Work Text:
Molly Chandler was proud of her struggling little coffee shop in Adelaide, Australia.
Her girlfriend Jackie had won the startup money by counting cards at poker. It wasn’t even cheating. Molly felt a little bad about it, but honestly, she suspected people in this world didn’t possess even a basic primary school understanding of maths.
They were willing to pay five dollars for a donut.
A donut.
A pastry made from some of the cheapest staples on the planet. Sure, some of them were mint or lavender glazed, but Molly grew both of those on pots on the roof.
Honestly, she called it a coffee shop, but the deep fryer was carrying the whole business. Jackie had taken to offering bicycle delivery service for the surrounding college campus, which— so long as she kept the radius small— was another solid, mathematically sound choice.
Thank science.
Molly was pushing through the afternoon rush of three whole customers when a hand slipped around her waist and a quick kiss landed against the nape of her neck.
“Jackie!”
“What?” Jackie grinned. “Can’t I kiss my best girl?”
“Shush. You know this machine hates me.”
“Mocha?”
“Iced. It’s November and twenty degrees outside.”
“Don’t I know it.”
Jackie’s skin still sparkled with sweat from biking through the summer heat. She leaned over the counter, her chipped pink, purple, and blue nails tapping through the POS system to check outstanding orders.
For a little while they moved around the tiny shop in perfect rhythm, bodies brushing past each other as they anticipated each other’s movements with near psychic familiarity. The espresso machine hissed. The fryer crackled. The air smelled like coffee grounds, sugar, and warm dough.
When the last takeaway cup hit the counter, Molly noticed the hesitation.
“So.” Jackie leaned against the counter. “Weird thing happened on my last delivery.”
“Oh?”
“Dropped an order at the flower shop on O’Connell Street. Lady comes out, hands full of roses, looks me dead in the eyes, and drops the whole lot.”
Molly frowned.
“Total mess. Petals everywhere. Bouquet ruined. I go to help and she just— ran.”
“Ran?”
“Like I had a disease or something.”
The joking tone had faded.
“You think she recognized you?” Molly asked quietly.
Jackie looked away.
“I don’t know how. But I don’t like it.”
The afternoon sunlight spilled through the front windows, turning the dust in the air gold. Outside, people walked past carrying bags and coffee cups, completely unaware of the little universe inside the shop.
Molly stepped closer.
Her hands found the messy blonde bun Jackie wore when she worked, fingers gently untangling the strands that had escaped and leaned against her chest intimate and supportive.
“We’re safe here, aren’t we?”
Jackie leaned down, used Molly’s favorite pet name, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Of course we are, Chas.”
The arms around Molly tightened as if Jackie thought she could make something true through conviction alone.
“We’re safe. I promise.”