forget and I—"
But Asami only laughed. "Oh my god, don't worry," she shushed her, swatting her roommate's shoulder with a gentle slap.
"Asami, please. I do not need this right now! I just want to be able to order my caffe mocha in peace. Those Whack-job Losers are already down my throat enough as it is with my prelim evaluations and—"
"Korra. Don't worry.I'll keep my nose clean, I promise."
"Really?" she huffed, rolling her eyes. "Yeah. Okay. Right."
.
.
.
"No, really, Korra. I swear.
I wouldn't dream of it."
.
.
.
