Chapter Text
A 30 minute drive later, the two brothers end up in front of a cozy looking shop tucked away on a quiet street. The facade looked well maintained, the blinds were drawn so you could see inside, and as far as Damian could tell, the cats looked happy and comfortable. There were a couple of customers having their afternoon tea with some feline companions. The staff were busying about doing a bit of cleaning while chatting. Looking pretty good so far, Tim thinks to himself, think I might actually get some valuable productivity here. He turns to look at Damian to see what he thinks. His younger brother is standing next to him in a white short-sleeved button down, green sweater vest and jeans. Holding a contemplative look on his face, he hums and starts pushing the door of the cafe open.
A bell attached to the door jingles and everyone (and every cat) looks up to see who’s here. A cheerful girl in a brown apron beckons them to the counter. “Welcome!” She beams, pushing the black hair tied in a low ponytail over her shoulder, “Is this your first time at Catffeine Corner?” Damian nods as they shuffle towards the front counter where there were laminated menus, multiple photos and descriptions of cats, and what looks to be… a jail portrait of a particular grey tabby?
“My name is Heather,” She introduces herself, “Here at Catffeine Corner we have cats and caffeine! The first hour here is $30 and subsequent hours are $15 per hour. It comes with a complementary drink, but feel free to take a look at our menu if you are particularly peckish or not sufficiently caffeinated.”
“Let me introduce you to our cats,” The laminated sheet gets pushed closer towards the boys, “We have about 8 cats here, most of them are friendly, and all of them are up for adoption should anyone really connect with any of the cats. You can bring this sheet with you to your table for quick identification for any kitty that you spot.”
“There is only one cat to look out for when interacting with the cats, and it is this one here,” Heather points to the image of a bi-colour ragdoll cat, who has grey fur covering her forehead and cheeks while her nosebridge, mouth, and chin were snow white. She had pointed dark ears, a mostly white body with some dustings of grey on her back, and a very fluffy dark grey tail. “This is Squall, she will tolerate you from a distance and that is the best you can get. She will not be aggressive from the get go, but please note that if you try to touch her she may lash out. It would be wise to enjoy her presence from afar for your own safety, beautiful as she is.”
Damian and Tim nodded, understanding her warning. Tim did think it was strange that they would foster a cat that was notoriously not great with human interaction in a cafe where humans will interact with them. He can’t help but be curious about it though, and wonders what’s the story with Squall, maybe he could ask one of the staff later on. Or overhear someone asking. Whichever of the two happens first.
“Oh! One other thing, if you have ordered food and want to wander around to look around, please finish your food and hand us your empty plates first. Our grey tabby who we have affectionately named Trashcan, can and will jump up onto your table and steal your food. They are being fed 2 meals a day and you can buy small treats to feed them with so honestly he has no business stealing from our paying customers but he has a greed that they only speak about in the bible. Unfortunately we are not able to refund you if he spots your moment of weakness. You have been warned.”
“Anyways!”, Heather beams, “What would you two like to drink? We have coffee and tea, both available hot or iced, and canned drinks.”
Tim scans the drink menu, deep in thought. A coffee, definitely, and he’s leaning towards a sweet coffee since he does quite prefer his coffee not so bitter, but he is here to see if the coffee is good so maybe he should try it unsweetened? Urgh, he mentally groans, I’m so not in the mood for just a coffee though. I want something sweet. I need something sweet. If I don't have sugar coursing through my veins I don’t know how I’ll get through to patrol alive. He glances at Damian, who is also staring at the menu, and asks, “Are you going to get a normal latte?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll get a vanilla latte and I can try a bit of yours.”
“Aren’t you also getting a coffee? What do you need to steal a sip of mine for?”
“Do you want me to tell you if the coffee’s good or not?”
The two boys lock into a staring contest at the counter. Heather is smiling awkwardly and looking back and forth between them. After 10 seconds of silence, Damian lets up. “Fine,” he groans. “We will have a hot latte and an iced vanilla latte.”
“Aww, you remember that I like my coffee iced?”
“Shut up Drake. You only drink iced drinks, which is beyond me by the way because wouldn’t the coffee get diluted? You might as well drink the water that Alfred uses to wash beans.”
“It’s all about the first 5 sips, you demented preschooler. Not everybody enjoys the taste of hot water. Some drinks taste better cold.”
“What are you even talking about? Hot water just tastes like water. Did you drink a cup of Joker’s acid and fuck up your tongue? I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to ask you to evaluate the quality of the coffee here.”
A clap snaps them out of their little argument and they both turn to see Heather who is now smiling awkwardly. “Okay! I’ve put your drink orders through, so let’s find you a nice seat shall we?”
Damian and Tim find a seat near the wall of the cafe, where there were planks and cat hides littered along it. Two cats were settled along the planks, who Tim could identify as a calico called Sol and an orange cat called Orbie, napping lazily. Curled up on a bed that is suctioned onto the glass window of the cafe was a brown devon rex called Popcorn. Damian watches as a siamese cat that he identifies as Socks jumps up and also tries to squeeze in onto the window bed with Popcorn, much to her dismay. Heather snaps both boys out of the cat watching when she comes over with their drinks. “Iced vanilla latte for you,” she slides a glass cup towards Tim, “and a hot latte for you.” She places a ceramic cup in front of Damian. “Enjoy! Let us know if you require any assistance or if you would like to order anything else! Please bring this card to the front counter for payment when you leave,” she puts down a little card with a number on their table and walks off to try and pacify Popcorn who was now actively growling at poor Socks.
Tim stirs his coffee and hums, taking a sip while Damian stares on. “And? What is the verdict.” He asks. Tim tilts his head but smiles nonetheless. “Pretty good. But let me try yours first. Sugar makes everything good so it’s hard to give a good judgement.”
“I would argue against sugar elevating taste, but trying to understand your taste buds is an impossible task,” He slides his cup over and Tim picks it up to take a careful sip.
“Mmm… pretty good. I would rate it “this is a cafe I would come by just to get coffee if it was on the way” out of ten. Is this evaluation to your satisfaction, your highness?”
“It will suffice, servant,” Damian waves his hand dismissively, making Tim snicker. Tim scans the cafe again, trying to spot the other 4 cats they have yet to see, but when he comes up with nothing he decides to pull out his tablet to get started on work again. Damian frowns at the sight of the tablet. “What is that. Did I not say that we will be taking a break? Do I have to force you into a break, Drake?”
Tim smiles sheepishly, “Um, well I still have an essay to write after all, and an ongoing case. The headache is gone though, I swear!” Damian squints at him disapprovingly. “I do not wish to sit here and berate you for your self-destructive choices. I will go and observe the felines.” He stands up to get closer looks at the cats. Sol and Orbie are still stretched out along the wall planks, Damian is not tall enough to get a proper look at them, considering they were quite near the ceiling. In one of the hides along the wall that was attached to a cat scratching tower, Damian spots the pure black void of a cat (or more like, the pure black void stares back at him with yellow eyes) who is quite amusingly called Batman.
They hold a staring contest for a couple minutes before he reaches out a closed hand to introduce himself to the cat. Batman stretches out to sniff before he looks at Damian again, before rubbing his face on Damian’s fingers. After a couple of scratches, Damian moves on to find his next cat. Popcorn is still successfully secured in her window seat, Damian reaches a hand out for her to sniff before giving her a couple of pets that she purrs and arches into. Socks is sulking on a cat bed nearby, and Damian gives him some love too. Trashcan can be seen loitering around the tables, on a keen lookout for any vulnerable tables.
A pure white munchkin was leisurely strolling around the floor, Damian identifies him as Cloud. He starts rubbing up on customer legs, seeking pets and love. Seven out of eight cats, Damian thinks. He has yet to spot Squall. Admittedly, he’s quite curious to see just how much the ragdoll hates people. He finally spots her in a cat hide that’s quite high up on the wall, overseeing the front counter and entrance. He looks up at it, and she stares back down, her fluffy tail curled around her flicking in annoyance. From position and body language alone, Damian knows this is a cat who definitely isn’t interested in interaction.
He turns away, choosing to do a sweeping look at the cafe from his spot. Heather is busy making a couple of coffees with the coffee machine, from behind a curtain he can spot another person walking about with a broom. The rest of the cafe area is relatively clean, with many spots for both guests and cats to sit apart from the tables. He is satisfied with the level of upkeep of this place, the cats look comfortable and happy, and the staff are diligent in their work. It is a good place to bring Jon here to spend time with some cats.
Damian makes his way back to his seat, where Tim is sat hunched over his tablet, face scrunched into a frown. He flicks Tim’s forehead before scoffing, “Sit up straight fool.” Tim yelps at the sudden pain before glaring at Damian. He sighs and sits up in his chair nonetheless, picking up his coffee for a drink. “How was your inspection? Up to par? Do you think Jon will like it here? Any favourite cats?”
“It is acceptable. I think Jon will be pleased. I have no opinions of the cat so far, but I am most amused at the one called ‘Batman’.”
“Of course you are, nerd.”
“I don’t see what is nerdy at the thought of a cat with the same likeness and name as our father.”
“Batman fanboy,” Tim mumbles, muffled because he was speaking into his cup.
“Like you can talk, Drake!”