Chapter Text
Despite owning a location near the Avengers Tower, your coffee shop isn't the most popular around the city.
The flurry of overexcited people who treat the gigantic tower with its shiny, big A as a tourist spot almost always prefer to walk a long way to the nearest Starbucks rather than stop by the small coffee shop nearby. It was a big trend on every other social media platform to post pictures in these two places when visiting New York, with the most popular pictures depicting people in front of the Avengers Tower with a Starbucks cup in hand, so you were left with locals who enjoyed skipping the long lines instead of the constant stream of foreigners, and who just wanted good coffee for a good price.
And sure, it's awful for your business to lose so many clients to a big franchise, but you can't help but sigh in relief on the days when the shop is almost empty.
Today is one of those days.
You lean your hip against the counter, inhaling the lingering scent of the espresso you made for your last client as you clean up any leftover mess. Working on your own means doing everything on your own, and the last thing you need is for your workplace to be a mess when another client walks in with an urgent need for a cup of coffee. Being organized, you’ve learnt, is the best way to conduct a business.
You’re so distracted that you don’t even hear the door’s bell ringing to indicate the entry of another client before you hear a sweet voice next to you. "Excuse me?"
You blink in surprise, almost knocking over a cup in your haste to turn around toward the unknown voice. "Sorry, I'm sorry." You wince, not knowing exactly what you're apologizing for, and finally stare at your client.
You don't think you were ready to see someone this beautiful in front of you.
She's somehow familiar, though you can't pinpoint exactly where you might know her face from. The tall brunette smiles gently at you, gaze wandering behind you to the menu on the wall while a hand caresses a bruised cheek absentmindedly, scratching the edge of a worn-off band-aid. "I would like an iced coffee. Make it strong, please." You settle for work as soon as she orders, moving toward the cabinets behind you.
"To take away?" You ask, pausing your hand near the cups as you glance at the brunette.
You find her already staring at you, something akin to interest in her deep eyes. She glances at the empty place upon hearing your question, humming thoughtfully. You hear the sound of a notification going off on her phone, then another.
She ignores it.
"I'll drink it here." She decides after a minute, as if it wasn't her first plan to do so, before walking closer to the spot where you're preparing her drink, watching the process with curiosity. "Do you work here often?"
You want to laugh at the question. So far, you've heard it at least once a week from male clients who came over sometimes, eager to find out when they could see you again. Mostly, you liked to think you were good at dodging flirtatious questions while also making them want to return for more coffee, tiptoeing the line between friendly and professional.
You're not sure if her question is flirty, though.
You would like to think it is.
"Every day." You answer truthfully, unlike how you did every other time. You want this stranger to know she can find you here anytime, in hopes that she will return one day. It’s a weird feeling, considering you’ve known her for mere minutes. "I own the place."
The brunette's eyebrows arch in surprise, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She ignores another message on her phone, swiftly silencing it before pocketing it once again. "Well, it's a nice spot you've got here."
"Thank you." You attempt to focus on making the coffee, hoping it would be good enough to bring such a beautiful face to your shop more often, but it's hard to do so when she keeps watching you so closely.
The woman hums, keeping her eyes glued to your form as you prepare her drink. "I didn't know there was a coffee shop so close to the T-" She pauses as if catching herself before saying something she shouldn't, clearing her throat as if it would help her swallow her words. You find her eyebrows furrowed when you turn to glance at her, something like a grimace curling her lips, and as if by habit, she scratches the bandaid on her cheek again. "Uhm, to my apartment."
"Yeah, we're a small business." You answer, ignoring the weird pause. After years of working with people in New York, you found it was better to ignore the weirdness instead of questioning it. "Most people prefer to get Starbucks."
The woman frowns as if scandalized by the idea. "I don't know why. Their coffee is so bland." You smile, pouring her coffee into a cup. A woman after your own heart, too, it seems.
"I agree." You breathe out, smiling when you hand her the cup. The brunette's fingertips brush your knuckles when she reaches to take it from you. It almost looks like she lingers there, gazing at you.
She smiles, taking you by surprise when she makes herself comfortable on one of the stools near the counter instead of sitting by the windows at one of the tables. It looks like she hesitates for a second, her hand curling around the cup before she lets out a breath she was holding. "I'm Kate, by the way."
Kate.
You let the name intoxicate you, deciding it was very fitting for a pretty woman like her.
Kate waits for your reaction with a nervous expression on her face, as if expecting a reaction from you. "It's nice to meet you, Kate." You think you see her sighing in relief when you offer none. "I'm Y/n."
Kate nods her head in acknowledgment. The brunette looks out the window distractedly, bringing the cup to her mouth. The second the coffee touches her tongue, Kate lets out a small moan of delight.
You turn to clean the counter, hoping that she hadn't seen the soft blush on your cheeks upon hearing the sound. Kate continues to sip her coffee. You're sure you feel her eyes on you the whole time before she interrupts the silence by blurting out another question. "Have you lived around here for a long time?"
It's a personal question that you otherwise wouldn't answer. You find that you don't care if Kate asks it. There’s just something that makes it so easy to speak to her, to share more about your personal life than you probably should with a complete stranger. "My whole life." You reply earnestly, leaning your hip on the counter behind you to look at her. "What about you? I haven't seen you around before."
The hesitation returns, and Kate's lips part as if she isn't sure what to say. "I'm a bit of a coffee addict, so I was trying to find a good place close to my, uhm, new apartment."
You let the implications about her house slip again.
Maybe Kate is homeless?
No, you're pretty sure a homeless person wouldn't be wearing designer clothing.
"Well, I sure hope you like the place." You answer, smiling at the beautiful stranger.
Kate's eyes find yours, something akin to amusement in them. Her lips curl in a grin, and she watches you for longer than necessary. "I think I like the place quite a lot."
There's something charged about the sentence. You're almost sure that Kate isn't talking about the place.
You're almost sure Kate is flirting with you.
You don't let the thought linger.
When Kate finishes her coffee, she asks for another one to take away. She watches you while you make it, seemingly lost in her head. You choose to enjoy the feeling of her eyes on you, ignoring the itching feeling that you should recognize her face from somewhere, that you’ve seen her before.
When Kate pays for her order, she leaves a big tip for you. The brunette waves goodbye, almost knocking her head on the door as she makes her way out.
She moves in the direction of the Avengers Tower. You think of any apartment buildings on that path, trying to guess if Kate lived somewhere close to the coffee shop.
You remain unaware of ever having served an Avenger, even as a new client walks in to distract you from the thoughts about the pretty brunette, dragging your attention back to work.
When Kate Bishop makes her way into the Avengers' main living room with a delighted smile on her lips and a half-drunk iced coffee in her hand, Yelena Belova meets her with a deadly glare.
The once-assassin scowls, ready to start an argument with the brunette she seemed to dislike so much. However, Yelena's words faltered when she caught sight of the archer's expression.
She knew what it meant. Kate Bishop was awfully easy to read, especially for someone trained to do so. The blissful grin, wondering eyes, and the little pep in her step could only mean one thing, because Kate Bishop was also awfully obvious when she had a crush.
"Hey, Lena." The Russian ignored the nickname, schooling her expression into one of indifference. Kate smiled at her, happily chugging down the rest of her caffeine as she approached the blonde. "Waiting for me?"
Yelena chose to ignore the amused tone of her voice. It's easier to disregard the fact that she was, indeed, waiting for Kate Bishop to come home, if only because she had been out for hours and hadn’t bothered to tell anyone where she was running off to. "Of course not." Yelena scoffed, watching as Kate left her empty cup on the table. "I’m only here because Natasha asked me to check if you finished your report."
Natasha didn't ask her to do anything.
But Yelena is all too aware that Kate Bishop won't be brave enough to question the Black Widow if she did ask for something.
Finally, being Natasha's baby sister has its perks.
The brunette's eyes widen, seemingly only now remembering the report she should've gotten done yesterday. Kate turned toward the door, bolting outside hurriedly with a half-decent goodbye sent over her shoulder.
Yelena's eyes found the cup once she was gone.
The blonde approached it, grabbing it with one hand and turning it around. On one side, she found the logo and a name that indicated the place where Kate had disappeared for over an hour.
"Coffee shop." Yelena drawled, humming thoughtfully.
The blonde dumped the cup in the trash.
She didn't dare think about what Kate was interested in at the Coffee Shop.