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fandomweekly2024-09-09 08:06 pm
m_findlow) wrote in fandomweekly2024-09-09 08:06 pm
Entry tags:
[#232] LEFT TO BREW (TORCHWOOD)
Theme Prompt: #232 - Coffee shop
Title: Left to brew
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating/Warnings: PG. Post-canon.
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: Jack finds solace in the most commonplace of locations.
Jack let the buzz and grind of the coffee shop whirr around him. It wasn't too loud, but nor was it too quiet. It had just the right amount of activity, everyone coming and going with their paper cups or sitting themselves down with a magazine and a piece of cake, or hunched over a laptop ready to punch out a four thousand word essay, fuelled by caffeine.
He took a tentative sip at the edge of the cup and put it back down, sitting with the taste in his mouth before finally swallowing. ‘Too much hazelnut,’ he said, not to himself but to the person who should have been sitting opposite him. Better than yesterday’s americano with added vanilla syrup, but not by much.
He just stared into the cup, not touching it again, just losing himself in the swirly patterns made in the milky froth on top.
‘I know it’s not great,’ said a slight blonde waitress as she glided past. ‘Swirls is the best I can manage, even though it’s supposed to be a fern leave. I can do a decent love heart, though, but love hearts are out of fashion now, so my boss keeps telling me. Everyone wants trees and leaves. I even had someone come in once and ask for a rose on top of his matcha. A rose, for god's sake! All them petals and everything. Totally bonkers.’ She paused for breath and frowned at him. ‘Sorry, am I talking too much? People are always telling me I talk too much. Bet you just wish I'd pop off and bother someone else so you can enjoy that coffee in peace, eh?’
Jack looked up from the hypnotic froth, blinking and then processing all the rushed words as they melded together. ‘It's fine,’ he replied. ‘And I happen to like the swirls.’
‘Really?’ She sounded mildly surprised. ‘I mean, they are supposed to be ferns but they just go all wibbly wobbly on me, d'you know what I mean?’
He nodded. His life had gone much the same way, all out of kilter into a messy swirl that he didn’t seem to be able to put right. He should have had enough practice by now.
‘You’ve been in here every day for two weeks and every day you’ve ordered something different.’ She gave him a confused frown. ‘You know, there’s a reason why we call regulars “regulars”. You’re supposed to order the same thing, or are you working your way through the menu trying to find the perfect brew? Oh, you’re not one of them mystery shopper lots, are you?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m definitely not looking for perfection. Quite the opposite.’ He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he ever found the perfect cup of coffee. Probably weep for a year. He doubted he could bear experiencing coffee like what he’d become used to in better times. Perhaps that was why he’d gone completely mad, ordering the kinds of strange concocted beverages that he wouldn’t have ever touched previously.
She tilted her head at him. ‘You’re a strange one. And I mean that in the nicest way, like.’
He gave a mirth filled smile. ‘I’ve been called worse.’
‘So, what’s your story then? Not bragging, but I see a lot of folks. You don’t look like the type to hang around drinking coffee all day and reading the papers. You look more like the adventurous, free spirited type.
‘I'm on hiatus,’ he replied.
She slumped into a seat at the closest table to his. ‘Why?’
He shrugged. ‘Why not? Too much adventure isn’t good for you.’ That he could definitely attest to. Three weeks ago he’d been hurtling through space in an unguided escape pod, heading away from a potential love interest whose escape pod, thrown off course by a meteor shower and an overzealous internal computer, had decided to correct course in completely the opposite direction to Jack’s own. Lady luck simply had it in for Jack.
The waitress groaned. ‘You’re kidding right? I’d give up my right arm for a bit of excitement.’
‘Adventure isn't all it's cracked up to be, believe me,’ Jack replied, twirling the cup in his hands, making the caramel coloured swirls spin like a vortex. ‘This all around us is what matters. This is the best kind of place to be.’
Her look was one of complete and utter scepticism. ‘A coffee shop in Hackney?’
He looked up at her with a wistful yearning. Ah, to be so young and innocent. How to explain it? ‘I like being here,’ he confessed. ‘It feels…’ He thought about what to say next, struggling to find the words, instead letting out a long, deep sigh. ‘I lost someone a while back. I spent a long time travelling, trying to move on… But just doing this, sitting in a coffee shop watching the world go by, it's…’
‘Like they're not so far away?’
‘Something like that. Coffee was our thing.’
She untied her apron and tugged it off, dropping it on the chair next to her, like her shift was over. ‘How'd they die?’
Jack cringed at the word and took the cup, throwing the contents back in one go. ‘I might need something stronger than coffee to tell that story.’ He wasn't sure even sodium pentothal could get him talking about that. It had been one of the worst days of his long life. He hadn't thought he'd ever be able to stomach even the smell of coffee ever again, yet after months of travelling the stars, here he was, back on Earth, hanging out in grubby English cafes, feeling more at peace than he had done since leaving.
The waitress threw up her hands. ‘Sorry. Don't mind me. Don't think before I speak. None of my business.’
‘That's okay.’
‘Well, for what it’s worth, I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.’
‘Thanks.’
‘And if you do decide to go adventuring again, call me first.’
Title: Left to brew
Fandom: Torchwood
Rating/Warnings: PG. Post-canon.
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000 words
Summary: Jack finds solace in the most commonplace of locations.
Jack let the buzz and grind of the coffee shop whirr around him. It wasn't too loud, but nor was it too quiet. It had just the right amount of activity, everyone coming and going with their paper cups or sitting themselves down with a magazine and a piece of cake, or hunched over a laptop ready to punch out a four thousand word essay, fuelled by caffeine.
He took a tentative sip at the edge of the cup and put it back down, sitting with the taste in his mouth before finally swallowing. ‘Too much hazelnut,’ he said, not to himself but to the person who should have been sitting opposite him. Better than yesterday’s americano with added vanilla syrup, but not by much.
He just stared into the cup, not touching it again, just losing himself in the swirly patterns made in the milky froth on top.
‘I know it’s not great,’ said a slight blonde waitress as she glided past. ‘Swirls is the best I can manage, even though it’s supposed to be a fern leave. I can do a decent love heart, though, but love hearts are out of fashion now, so my boss keeps telling me. Everyone wants trees and leaves. I even had someone come in once and ask for a rose on top of his matcha. A rose, for god's sake! All them petals and everything. Totally bonkers.’ She paused for breath and frowned at him. ‘Sorry, am I talking too much? People are always telling me I talk too much. Bet you just wish I'd pop off and bother someone else so you can enjoy that coffee in peace, eh?’
Jack looked up from the hypnotic froth, blinking and then processing all the rushed words as they melded together. ‘It's fine,’ he replied. ‘And I happen to like the swirls.’
‘Really?’ She sounded mildly surprised. ‘I mean, they are supposed to be ferns but they just go all wibbly wobbly on me, d'you know what I mean?’
He nodded. His life had gone much the same way, all out of kilter into a messy swirl that he didn’t seem to be able to put right. He should have had enough practice by now.
‘You’ve been in here every day for two weeks and every day you’ve ordered something different.’ She gave him a confused frown. ‘You know, there’s a reason why we call regulars “regulars”. You’re supposed to order the same thing, or are you working your way through the menu trying to find the perfect brew? Oh, you’re not one of them mystery shopper lots, are you?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m definitely not looking for perfection. Quite the opposite.’ He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he ever found the perfect cup of coffee. Probably weep for a year. He doubted he could bear experiencing coffee like what he’d become used to in better times. Perhaps that was why he’d gone completely mad, ordering the kinds of strange concocted beverages that he wouldn’t have ever touched previously.
She tilted her head at him. ‘You’re a strange one. And I mean that in the nicest way, like.’
He gave a mirth filled smile. ‘I’ve been called worse.’
‘So, what’s your story then? Not bragging, but I see a lot of folks. You don’t look like the type to hang around drinking coffee all day and reading the papers. You look more like the adventurous, free spirited type.
‘I'm on hiatus,’ he replied.
She slumped into a seat at the closest table to his. ‘Why?’
He shrugged. ‘Why not? Too much adventure isn’t good for you.’ That he could definitely attest to. Three weeks ago he’d been hurtling through space in an unguided escape pod, heading away from a potential love interest whose escape pod, thrown off course by a meteor shower and an overzealous internal computer, had decided to correct course in completely the opposite direction to Jack’s own. Lady luck simply had it in for Jack.
The waitress groaned. ‘You’re kidding right? I’d give up my right arm for a bit of excitement.’
‘Adventure isn't all it's cracked up to be, believe me,’ Jack replied, twirling the cup in his hands, making the caramel coloured swirls spin like a vortex. ‘This all around us is what matters. This is the best kind of place to be.’
Her look was one of complete and utter scepticism. ‘A coffee shop in Hackney?’
He looked up at her with a wistful yearning. Ah, to be so young and innocent. How to explain it? ‘I like being here,’ he confessed. ‘It feels…’ He thought about what to say next, struggling to find the words, instead letting out a long, deep sigh. ‘I lost someone a while back. I spent a long time travelling, trying to move on… But just doing this, sitting in a coffee shop watching the world go by, it's…’
‘Like they're not so far away?’
‘Something like that. Coffee was our thing.’
She untied her apron and tugged it off, dropping it on the chair next to her, like her shift was over. ‘How'd they die?’
Jack cringed at the word and took the cup, throwing the contents back in one go. ‘I might need something stronger than coffee to tell that story.’ He wasn't sure even sodium pentothal could get him talking about that. It had been one of the worst days of his long life. He hadn't thought he'd ever be able to stomach even the smell of coffee ever again, yet after months of travelling the stars, here he was, back on Earth, hanging out in grubby English cafes, feeling more at peace than he had done since leaving.
The waitress threw up her hands. ‘Sorry. Don't mind me. Don't think before I speak. None of my business.’
‘That's okay.’
‘Well, for what it’s worth, I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.’
‘Thanks.’
‘And if you do decide to go adventuring again, call me first.’
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