Chapter Text
Waking up early was something inevitable in Mahmuda's daily life. No matter what she did, no matter when she fell asleep, she would always wake up a few minutes before seven AM. She was used to it though, despite how annoying it was to have the sun burn into her eyes every morning. She enjoyed the faint birdsong past her windows and the way the rising sunset glowed orange light into her room. She yawned, jaw gaping wide, and stretched out her sore arms as best she could without breaking a bone. Just one step at a time, like usual, as she got out of her warm bed and readied herself for the day ahead.
Pulling on a warm outfit to face the cool autumn wind, she realized how many of her clothes were stuck in the washing machine (because of the lack of clothing in her closet). She went over to the dryer and pried it open, looking through the stew of wrinkly clothing. She threw her hand in and hoped for the best, grabbing onto the first thing that fell between her fingers. She pulled something out and blinked at the unfamiliar black, strapless bra in her hands. Cautiously dipping her hand back into the dryer, Mahmuda pulled out a contrastingly very familiar black top, wrist warmers and white flared pants.
Polnareff had forgotten nearly an entire outfit in Avdol's home, and Mahmuda realized with a jolt that Jeanne had also stolen a few of her clothes. Shit. How was she supposed to give back the clothes to Jeanne without causing an embarrassing scene in the coffee shop? She didn't know Jeanne's address, so she couldn't just mail the clothes… plus, she had to ask for her own clothes back!
She sighed. No, everything would be alright. Jeanne would notice that some of her clothes were missing, and then she would come by the shop with Avdol's clothes in hand. They would exchange outfits and go by their day like normal. Nothing weird, just two friends who accidentally switched clothes. Nothing romantic happened between them last night, so why would anyone think the opposite? This was between Jeanne and Mahmuda: why should they care if someone thought they did something sexual?
Gah, Avdol was just overthinking it like usual. It was just clothes, friends forgot clothes at their friends' houses all the time! Shirts, pants, bras… well, maybe not bras.
Mahmuda found a small bag and folded Jeanne's clothes into it. Whenever Polnareff would decide to swing by, Avdol would have her clothes ready.
…
"Ah, Miss Avdol?"
Mahmuda turned her head, only to see Kakyoin pulling off her sunglasses, her twin scars slashing over her eyelids. The barista cleared her throat as she sat on a stool behind the counter of the coffee shop.
"Yes, Kakyoin? What is it? You look worried."
"I should apologize for not helping close the shop yesterday." She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck, "I was just so busy with schoolwork, I had to finish this art project…"
"No, there's no need to apologize for being responsible and organized! You know that I've been dealing with this shop for years alone before you came around: I can close shop without you." Avdol reassured, gently putting a hand over Noriaki's shoulder. "I had company anyway, if you were worried about that."
"Really? During such rainy weather? Who?" Kakyoing asked, looking very intrigued. Avdol suddenly felt a bit cornered, her hand on Noriaki's shoulder tensing.
"Just one of the regulars. She got caught in the rain, so I let her into the shop to dry off." Mahmuda replied stoically.
"Was it the one with the pillar-hair who flirted with you when you two first met?"
"Uh-" How did Kakyoin remember that? Shit, has she been eavesdropping on Mahmuda's conversation? The barista's eyes shone a bright purple in realization. A smirk spread across her face.
"It was, wasn't it? Oh, Tori owes me so much money-"
"I'm sorry?"
"You two are dating, aren't you?"
Mahmuda reddened and nearly tripped over a chair.
"W-wha- what? Dating? Me, and Jeanne?" She collected herself, pushing her hair back with her pale bandana. "No, Kakyoin, that is none of your business. She and I are simply friends. I didn't want her to get sick in the rain, so I let her in. How is that romantic?" Avdol argued, crossing her arms firmly to keep up an image of confidence. Noriaki's perceptive eyes dipped behind Avdol to one of the rooms behind the counter. Inside, a paper bag sat atop a round table where Jeanne's clean clothes were neatly folded.
"So… you wouldn't mind letting me see what's in the bag over there?"
Mahmuda blushed visibly enough for Kakyoin to laugh a bit. How could such a nice seventeen year-old be such a damn pain in the ass?
"I'm just teasing!" The young barista waved her hands while she laughed at how flustered her manager had gotten. "I wonder if Polnareff will blush as much if I tell her the same thing… I've been meaning to get back at her for her comment about me being a stereotypical trans barista."
Would Jeanne blush at the idea of dating Mahmuda? That idea made small butterflies flutter in Avdol's heart. She mostly ignored Noriaki's last comment, since Jeanne usually made jokes like that. Of course, she never meant it in a rude way, she just blurted things out without thinking too much about them. Sometimes it gave Mahmuda fresh perspectives on things, other times it was just Jeanne spewing random bullshit or randomly singing the newest pop hits.
"Embarass her if you want to, just keep giving out drinks and managing the cash register," Avdol finally sighed. "I might help out a bit, so no silly business."
There was a small, mischievous smirk on Kakyoin's freckled face. Mahmuda returned it with a smile she struggled to hold back. She couldn't lie, the prospect of seeing Jeanne all red and stammering tempted her.
"Well… As long as you do your job, maybe a bit of silly business can be tolerated." The manager allowed after a moment of hesitation, rolling her eyes.
"Great! Thank you, Miss Avdol. You won't regret this," Kakyoin pumped her fist momentarily in the air before throwing on her work apron, her sunglasses shining as she put them over her sensitive and scarred eyes. "I'll get right to work, with only minor tomfoolery."
Avdol couldn't help but chuckle, pulling on an apron as well to join in Kakyoin with the work.
Many customers swung by, mostly regulars like Josephine and Jotaro (or 'Tori', though only Kakyoin was able to call her that without getting pummeled). Eleven AM was slowly creeping nearer, and Mahmuda felt her stomach starting to grumble. Had she forgotten to eat breakfast? She was usually very punctual with her meals, always eating around specific times to make sure that she wouldn't get hungry at bad moments (like between lunch and dinner, because then her appetite for dinner would get ruined!). Sometimes she wondered if she should start selling food with the drinks, and if that would attract more customers. Maybe it would even get Polnareff to stay for longer, though she was a fast eater and would probably finish her drink and meal in less than five minutes. Avdol was surprised that someone could eat so much food. Yesterday, Jeanne had nearly annihilated all of Mahmuda's chicken and rice, leaving barely a portion left. Avdol hypothesized that she probably worked out and needed all the protein, because when Jeanne was just in that towel, Mahmuda had to force her eyes away from the Frenchwoman's large biceps and powerful legs. It had been strange to see Polnareff with her white hair down, but it wasn't a bad sight. She had been quite beautiful wearing Mahmuda's large hoodie.
Though this was just Avdol appreciating her friend, of course, the way someone would stare at the moon or smile when they heard a song they particularly enjoyed. Most of her friends were simply regulars at her shop, and she hadn't formed many powerful bonds. Sure, she knew the neighbouring shop owners, but they were just acquaintances. It was only Josephine who truly knew Avdol, and perhaps now even Kakyoin over the many months of them working side-by-side. But Jeanne… Avdol hoped to develop a strong friendship with her, because she was maybe a bit lonely (though she ignored that by overworking herself) and since Polnareff just had such an easy way of pulling her in.
Avdol blinked awake when the door to the shop opened, the small bell jingling like it usually would. Mahmuda rubbed her eyes quickly, straightening her posture as Polnareff walked closer to the counter.
"Good morning! Can I get my usual, Avi?" Jeanne propped her chin on her two hands, her elbows pressed on the counter. She fluttered her eyelashes with a charismatic smile. She wore a pretty blue coat that she pulled off, revealing a signature tank top (though it was a bright orange instead of black) and a pair of flared jeans.
"Avi?" Avdol questioned with a snort, turning her back to Polnareff to get to work on the order. By 'the usual', Jeanne meant a strawberry white-chocolate coffee drink (without matcha, since after a few times of drinking it Polnareff gagged and said it was too 'grassy') with extra caramel syrup. Polnareff had an obvious sweet tooth, and who was Mahmuda to deny her wishes?
"Your new nickname," Jeanne hummed proudly, tilting her head to the side, "Is it good?"
Mahmuda considered it for a moment, humming in thought.
"It's definitely… new." She finally replied, stirring Jeanne's drink in a tall, blue mug. Polnareff huffed at Avdol's response, pouting a bit.
"Yes, but do you like it? If not… I can give you another one." Polnareff's glowing grin worried Mahmuda.
"I don't need a nickname," She assured. "I'm just Mahmuda Avdol."
"Mahmuda Avdol…" Polnareff repeated, her eyes stuck to the ceiling as she thought up another nickname for her friend. "Mahmu? Mumu? Uda? No, that sounds like udder. Avdol… Av-dol. Avvvvvvv-doooooool. Ava? You don't look like an Ava." Jeanne grumbled in frustration, shoving her face in her hands. Then, she gasped and Avdol worried she got hurt and spun around to face Jeanne instantly, instead greeted by a horribly excited smile.
"Doll!" Polnareff exclaimed excitedly.
"Where?" Kakyoin yelped suddenly, her sunglasses nearly falling off as she spun around in all directions, already sweating in fear. Avdol kind of forgot Noriaki was there and was surprised to hear her scream.
"Calm down, there aren't any dolls in the shop." Mahmuda quickly reassured, knowing that Kakyoin was, for some unknown reason, deathly terrified of puppets and dolls, though only the realistic, 'uncanny valley' human ones.
"That's it, your new nickname is Doll." Jeanne announced. "Waddya think, Doll?"
"I think that you should just call me Mahmuda." Avdol cleared her throat, glad that her back was to Jeanne, her horribly blushing face hidden from view. "And isn't 'doll' degrading?"
"But it shouldn't be, 'cause you're as pretty as a doll! You're always just so per- SUCH A PERFECTIONIST! You're always just such a perfectionist! Like a doll-maker!" Jeanne stammered, her fingers clutching the counter tensely. She looked like she wanted to throw herself into a freshly dug grave. It was a bit funny that Jeanne was easily able to call Avdol pretty, but saying Mahmuda was 'perfect' was what made Polnareff get all flustered.
"But what kind of doll? Be specific. A Barbie doll? A Monster High doll? An LOL doll? A puppet? A figurine? A-" Kakyoin piped in as she washed a few cups in the sink.
"Why the hell do you know so much about dolls if you're scared of 'em?" Polnareff quirked an eyebrow, suddenly over her embarrassment. She turned on her seat to observe Kakyoin. "Did a shape-shifter steal your identity, or did you get a lobotomy that made you get over that weird phobia?"
Kakyoin sighed. "I wish I had a lobotomy. With all the homework my professors are throwing at me…" She trailed off, shaking her head as if she shouldn't finish her sentence for the good of humanity.
"I would drink to that if I had a drink." Jeanne nodded her head approvingly.
"I don't believe that lobotomies are legal anymore." Mahmuda pointed out as she finally handed Polnareff her coffee. Jeanne smiled at Avdol and mumbled a small 'thanks' before taking a sip (or perhaps a large chug) of her drink. Noriaki raised an eyebrow at the two women.
"There are other things that are legal, though." The red-haired girl coughed out as she cleared her throat, acting as if she hadn't said anything past her coughs. Polnareff's head snapped towards Kakyoin like an owl's, her eyes wide in both embarrassment and a fierce annoyance.
"Yeah, like the death penalty." Jeanne hissed through her teeth. Noriaki blinked at Polnareff for a few seconds.
"Are you saying you'll frame me for something?" She asked nonchalantly. Polnareff stammered for a second before she stirred her coffee with an angry pout.
"You're, like, seven years old. I can't friggin' frame you." Jeanne huffed in defeat. "But I'll tease the shit out of you in front of Tori!"
"Don't you dare! Do you expect me not to fight back, Miss Polnareff?" Kakyoin shot a glance at Mahmuda and had a sudden devious glint in her eyes. Jeanne tensed, and her hair seemed to perk up like a cat's fur in fear.
"W-wait, I'm sorry! Kakyoin! Khaki shorts! Kakyo-yo! I swear, I won't make fun of your crush! Cross my heart and hope to die or whatever!" Jeanne pleaded, putting her hands together like she was praying. Avdol felt a bit of pity for Polnareff, but it was also a bit funny how easily she gave in to this despite her large ego. Whatever Kakyoin would've done must've scared Jeanne shitless if she was acting like this. Kakyoin held back a snicker and nodded her head solemnly.
"Apology accepted, Low-Poly Nareff."
So THAT was where Jeanne's shitty nicknames came from, Avdol realized. What the hell was a 'Nareff'? Perhaps Mahmuda was too detached from the internet or something. Perhaps a 'Nareff' was one of those bizarre memes that Kakyoin showed her from time-to-time. Frankly, Mahmuda only used her phone to contact her friends and family (thought she didn't have much of either), to look through new drink ideas and pay for things like renovations for the shop and such. She never had that much free time to scroll on any social media apps. She preferred reading anyways.
It took her a moment to realize that 'Nareff' was just the last part of Jeanne's name.
Shit, Avdol was tired. She stayed up later than usual with Jeanne last night, just talking about silly things like movies and art.
Thinking about last night made Mahmuda remember something, she went over to one of the back rooms and grabbed the bag where she'd put Polnareff's clothes.
Jeanne's eyes glowed as Mahmuda came back with a seemingly very gift-looking object in hand.
"Ooooh, what's that?" She hummed curiously. Mahmuda handed it to her and almost laughed at how surprised Polnareff was to see her clothes in the bag.
"Oh. OH! Oh, shit! I can't believe that I- so THAT'S where they went!" She stammered, hiding her mouth with one hand while the other strangled the bag tightly. "I can't believe I forgot these at your house- OH, MON DIEU! YOUR CLOTHES! Your hoodie! Your pants! The shirt-!"
"Jeanne, calm down," Avdol reassured. "I have other clothes, but I would like it if you returned those. Especially the hoodie, I really like the one I let you borrow."
"Why would you give me your favorite hoodie?! You know how forgetful I am sometimes!" Jeanne yelped. "Uh- but your hoodie is safe, I- I swear! And your other clothes!"
"Return them when you can," Avdol asked, pushing the bag closer towards Jeanne.
"Of course," Polnareff saluted incorrectly with a determined smile. "Yes, ma'am!"
Mahmuda blinked, pulling away a bit in surprise at the name Jeanne just called her. It made her heart flutter strangely to see Polnareff call out to her so eagerly.
"You don't have to call me that," Avdol mumbled, scratching her collarbones with a shy frown, her gaze stuck to the windows.
"You really hate nicknames, huh? Alright, alright. I'll stop," Jeanne abruptly promised, palms down to calm Mahmuda. "Oh, by the way, I haven't paid for the drink yet-"
Avdol grabbed Polnareff's hand before she could take out her wallet. Jeanne's eyes were stuck on Mahmuda's, and a stupid smile spread on her pretty lips. Her hand grew limp in Avdol's grip, like she was melting. That look made Avdol want to both combust and pull Polnareff in closer.
"Uh-" Mahmuda forced herself to choke out, "You can pay me back with the hand massage you promised me." To encourage Jeanne, Avdol held out both of her hands, a bit like she was being handcuffed. She quickly separated her wrists from each other and simply held her hands in the air towards the Frenchwoman.
Polnareff blinked. "Oh, now? Sure," Jeanne shrugged and took hold of Mahmuda's right hand, sandwiching it between hers.
"Tell me if anywhere is sore," Jeanne said while gently applying pressure on certain areas of Avdol's wrists. Polnareff's touch kept trailing upwards, curiously poking all over Mahmuda's firm forearm. When Jeanne prodded certain spots, Avdol winced and let Polnareff know that it was uncomfortable there. Then, Jeanne got to work, pushing at the spot where the Egyptian's thumb reached her inner palm, then at the inner wrist, then the small joints in her fingers. Mahmuda felt a bit breathless at first because Jeanne was touching her, but then she felt out of breath because of how nice the massage was. It was like Jeanne was stealing all the tension in Mahmuda's sore wrists and replacing it with a comfortable warmth. Avdol's hands and forearms were still a bit sore, but in a more relaxed way.
Polnareff looked extremely concentrated, her brows furrowed over her shiny blue eyes. Her lips were thin as she rubbed Avdol's calloused fingers. Mahmuda couldn't help but admire her.
Suddenly, Jeanne laughed a bit.
"Hey, stop tensing up everywhere I touch you! I'm trying to kill your tension, not make more of it. Relax," She urged while running her fingers along Avdol's sensitive wrist. Polnareff's touch was gentle, impossibly gentle. It was a harsh contrast to her rough and unapologetic confidendence, but it was also similar to Jeanne's constant underlying kindness.
"Right-" Mahmuda's voice was oddly hoarse and she cleared her throat. "Right, I apologize." Avdol made a conscious effort to let her hand go limp. Jeanne supported the small weight of Mahmuda's hand, and it only reminded Avdol of how supportive Polnareff always was (after her initial performative judgement for mostly everything). It made Avdol realize how perfectly physical therapy suited Jeanne as a job- how much it echoed her beautiful (and maybe a bit annoying) personality.
"I can do shoulder massages too. Leg massages, face massages, everything and anything you need." Jeanne added when she switched to Mahmuda's other hand. "Your shoulders look kinda tense, you know."
The idea of Jeanne touching her all over made Avdol's heart skip a beat. Couldn't Polnareff hear how suggestive her tone was?
"Well…" Avdol trailed off, unsure how to voice her desperate need to be close to Polnareff. And if massages were the opportunity for that, then she would have a very big difficulty hiding her eagerness for it.
"Free of charge, of course. For a charitable and skilled lady like yourself," Polnareff added, her touch over Mahmuda's palm suddenly light and teasing, though it didn't look like Jeanne was doing it consciously. She was too busy staring at Avdol.
"I wouldn't mind a free shoulder massage." Mahmuda cleared her unnaturally dry throat again, fixing her posture.
"Y'know, I can do this all day." Jeanne blurted out, her gaze now stuck on Avdol's wrist that she was rubbing. "It makes me happy to make others feel safe and relaxed. I like making others feel better. Massaging people… it's such an easy way of helping them. Physically, and then mentally too when they calm down and unwind."
Mahmuda considered Jeanne's words for a moment, letting the warm silence hug them both.
"I feel the same with food and drinks. If you nourish someone, they feel more energized. They feel ready to face anything. Making drinks and offering a safe space in my coffee shop is my way of helping others." Avdol replied, followed with a small sigh when Jeanne popped something in her wrist.
"Hey, if we team up, then we can double the helping!" Jeanne joked with a wide grin. Avdol laughed a bit, and then Polnareff joined her.
"This is amazing," Mahmuda finally hummed. "Thank you for the massage, Jeanne. I feel like I'm twenty again." She paused in thought. "Oh, no. I had wrist pains then, too."
Jeanne blinked curiously at Avdol.
"Hey, how old are you? Just asking."
"I'm twenty-eight," Mahmuda replied easily. "And you?"
"Twenty-five," Polnareff shrugged. "Old-ass." She teased Mahmuda, who snickered.
"You'll be my age in three years. Then, we'll see who's all wrinkly and grey-haired. Looks like you're already one step ahead of me," Avdol, without thinking, reached out with her free hand to Jeanne's silver hair. Her fingers twirled around Polnareff's faint curls, lightly tugging at the locks of hair. Jeanne instinctively leaned forwards when Avdol pulled, even though her tugs on Polnareff's hair were extremely light. Jeanne had a deer-caught-in-headlights look in her wide eyes, staring at Mahmuda. She stopped massaging Avdol's hand, though her fingers were starting to get clammy against Mahmuda's.
Jeanne abruptly pulled away, drying off her hands on her pants, her head turned away from Avdol.
"I've had white hair since I was a kid. It's a genetic thing," She explained with a huff, her voice wavering and her cheeks blushing brightly. "And I'll let you know, I'll totally be a silver fox, or whatever the woman equivalent is. I'll age like wine, and I'll drink that stuff every day like a damn sommelier. I'm not dying sober," Jeanne smirked, flipping her hair confidently.
"Constantly drinking doesn't sound too good for your health," Avdol pointed out, already missing Jeanne's touch.
"Ehhh, I'll drink the shitty wine with barely any alcohol in it." Jeanne flapped her hand lazily. "Maybe unalcoholic beer…" She trailed off, looking quite thirsty for a good beer despite the coffee right in front of her. Suddenly, Mahmuda wondered if Polnareff had alcohol issues. That would explain why she was always so dehydrated. But it wasn't exactly Avdol's place to ask Jeanne about that yet. They weren't THAT good friends. She didn't want to pry.
"Are you done with the massage?" Avdol blurted out, embarrassed that her voice sounded so dissapointed. Jeanne seemed to catch Mahmuda's tone and looked like a puppy being told that they would go on a walk.
"Not unless you want it to be," Polnareff stared expectantly at Mahmuda while she cracked her knuckles, seemingly preparing to massage her more. Jeanne's constant eagerness was quite endearing.
"Well, my left wrist is still a bit sore. I wouldn't mind," Mahmuda offered, holding out her hand again. Polnareff took it in an instant and started rubbing away the soreness happily. Avdol smiled in return, appreciating Jeanne's presence and aid as she stared at the other woman.
…
"Alright, here's your drink," Kakyoin hummed as she placed the scolding-hot black coffee in front of the regular customer. She cleared her throat, feeling her face burn. Jotaro, or Tori, turned to look at her with a small glint in her teal eyes that let Noriaki know that she was happy with the coffee. Tori's stoic face was just that- stoic and emotionless. But if you got to know her, there were small hints that let you know how the quiet girl was really feeling.
"Thank you, Kakyoin," She took a sip of the coffee, looking quite undisturbed by how boiling hot it was. Suddenly, Tori's gaze jumped away from Kakyoin, and perhaps Noriaki was going color-blind, but the other girl's face looked faintly pink with blush.
"Would you mind sitting with me? I need a favor," Jotaro started, her voice oddly mumbly. Kakyoin's heart exploded then and there and she sat down as calmly as she could.
"I don't mind, what is it?" She hummed, pulling off her sunglasses to properly take in the beautiful colors in Jotaro's eyes. Tori frowned, crossing her muscular arms tightly over the table between her and Kakyoin.
"My grandmother is leaving town for a few days to go to Italy. Something about seeing an old friend," Jotaro shrugged, obviously uninterested in her grandmother's business. "She has a dog, and I don't really want to deal with it. The thing's evil."
Kakyoin chuckled a bit.
"What, are you scared of a little dog?" She joked. Tori glared at her a bit but gave no reply to the tease.
"I just need someone to dogsit him. I'll pay you, if you're willing to help,"
Norikai winced. "I don't think my parents will like me bringing an 'evil dog' home for a week. Plus, I have way too many assignments to get to. I can't focus on a dog right now."
Tori sighed a bit, but didn't look too angry. "Good grief, who the hell's gonna help me then? Do you know anyone with too much free time?"
Kakyoin suddenly blinked in realization, and she smirked a bit.
"I might have an idea," She hummed after a moment of consideration.