Chapter Text
"Inej, what on earth does this say?" Jesper asked, leaning over and showing her the plastic coffee cup.
Inej handed the customer at the register her change and turned to see what Jesper was asking about. She took the cup, reading the marker scrawl near the top.
"It clearly says 'cafe mocha'," she said, handing it back.
"You know I can't read cursive," Jesper groused. "And why don't you just write 'chocolate latte', why does the chocolate latte get its own fancy name?"
"I don't know, Jesper," Inej rolled her eyes, taking the cup from him and setting it on the counter.
"I mean think about it; it really makes no sense. A vanilla latte is just a vanilla latte, not a...cafe vanilla?"
"Well, what's the french word for vanilla?" Inej asked, slotting the portafilter basket into the machine and watching the grounds filter down into it. "Maybe it would be a cafe whatever-the-French-word-vanilla-is."
"Well anyway, that's besides the point," Jesper was on a roll and in no mood to stop complaining. "Why is a latte a brevee when you add half and half? It's just a different kind of milk, why change the entire name?"
"Half and half isn't milk, that's kind of the point of half and half," Inej pointed out, pouring the espresso into the cup and moving to the rows of syrups that were by the register. "You're asking me all these things like Google doesn't exist— just look it up."
"Don't be ridiculous, I don't want to educate myself. I just like complaining about things that are objectively ridiculous," he snorted, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms.
"While you're at it, can you get me the milk?"
Jesper walked over to the sandwich bar, opening the fridge underneath it and grabbing the milk. He passed it to Inej along with a small pitcher from on top of the espresso machine. Inej set about steaming the milk while Jesper continued to complain.
He was distracted from his ramblings as a jingling bell sounded throughout the shop.
Inej looked over from where she was handing a customer the latte and her face lit up with a smile as she saw Nina crossing the shop, coming behind the counter. Her hair was braided back into an artfully messy French braid and she wore a faded red flannel over a black t-shirt with ripped jeans. She'd embroidered things all around the jean's pockets, mostly flowers and beetles. An olive green messenger bag was slung over one shoulder.
"I've arrived!" Nina announced grandly, throwing her arms out wide. "I'm not late this time, aren't you proud of me?"
"So proud," Inej nodded.
"So very proud," Jesper echoed, pretending to wipe away a tear. "Our little baker is growing up so fast."
"Have you lot been busy?" Nina asked, walking up to the register and singing into the iPad to clock in.
"Not really," Jesper shrugged.
"Jesper's been busy. Busy complaining," Inej said. "I haven't had a moment of peace all morning."
"Ah, but you enjoy it," Jesper grinned. "You'd get so bored if I wasn't here, admit it."
"I don't know about that," Inej rolled her eyes. "How about you go fetch the dishes from up front, yeah?"
"Yeah Jes, do something useful," Nina called as she sashayed into the kitchen.
Inej replaced the milk in the fridge before following suit.
"Not another order," Wylan groaned as he saw Inej walking toward the counter.
Inej held her hands up, showing that she wasn't holding an order slip. "Nope, breakfast is over now. Just put away your things and you can clock out."
It was Wylan's first week working the breakfast and he was picking up quickly but he dreaded the rushes— as they all did. But the tips were good, at least.
"Thank the Saints," Wylan sighed, untying his apron.
Inej returned to the front when she heard the door again. An elderly woman hobbled up and set a hefty handbag on the counter. She squinted up at the row of chalkboard menus lining the wall above the back counter, then at Inej.
"Are you still serving breakfast?"
"No, sorry," Inej replied with an apologetic smile. "Our breakfast ends at ten-thirty."
"It is ten-thirty," the old woman argued, her wrinkled face twisting into a scowl.
"It's actually ten-forty," Inej said, checking the clock on the iPad screen in front of her.
"You can't just whip something up for me?"
"I'm afraid we can't, our breakfast cook is done with his shift so..." she trailed off. "We're serving lunch now, though."
"Well, I don't want lunch."
"Sorry...?"
The old lady harrumphed loudly before yanking her bag off the counter and stalking out of the shop.
"Lovely little granny there," Nina noted from where she'd been listening in the doorway to the kitchen. "I know you're not supposed to fight old people, but working here has made me want to throw hands at more than one senior citizen."
"Nina!"
"What? They're so rude!"
"I agree with Nina," Wylan muttered, dodging around her to get to the counter. "Do you guys need anything else before I clock out?"
"A kiss maybe," Jesper called from the kitchen.
"I'm so glad there aren't any customers right now," Wylan muttered as he clocked out. "Imagine if that old lady heard that."
"She would have had a stroke," Nina nodded. "And I would have laughed and watched."
"You're psychotic," Inej frowned.
"Maybe," Nina shrugged.