A/N: Writen for the WritersMonth2021 challenge on Tumblr. Options being cold, and/or coffee shop AU. This a human only, no androids AU.
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Connor didn't care much for temperatures. Hot or cold was all relative, and he didn't mind either of those. But when he entered the coffee shop, even he noticed the change in temperature, the moment the door closed behind him.
It was one of those big, luxurious coffee places, with more than a few employees, running around bringing big chocolate mugs, and big, oat-colored cookies, that could easily dent your teeth if you tried to bite them too hard.
He found one empty table and sat down.
His partner at the DPD, Hank, had insisted for him to actually stay there and drink his coffee for once. He had better start taking care of himself, for fucks sake (he had said). Otherwise, in twenty years he (Hank) would be pushing his wheelchair (Connor's wheelchair). And by then, it would look "quite pathetic".
"Tell you what" Hank said, shoving the last of his cigarette in the ashtray "Given that I most likely won't live long enough to push your wheelchair, even if you manage to deteriorate yourself like a very dry raisin, in a rancid cereal box… do me a favor and eat your vegetables, kid." He raised a menacing finger, narrowed eyes unwavering. "Take-your-fucking-time. And at least drink that fucking coffee... And add a sandwich, that's on me."
"I cannot say that I won't take it into account, Lieutenant" Connor responded. "But I daresay that, at the moment, it seems particularly hypocritical of you. You shouldn't even be smoking."
"Bah!" Hank waved a hand, either dismissively, derisively, or to chase away the lingering smell, sending it towards the open window. "What are they gonna do? Kick me out?"
They were in a hospital room, one of them on bed with a hospital gown, the other one with a couple of stitches on the forehead, sitting on a chair.
"Boy, you sure look pale, still. Are you sure they really let you out?"
"Lieutenant, if they hadn't, I wouldn't be able to visit you, or to be here in my normal clothes."
"And since when do you care about when you are allowed to go somewhere, or do something?"
Hank snorted, then coughed a little.
"Lieutenant, I-"
"Stop. You don't need to say anything. You just… do you. And cut it out with the 'Lieutenant'. And... take care of yourself" He mumbled at the end.
Connor let out a small smile, then hid it carefully. "I'll make sure to come pay a visit, Lieutenant."
"Sure, sure, yeah."
Connor grabbed the ashtray from the bed, then wrapped it minutiously on a grey cloth, fastened with velcro. Hank smiled.
"Don't forget to clean that up."
"I won't", Connor replied, getting up from the chair, and going towards the door. "And- just for you to know, I'll come pick you up when they discharge you from the hospital."
"You don't have to do that. You know that, right?"
"I do." Connor waved his hand, before turning the doorknob. "See you later, Hank."
He heard him scoff, and yet he could almost picture him smiling, when he replied "See you later, kid."
But that had been the day before. Now, Connor was restlessly staring through the window, seated at the coffee shop he never had the time to visit. Well, technically he did visit. But only the exterior, to ask for a couple of double expressos, from the window of his car. And that, most of the time, was the most intake of calories he had during the day.
Taking into account that a couple of days ago he had fainted due to lack of sleep, lack of food, constant high-speed pursuits, and the extreme tension of a tangled case, Connor knew that Hank had reasons to be concerned. Although…
Connor kept mulling over, thinking about how Hank had managed to fall from a 2nd floor, and had entered the hospital at around the same time as him. Plus, he wasn't in a very good position to complain about his habits, considering the unhealthy amount of fast food and refrigerated food he ingested on a daily basis.
"May I take your order?"
Casting his thoughts aside, he looked up and saw her for the first time.
A pretty, slender thing, long hair tied on a tall ponytail, that fell to one side, resting on her shoulder. She had clear eyes, and he forced himself to answer, looking right at them. His response was almost entirely automatic, and he heard himself ask for coffee, just coffee.
"Something else?", she asked softly, perhaps noticing something off on his response. "Sandwich."
Now he was certain, she had smiled, but tried to not make it not too noticeable, nodding lightly. Connor felt uncharacteristically stunned, and paralized. "A sandwich."
She nodded again, and Connor had to explain of which kind (he didn't even grab the menu), and then she left.
Connor watched her go, and blinked, slightly shaking his head to snap out of his stupor.
What had happened to him? He didn't have an answer.
But when she came back with the coffee, she smiled at him, and he saw for the first time the tag on her uniform: "Chloe".
Well, when Chloe came back, Connor had almost finished the coffee, too distracted to notice he had been sipping absent-mindedly and now he would need to eat without something to drink.
She noticed it, too.
"Would you like another cup of coffee?" she asked, her eyes gleaming with kindness.
Connor said yes.
He had a lot of things to think about, but, for the time being, he couldn't concentrate. What was it that she had that distracted him so much? Perhaps it was the ponytail. It always moved too much whenever she moved her head.
He stared through the window, and tried to keep his eyes there. But from the corner of his eye, he sometimes catched her figure; and, with the risk of being mistaken, he could swear she sometimes smiled at him, when she passed by his side.
Puzzled, he ate his sandwich, and drank a second cup of coffee, until both the plate and the cup were completely empty.
But then, he started to notice something strange about her behavior. She started to look uncomfortable, and he saw her rubbing her hands together, and moving quickly.
Finally, he saw her slumping her shoulders, a movement almost too subtle for the eye to catch.
But not for Connor's eyes.
Then, he realized. She looked cold. She was cold.
In a moment, he got up his chair and walked, straight towards her. She turned to face him with a start, and stared at him with wide eyes, while he took off his coat. Connor extended his arm, offering it to her. "Please take it."
"Oh, I- I couldn't."
"Please take it", he said again, looking at her with pleading eyes. "It looks like it could be of more use to you."
She wasn't the only one flabbergasted around, but she recovered and nodded, a small smile forming on her lips. "Thank you very much"
Her cheeks were rosy, and Connor guessed she truly, truly must have been cold.
Of course he wouldn't have dared to put the coat on her, so he just left awkwardly, back to his table. He could feel people's stares, but he didn't care. People seemed to find him strange anyway, and he was used to it.
Meanwhile, Chloe put the coat on, and kept zigzagging around the tables, bringing orders.
Connor realized that he had no more reason to remain there. Except, he thought, the coat.
But he would never make her take it off, if she was still to remain there for… who knows how long. Therefore, he stayed put, studying the outside, studying the table, the menu (finally), the decorations, and the colorful teas announced in colorful signs, in a very fancy lettering.
"Sir?"
He turned towards her voice, and found her staring at him with a hint of something, perhaps shyness, that wasn't there before. She was wearing his coat, and looked noticeably bigger on her. It made Connor smile.
"Sir, is there anything else you need?"
He thought about it for a moment. "No, nothing."
"Then, do you want me to bring you the bill?"
He paused, before answering "No, it's fine. I'll stay here for a while."
She hesitated, but nodded, going towards the next table.
A while passed, and she started to notice that he wouldn't be going anytime soon. An idea popped into her head, and she walked in his direction again. "Sir, do forgive me, but is there any chance…"
"Yes?"
"Could you, perhaps… be waiting for your coat?"
Being discovered, Connor could only stare at her wordlessly, while her expression changed to one of great distress, before sighing.
The sight made Connor's heart ache for unknown reasons. "Was it wrong of me to do that?"
"No, no…" She glanced behind her quickly, before returning her gaze to him, muttering "Allow me to bring you the bill, and then we'll settle this, ok?"
That sounded, to Connor's ears, more menacing than what she probably intended, and her eyes softened when she noticed his expression. She went to the employees only area, then came back with the bill.
"There's only one coffee mentioned here", Connor said, scrutinizing the paper.
"Yes."
"But I had two cups of coffee, not one."
"It's on the house."
Now that was… how to put it? Embarrassing.
Connor wasn't used to people inviting him things, much less in such a short acquaintance.
Acquaintance? He thought. She doesn't even know my name.
"My name is Connor."
She smiled, bewildered. "I am Chloe."
There was a pause, Connor staring at the bill, Chloe glancing around with a trace of restlessness. She lowered her voice, saying "Look, Connor, right now I have to work."
"Of course", he replied immediately. Of course he understood, but that didn't mean he could avoid a pang of disappointment. For what reason? He didn't know.
Then Chloe lowered her voice even more: "But I'm about to finish my shift. Would you wait till then?"
He nodded.
"I'll come back for the bill" she said before leaving, and until then Connor noticed that he still hadn't paid. He had this unnatural urge to slap himself, but resisted, while he waited.
Minutes later, the bill was paid, and he reached out to take the coat from Chloe's hands. "Thank you."
"I should be the one saying that."
They left the coffee shop, and, as it turns out, the temperature that had seemed cold on the inside was way worse on the outside. Chloe shivered.
Connor dangled the coat in front of her.
"I couldn't."
"You actually could, and you can. You've already done it."
Chloe smiled sheepishly, taking the coat once again. "Why are you so kind to me?"
"I don't know."
She didn't respond, staring at the snow under their feet. They walked a little, before she asked softly, tightening the coat, "Don't you hate the cold?"
Connor thought about it for a moment.
What was cold, what was warm? It all depended on a comparison of something. Cold could mean snow, and ruddy skin; it could mean third degree burns, and necrosis.
But it could also mean Christmas, and a clear sky; or soft coats, and freezing coffee shops; freezing coffee shops, with a girl freezing on the inside, with pretty, clear eyes, and a gentle smile.
"No", Connor finally answered, turning his head. "I don't hate the cold."
