(A/N): First of all, before anyone asks, yes, this is extremely self indulgent. Second off, I mostly wrote this to somewhat explore Lindsay and Chris' dynamic. Also, I would also like to say that I might continue this? Probably not, but we'll see if anyone's interested at all.

—

"Unbelievable," Chris grumbled under his breath, tossing the still warm latte into the nearest trash can, "How hard could it possibly be to get my order right? I even wrote it down for them!" he ranted to no one in particular. That was the fifth time, within two weeks, that someone had gotten his order wrong. Could you really blame him for getting frustrated?

Chef couldn't help but roll his eyes at the TV host, briefly recalling the memory of Chris barking out his order, while the intern frantically wrote it out on a piece of paper, "If you're really that upset about the whole thing, why don't you just get your own fancy shmancy drink?" he proposed, meeting Chris' bewildered stare.

"Get… my own… latte?"

It was as if the thought hadn't even crossed his mind—which it hadn't. Why would he bother with such a trivial thing when he had better things to do, like literally anything else?

Chef nodded, "There's a coffee place nearby," he gestured towards the exit of the building, "So it's not like you'll be walking far."

Chris hummed, resting his chin in the palm of his hand as he thought over his options. He'd lose the joys of firing any intern who messed up his order, but he'd also finally get his coffee just the way he liked it. Making people suffer, or his own wants and needs…

Wait, why was this even a dilemma?

"You know what? I think I will get my own coffee from now on," he crossed his arms and grinned, a satisfied look on his face, "Man, I can't believe I didn't think of that sooner."

Chef sighed heavily, shaking his head in mild annoyance as he watched Chris head out of the building. It was times like these, some small part of him missed being in the Army.

—

It was a cozy little building with a chalkboard sign sitting just outside the door, listing off the day's specials in different colors. Several plants were intricately placed on the windowsill, causing a sense of unease to settle in Chris' stomach. Anything that looked that cheerful must have something wrong with it, if he was going off of his prime example (himself).

Nevertheless, he still needed his coffee, and the only way he'd get it is through that door. Letting out a long sigh, he entered the building, causing a faint ding to fill the quiet room.

"Hello!" a cheerful blond greeted him from behind the counter, "Welcome to…" she seemed to trail off, gaze shifting down as she tapped her chin in thought, muttering quietly to herself.

Chris raised an eyebrow, the faintest of smirks pulling at his face. Did she... forget the name of the café?

"Um… hm… welcome to…" she squinted at her surroundings, gaze searching for where she might find an answer. After a minute, she smiled, eyes going wide, "Oh! Welcome to Brew-ti-ful Coffee and Bakery!" she grinned, meeting Chris' stare, "What can I get you today?"

His eyes skimmed over the baked goods on display, unable to keep the smirk off his face, "Looks like the pastries aren't the only thing here that's brew-ti-ful," he hummed, giving the barista a quick once over as he leaned against the counter.

"Well, duh," she crossed her arms, still smiling, "The coffee is too! That's why it's part of the name."

A small, almost breathless, laugh escaped Chris before he had the chance to stop it, "Well, nothing gets by you, now does it?" he turned his focus to the menu, absentmindedly drumming his fingers on the counter. There were so many options to choose from, and so little time to pick. He did still have a show to host, after all.

And yet, some part of him felt the need to take his time. The world did revolve around him, all things considered.

"What would you recommend, Lindsay?"

She gasped, "How did you know my name?" she asked, an excited glint in her eyes, "Are you, like, psychic or something? Oh, oh! Can you read minds?" she frantically asked, bouncing up and down at the thought, "What number am I thinking of?"

There was a shift in his stomach and, once again, a laugh broke out of him, "Actually…" he admitted, gesturing to the tag on her apron, "I just read your name tag."

Her face fell into confused disappointment, "So, you're not psychic?"

"I'm not, but I think you might be," Chris was still smiling, still bidding time, still ignoring the feeling that had settled in his chest, "You spend so much time in my mind, I should charge you rent."

Lindsay tilted her head to the side, "Do I? How much do you need?" her voice seemed to grow quiet as she spoke, digging through her wallet, "I mean, I've only got a little money, cause Heather used most of it to buy her lunch, but—"

Without hesitating, Chris quickly interrupted her, listing off his order at record speed, in an attempt to drop the previous remark before it got too out of hand. Lindsay carefully pinned it into the register, nodding her head to show she was listening, her wallet having been placed back in her pocket.

"What's the name?" she asked, sharpie and cup in hand, staring at him expectantly.

Despite himself, Chris let a beat of silence pass between them as he glanced around the very empty building before turning back to Lindsay, "Chris."

She hummed, writing down the name, then turning to work on the order. Chris watched as she briefly struggled with getting the drink put together, knocking over various items in an attempt to get what she needed.

"This your first day?" he couldn't help but ask, trying to bite back the amusement in his voice.

"Nope!" Lindsay replied cheerfully, "I've been working here since summer break started."

"Really?" he blinked in surprise. She had been working here for almost four weeks and she still had trouble remembering the name of the place?

"Yep!" she turned towards him, holding out the paper cup, "Here you go!"

He took the drink carefully, "Right, well, it was nice talking with you."

Chris nearly froze at the statement, but tried not to let his shock show on his face, waving goodbye as he left. He never liked talking to anyone, save for a very select few.

"Bye! Come again, soon!" Lindsay called after him, returning his wave as the door's bell chimed once again to indicate Chris' departure.

It felt funny, the whole thing. He was sure Chef would get a laugh out of it, at the very least. A sigh escaped him as he looked down at the drink, hesitant to even try it, with how much of a mess she made putting it together. Though, all that hesitation seemed to vanish when the name she had written on the cup caught his attention.

Chip.

"Huh…" he smiled gently, taking a drink as he started his walk back to his studio. Almost surprisingly, she actually got his order right. Definitely surprisingly, he silently decided he'd go back there again.