Work Text:
Michelle doesn't know why she's doing this, however it could be for any number of reasons. Maybe it's because Captain Strand has been such a great friend to her. Maybe it's because she's bored. Or maybe, just maybe, it's because the universe loves to give her these mundane tasks just to see how she messes them up.
That's what brings her to where she is now, stepping inside the door of Finessy's Fromagerie to get Owen his expensive and fancy nonfat feta cheese.
It's not that big a deal; she knows that. But she also knows that Owen is a perfectionist. If he doesn't get what he wants— and in this case, he might not— the people close to him have to heed his wrath.
As she walks inside, she finds herself surprised at the amount of cheese she sees. Aisles and aisles of it for miles around.
The worst part is that it's a small store, and it's somehow filled to the brim with mozzarella, cheddar, gouda, and so many other cheeses that she can't seem to think of at the moment because of how overwhelming the place is.
After a few moments of looking around the shop, Michelle comes to the conclusion that she is completely and totally lost.
Going back to the front of the store, she notices a counter with a man standing behind it. It's likely just the checkout area, but maybe the man knows something.
She walks over to the counter with a polite smile on her face.
"Hey," the man greets her.
Damn, he is hot.
"Hi," Michelle says.
"Can I help you with something?" He smiles at her, running a hand through his thick brown hair and leaning forward against the brown counter.
"I have an odd request." She chooses her words carefully, trying not to sound any sillier than she feels. Too late for that now.
"Hmm?"
"Do you have feta cheese? Nonfat?"
"Uh, yeah. Right over here," he says, disappearing for a moment to grab a block of it from a nearby aisle.
After he hands it to her, she snorts. "I didn't think you'd have it."
The man's eyebrow quirks up at her comment. "Well, it's kind of weird, but for you I'll make an exception."
Is he... flirting with her?
Michelle laughs. "Well, it's not for me. It's for my co-worker. He's making a salad."
"Wow."
"Don't worry," she reassures him, "I think it's dumb too."
"Thank goodness for that. I've never been a salad person."
"Me neither. I'm Michelle, by the way."
"Martin."
"It's nice to meet you," Michelle says warmly. "Now, I should probably leave and get this cheese over to Owen before he loses his mind."
"Good luck," he says, "I hope this doesn't sound too forward, but..."
"What?" Michelle asks as Martin trails off.
Martin disappears under the counter, returning with a scrap of paper.
"Hi again," she jokes as he's scribbling something on the paper.
"Here's my number, if you ever want to talk."
Michelle blushes and takes the paper. "Yeah, I'd like that," she says, walking out of the store, the cheese completely slipping her mind.
//
"Michelle?" Owen calls as he approaches her just outside the fire station.
"Uh, hi Owen."
"Did you get the cheese?"
Oh, shit.
"I think I forgot it."
Owen's eyes widen at her admission. "How did you forget it? You went to the store!"
Michelle sighs, looking away from Owen in embarrassment and not answering his question.
"How am I supposed to make a Greek salad with feta if there's no feta cheese, Michelle?" He asks exasperatedly, breaking the silence.
Michelle laughs, but then she looks at Owen's serious facial expression and realizes he isn't joking.
"You know, you could have always gotten it yourself, dad," TK says, walking over to them from behind his father and coming to her defense.
"Yeah, that's true," Michelle says, smirking at him.
"Do you want me to send you there instead?"
"I have to run, bye Dad!" TK says, quickly leaving the conversation, making Michelle giggle before she realizes she's alone with Owen again.
Owen gives her a pointed look, and she relents.
"I'll go back and get the cheese. I should not be doing this on my day off." Michelle mutters that last part, quickly leaving the fire station.
//
When Michelle walks back into Finessy's, she instantly spots Martin and cringes.
Approaching the counter, she alternates between crossing her arms and keeping them at her sides, the awkwardness consuming her.
"Hey, so, uh, funny story," Michelle stammers, her knuckles unconsciously tapping the counter.
"You forgot the cheese?"
"Yeah, there it is. How did you know?"
Martin smirks. "You left it here."
He pushes the forgotten block of cheese that had ended up a few feet to his right over to her. "I take it Owen isn't very happy with you?"
"No, he is not."
Michelle grabs the block of cheese, turning it over again and again, looking for the price. "How much is this godforsaken cheese?"
"It's on me. I'm the one who made you forget it," he says, winking ironically at her.
"Don't flatter yourself."
"Trust me; I'm not," Martin says, causing Michelle to roll her eyes.
"Prove it. Go out with me tomorrow night."
"Yes, ma'am."
"You know what I mean," Michelle says, rolling her eyes again. "I know a great karaoke bar around the corner. Does that sound good?"
"Karaoke. Sounds great. Will we get to sing a duet?" He jokes.
"Maybe."
Michelle walks off after that, this time remembering to take the cheese with her.
//
Michelle takes a few minutes picking out her outfit, but ultimately decides on a slightly low-cut black long-sleeved blouse with the shoulders cut out and dark blue jeans.
She wears her hair down and paints her face with subtle eyeshadow, mascara, and bright red lipstick, then slipping her feet into a pair of black wedge boots.
She grabs her purse and sets it down on the chair, keeping it in her line of vision so she doesn't forget it.
She runs her hairbrush through her long hair a few extra times for good measure, then takes out her phone to text Martin.
Michelle - Hey. It's Michelle. We still on for tonight?
Martin - Of course. Looking forward to it. 😉
Michelle smiles at the text, putting her phone away.
She gives herself a quick once-over, checking her makeup in the mirror again and running her hands nervously down her thighs to smooth out the nonexistent wrinkles on her jeans before grabbing her purse from the chair and leaving her apartment.
//
When she enters the bar, Michelle scans quickly around the room and spots Martin, their eyes locking.
For a moment, Michelle forgets anyone else is in the room. It's that cliché thing that she hears about only in the rom-coms that she definitely does not watch, but in that instant, it's true.
Martin smiles warmly at her as she awkwardly realizes she's been standing there staring at him for a good minute and a half. He stands up from his chair across the room, walking over to her.
He's wearing dark slacks and a blue long-sleeved shirt. Not exactly karaoke bar appropriate attire, but she can't say she's not enjoying the view. Besides, what do you wear to a karaoke bar?
"Hey," he whispers to her, holding out a hand for her to take. Although it's likely only to guide her through the space that's quickly becoming increasingly more crowded, it still makes her heart flutter.
She takes the hand, giving him a silent smile as a greeting because she doesn't trust herself not to open her mouth and stammer out words of welcome.
"I didn't take you for the karaoke bar type," Michelle teases as they sit down.
"A man can change," he counters, his fingers gently rapping against the small table. It's the same table she sat at with Iris when they last came here together. As her little sister's face seeps back into her mind, her face unconsciously forms a grimace, wondering how she thought she was going to get through this night without the reminder of a sister whose odds of returning grow thinner and thinner by the second and the guilt of too many words left unsaid.
"Is everything okay?" Martin asks, and his concerned tone makes Michelle's stomach drop further, the guilt encasing her.
"Just perfect," Michelle says, plastering a fake smile on her face and hoping that with time it'll become a real one.
Martin looks thoughtfully at the woman standing in front of the bar softly singing the lyrics to Someone You Loved.
"She's pretty good," Michelle says when she notices.
"Definitely."
A comfortable silence falls over both of them before Michelle breaks it with a question. "So, what made you decide to work at a cheese shop?"
Martin laughs, apparently knowing something she didn't. "I don't," he says, and continues with Michelle tilts her head to the side, looking upon him confusedly. "My grandparents own the shop. They're getting older, and I like to help them out from time to time, between shifts."
Michelle nods at him in understanding. "Shifts?"
"I'm a nurse."
Michelle smiles. "I'm a paramedic," she says, the mention of something they have in common taking some of the nerves off.
After another beat of silence, Martin nudges her shoulder. "Come on. We're next."
"Next for what?" Michelle asks, standing up.
"To sing, silly!" He says the words ironically, making her roll her eyes. "What did you choose?"
"That's a surprise."
He tugs her arm gently, pulling her to the stage. Is that what you call it? Michelle silently prays that she knows the song as the music starts to play, and although the rhythm sounds familiar, she can't put her finger on it just yet.
At least, not until Martin starts to sing.
"Sooner or later the lights up above, will come down in circles and guide me to love..."
It's a song she knows by heart, and speaking of hearts, hers is doing some very interesting things as he sings. His voice is beautiful, not loudly belting out lyrics off-key, and being a regular at this bar, that's a really rare sight. Or sound. Yeah, sound.
She's so immersed in her thoughts that she almost forgets that it's her turn to sing.
"Sooner or later it all comes apart, the walls are all shattered, I'm back at the start."
She side-eyes him as she sings, not hiding her grin and trying not to think about the look of awe spread across his features.
"And I wanna believe in a world we can't see, millions of particles passing through me!"
The song passes by in a blur, their audience clapping happily at them once they're finished. As they get back to their table, Michelle sighs.
"You okay?"
"Yeah, just hungry."
Martin signals a nearby waiter, who disappears for a few moments, coming back and placing a complimentary bowl of popcorn in front of them.
Michelle thanks the waiter and glances back at Martin adoringly. "Thank you," she says as she eats 3 at once.
"It's no problem. Any chance you're going to share that?"
Michelle feigns a scowl, pulling the popcorn bowl closer to her. Martin puts his hands up in defeat, chuckling. She rolls her eyes at him and pushes the bowl to the middle of the table where they can both reach it.
"Go on. I don't share with just anyone," she jokes.
"Why, thank you. But I must ask, am I deserving of this honor?" Martin asks, his hand coming up to hold his chest dramatically.
"I'm ten seconds from changing my mind, so you better act quickly," Michelle says half-seriously.
As Martin follows her advice and grabs a small heap of popcorn, he chuckles.
"What?"
"I was just thinking, this is kind of fitting," Martin says, gesturing to the popcorn.
"Why?"
"Because we're eating popcorn, and I work in a cheese shop?"
"Um, Martin," Michelle says in the midst of laughter.
"What?"
"Popcorn is butter, not cheese."
"Oh, my God. That has to be the dumbest thing I've ever said," Martin says, popping a kernel of popcorn into his mouth. "I'm guessing I'm not going to be living that down anytime soon?"
"Right on."
"I could always say stupider things to make that seem better," he muses.
"That seems counter-productive, but I'm oddly curious," Michelle admits, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Get ready for my awful cheese puns," he says, clasping his hands together and lifting them, his palms turning out to face Michelle as he cracks his knuckles theatrically.
"Brie my guest."
"Ooh, a competition. For starters, I'm having a dairy good time," he says, a stupid grin forming on his face.
"I'm regretting this," Michelle says before a grin of her own materializes in realization. "I'm having a gouda time myself."
"2-1. What kind of cheese did your friend make you get him?"
"Uhh, feta. Why?"
"I can't blame him. I mean, everything's betta with feta."
"Oh, god. That was awful."
"Do you want to stop?"
"Let's just press pause on this game for now, so I can recover from that," Michelle says, letting out a small snort as she laughs and looking away, hoping her face isn't as red as it feels.
The next few hours pass in a blur, Martin making more unexpected cheese puns and Michelle combating them with her own every time. They sing a few more duets and drink wine and shots. At some point, Michelle started tossing popcorn at Martin and it soon turned into a full-fledged fight, popcorn getting all over the table.
By the time the bartender came to tell them the bar was closing, they were 4 drinks in and 10-9 on the cheese pun battle, Michelle in the lead.
"Where should we go?" Martin asks her.
"The cheese factory!" Michelle says, giggling.
"I'm not opposed to that, actually."
"Ha, ha."
At this point, Martin and Michelle are standing in front of each other outside the bar. They find themselves leaning closer and closer, just centimeters from closing the gap when—
"Parmesan to kiss you," Martin says after pulling back, a shit-eating grin on his face as he gauges her reaction.
"You had to ruin it, didn't you?"
"Yep. We're tied now."
"One second, I'm gonna call an Uber."
Michelle fiddles with her phone for a minute, putting it away and looking back up at Martin.
The ride back to Michelle's home doesn't take long. She leans against the front door, Martin standing in front of her as they say their goodbyes.
A burst of confidence rushes through her and it has nothing to do with the alcohol. She quickly moves forward and kisses him, her arms coming up to hold his shoulders to keep herself steady and his arms winding around her lower back after a moment of surprise on his part.
After she pulls away, she looks at him with a knowing smile. "Well, ricotta get going."
11-10.
He looks confused for a moment, but then his eyes light up in amusement. Michelle steps back and closes the door in front of her before he can say anything to contest her win.
In a way, she has Owen to thank for everything. His annoying fixation on cheese led her into that cheese shop, which led her to meeting Martin and having the best date ever.
Michelle's head drops into her hands when she remembers the feta is still in her fridge. She's gonna have to eat crow tomorrow when she sees him. Maybe she can slip into his office and leave the cheese on his desk with a note.
Either way, there's likely not any coming back from that.
At least, not for a while.