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Chapter Text

"The lady´s out there again," Flavia said and stopped in her work of swiping the tables. "Not even in the rain?"
After the pouch was empty with fill up the coffee grinder, Vasco take a proper look at the woman standing outside the "Sea Cat Café". In this weather he didn´t need to glance furtively like the other times she stood there waiting, a few steps away from the outside tables with her hands in pockets of the more or less business attire and watching the harbour. She had come by for a few weeks now, mostly on Tuesdays or Wednesdays, always at two pm when the dinner-rush was over and the cake-rush had jet to come. Then she took in the harbour and the café with her long open look, the wooden rustic interior and all the marine decoration - of course a coffee shop at a harbour had to look like that - and the cat baskets at the window on the bar tables with the lazy harbour cats.
Now that it was raining cats and dogs, there was no great hurry and there will be none, but she was standing under the small roof near the door, shaking out her umbrella and clutching her blue blazer in her shivering hands.
"Seems like the tour guide of hers has some nice spots for even this weather, that shiny, puppy bastard," Lauro snarled, standing in the door frame of the kitchen, only to fend off a thrown towel by Vasco. "What? It´s not like everybody isn´t thinking that. I´m off now. Don´t let her catch a cold, could be our only customer today."
"Like she would ever," Vasco snorted, but Lauro was gone and Flavia mumbled something to herself about the chances of something like that happening. Because she never set a foot in this café. Even when the tour guide D´Orsay-guy whined and begged and tried to bribe her into coming in before they were off to eat or look at anything in this city he would like to show his friend new in town. Sure, Vasco had seen her make a step into the door frame and hold open the door for other customers; he had heard her calm, melodic voice during the attempt to contain her friend´s excitement, often with this small smirk on her rosy lips. Her name was never said, so for the staff she was just the lady, the shadow of that D´Orsay-guy or the creep - Jonas swore he had heard her talk down an angry customer and a shaking youth with some irritating, fully out of context words and a bright smile, so that the youth not only brought the customer another coffee afterwards but also one of the plain cookies from Lauro for the lady. Vasco had seen her on TV in some law stuff, and she seemed to have made a name for herself in her short time in New Serené. But after he´d seen her and the unmistakable mark on her left cheek in the storm of questioning journalists, he thought of her as the Tempest. Calm like the eye of the storm, even in this devastating weather.
It was two pm, then it was five minutes after. Her friend was nothing if not on time, but not today it seemed. Flavia finished the tables and went to take her break in the warm kitchen. And the lady still stood there, holding her arms near her body and speaking some words to a stray cat near her. Vasco had filled up every machine, but surely there were so many other things to do like getting a look at the orders or other shop-owning-stuff and yet …
The deal with the port-strays was: they behave themself around people and look good, therefore they get warmth and some good stuff to eat. They normally aren´t cuddlers, not this port-type of mouse-fetching-working cats. But the lady got down on her feet and scratched the tabby under its soaked chin, two united in cold rain and silence. All alone in his café Vasco gave himself a minute to watch that sight leaning on the counter -
Just then she cast a glance over her shoulder and caught him looking. Suddenly his heart pounded in his chest, but his composure held him in position, maybe even kept the red away from his neck. Was she smiling? He couldn´t be sure but would´ve placed a bet on this.
Sighing he took a look at the clock - her friend was not appropriate late anymore - and gulped his heart down. Not that he had to struggle to find words for mysterious, good-looking and obviously charming strangers. They were normally just short-spoken in response and away in a minute, which came with his tattoos, his eye make-up and his tendency to snarky comments.
"What do you have to lose – beside your pride and a possible customer," he braced himself mentally. Strode towards the entrance, opened it against the humid wind who helped him cool down in more than one way and leaned against the door frame.
"You could say something if you´re cold. Cafés are known to be comfortably dry and warm."
At the second sentence the cat was already in, leaving the lady looking up to him with an inquiring smile.
"So it is said," she replied, and Vasco found her voice more than just charming. Like the steam swirling gently from a hot beverage. "Or did you talk to your cat? She didn´t make an attempt to go inside - I´m sorry, if I held up your decoration."
"Good thing she didn´t hear you," Vasco snorted. "But it applies to you and the cat. Or how long do you want to wait today?"
With a sigh she got off her feet and shrugged. With her heels she reached his height, Vasco noticed. "Could be a misunderstanding, but I´m willing to sit this out. If all goes well I´m soon gone from your store."
"It´s a café, not a store," Vasco responded more snarkily than he intended, a second long offended till he noticed the sparkle in her eyes.
"Apologies, captain. The cats should have been a sign," she nodded shortly, but Vasco came to didn´t care about her hint of sarcasm. When did she read his name tag? And how long would she call him by that, till she asked his real name? Suddenly this was utterly important.
"They surely are, no store goes through that much paperwork. And the cats wouldn´t mind you waiting inside as long as you pet them like that."
She chuckled just the slightest, anyone else wouldn´t have noticed but why would he have to notice any body reaction of her? Her voice didn´t give anything away. "Thanks, but I like the view from here …"
Okay, so he got sullied.
"Please help yourself," Vasco nodded politely as usual and stepped back inside. In review the conversation held nothing utterly catastrophic … and then he exhaled. Was it the petting of the cats? It was the petting of the cats. Vasco slammed his hand on his forehead, it was an innocent sentence with a not so innocent meaning, if she had took it that way. Not that he liked, if she was trailing that way, but was she? Her last words had been nothing but polite, and … she only meant the view of the harbour, no?
A look out of his café and she stood there like she would stand the rain and cold for the next hour, till she would go back to her job and never again set a foot inside. The tabby stray butted at Vascos leg purring, then jumped up in its basket near the window. The lady looked up the motion, and the tense shoulders and sucked in lip made her look rather conflicted. So … not stubborn, but maybe shy?
On impulse he grabbed one of the blankets, that were meant for the outside tables and unfold it, while stepping out under the roof. Before she could get out any word he laid the blanket around her shoulders and was inside as soon as she could get a hold of it. Moments later in the safety behind his counter he saw her snuggle into the blanket and admire the harbour further, sometimes made a look over her shoulder like he did.
A snort in the doorframe of the kitchen made Vasco internally sigh.
"Should I help drag her in or just shut my mouth?"
"How about going home? There will be nothing more -"
"To do today, sure, captain," Flavias words were dripping with triumph. Moments later she had abandoned her apron and pulled the zipper under her chin. "If you suddenly need a day off, just tell me," she winked for goodbye and was out so fast, that Vasco didn´t need to reply.
As if. He was her boss after all, he could shuffle the shifts if he needed. And why should he do that, when the woman he maybe needed a free afternoon for didn´t even set a foot inside his café? Why did she? It wasn´t because of the cats apparently. It couldn´t be the coffee either, she looked all business, surely she was used to it. Looked all fancy, she could afford a good coffee on a daily basis, even the biggest ones with triple extras. But there she stood outside in the cold, glancing …
Ah, the blond puppy did come, out of breath and his styled hair slightly wet despite the umbrella. The bickering started directly, more from the guy than from her, and Vasco wouldn´t have known about it, if she didn´t followed D´Orsay.
"It´s raining cats and dogs, I was in the middle of a meeting with the doneigada and I thought, it´s obviously not a day for an outside lunch," he said bewildered.
"Obviously would it be," the lady said matter-of-factly, "if you had answered my messages from two hours ago. No answer is no cancelling, Constantin."
After the door shut, he stomped with a defeated look to the counter, from which Vasco held his distance as long as they were arguing. And he let sink in the fact, that she was actually really in his shop. Should he be excited about it? No, but happy was okay.
"This is the first cloudy and rainy day you would actually go out, so it was obvious to me. Why did you even do that, why today? Where did you get that blanket? And why not grab lunch at the brasserie next to the court-administration?", came to D´Orsay´s mind.
Shrugging she took off the blanket and looked around to find the pile. "I needed a breather." Her soft tone went louder and teasing after she met Vasco´s glance. "And stop interrogating me, that´s my job."
Sighing D´Orsay leaned on the counter, playing with the coffee shop business cards. "And Enlightened beware me if I ever get into your claws to do that."
"Oh, but you already are," she replied with a winning smile. "Would you now make an order or should I ask about Dr. Cata-"
"Fine! Unfair, cousin, but fine, we´ll have it your raining way for lunch. Not that the Thelemé brasserie would be enough or nearby or anything …"
Trying very hard not to grin Vasco thanked his poker face, as he finally untangled his arms and stepped to D´Orsay. So they were cousins. Vasco knew that he shouldn´t be so happy about that fact, only about that wonderful example of sibling bickering, although he himself had plenty of.
"So what would it be for you today, Mr. D´Orsay," he said swiftly, tugging a large cup, because the guy always drink big. He hoped for something extravagant with triple shots and extras on top, just to hold them a moment longer. "Something with our new vanilla-syrup, the sugar would heat you up in this weather."
"Anything with sugar would do now," he mumbled looking absent-mindly at the board behind Vasco.
"So a cocoa-cappucino for example?"
"Oh yes pleeease."
He asked some more things while seeing the lady survey the showcase with the cakes, cookies and pies in the corner of his eye. Or more precisely she stood there, but her blue eyes flitted once or twice behind the counter, and Vasco was suddenly fully aware that the grey-blue apron wasn´t ironed, and he maybe had rolled up the sleeves of his button-up a bit too high – but well, who´d see the tattoos on his face wouldn´t be surprised by the rest. And the lady stood enough days outside to notice that – was that why? He suddenly needed to concentrate on the preparing of the coffee.
"With this weather, do you have a plan for today?" D´Orsay seemed to have caught up to his usual high-spirits as he went through the places they had been. It occurred to Vasco that she had already looked up all his beloved more or less fancy bars and restaurants. The lady shook her head here and there, while watching Vasco preparing the order. Then her eyebrow jerked up.
"The nautic science museum? You?"
"Well, the café made an excellent tarte, but you don´t have to -"
"You know I would love to, but you must be really out of options for touring trough your city if you get there."
"His city?," Vasco asked, before he poured the coffee into the milk foam. "Wasn´t it Ms. Moranges city at the last election?"
"It is -"
"He is sort of the mayor," she waved her hand to her cousin, "with all the chores the actual mayor left him to do. Could be good as a training for the next election - but I don´t know if a yea-sayer would make for a good mayor."
"That´s so - you know we´re short on staff," he sort of exploded annoyed, "and the financial imbalance of the social-department is chaotic at best, the many meetings - and then we don´t speak of the citizens," he threw his hands into the air, a man with his hands full of workload. The question was, how he then found the time to meet with his cousin, but Vasco wouldn´t question this. Not while she obviously had him wrapped around her little finger.
"Sounds like a hard training, even if I don´t know ´bout politics." With a wave he poured the cocoa into the foam and slid the hot beverage on the counter with a last shake of the chocolate-shaker. "But if you´re out of ideas for your lunch, I´m at your service." With that he shoved the cocoa-cappuccino to D´Orsay, who shoved the money in Vascos hand but took his order with such a delight and tentative hands, that it made her smile.
And then there was a mischievous tug in the corner of her mouth.
"That would be wonderful. I´m not that picky in cuisine, but nearby and fast would fit, even a fast food restaurant, if the quality is good."
"Fast?", D´Orsay stopped in his motion, the lid on the self-service counter hovering over his cup. "I mean there´s work waiting, but of how much time are we talking?"
She checked an imaginary watch on her wrist and shrugged. "Half an hour, if the guy actually comes to court? If not, we could talk about the case in absence, and that is nearly already decided."
On the nearly-mayor´s face visibly dawned the realization that the afternoon would get demanding as he began to mumble to himself. Vasco shot her a critical look, but he knew acting innocent when he saw it, and that woman was a fine actress. Well, till she met his glance and her hidden smile fleetingly slipped like her look. A moment later the maybe lawyer found her mask again and asks: "So could you navigate us to a place, captain?"
Silently chuckling Vasco made a vague shake of his head, leaning his elbows on the counter and looking after the tabby, who had had enough of her basket to jump down and walk towards the guests.
"Of course. What should it be? Creamy, strong, spicy, sweet?"
"The food, strong?," she raised an eyebrow, not amused but interested.
"No, your coffee," he replied matter-of-fact and braced himself on his hands. "Could I offer you anything, Ms. …"
"Miss De Sardet, and I´m afraid I have to decline," she smiled apologetically.
Snorting, D´Orsay not so whispered behind them, trying to pet the cat, "She get heart racing from the littlest pinch of caffeine."
"It´s the taste. Remember your trial of torture with all the decaf?," she sort of rolled her eyes in her voice.
"Oh, now I´m relieved," Vasco sighed overly-serious. "And I thought it´s a cat allergy, that held you from coming in. Or a dislike for nautical interior. Or tattoos."
Yes, he had tested the waters and would have stopped hitting on her, if any of the three main reasons why people avoided him would make her squint. But to his surprise she looked him in the eyes, and the way she had this curious, excited look behind her even mask made it hard to breath. He leaned against the working plate with his hip and crossed his arms to get his body under control.
"One less than the other," the lady De Sardet mumbled, unheard by her cousin, who was successful in petting the tabby, till he remembered the time.
"Okay, so with the fleeting time and my intel, that you neither drink coffee or cocoa should we now take our run through the rain to whatever the streets have to offer?"
"No cocoa?," she repeated offended over her shoulder, and a moment later her cousin felt the storm threatening him.
"And what about Lauros lovingly created snacks?," Vasco fell into a similar tone, only to wave off the apology laying on her open lips. "No, that was a joke, these aren´t meant for lunch. But what about the cocoa?"
"It´s not like I never drink it."
"You always complain about my cocoa-creations," D´Orsay said utterly confused.
"With marshmallows, whipped cream, cinnamon, cardamom and apple-sugar all in one?"
Squinting Vasco breathed trough gritted teeth, but kept his comment to himself. That was way too much in one cup and judging by her sigh much too sweet. So he just watched the bickering of the cousins, completely forgetting the time and D´Orsays cooling cup, while Vasco sorted the information. Strong, not too sweet, no coffee, and maybe she would follow his recommendation, maybe even liked to meet there. And with a warm flutter growing in his stomach Vasco just knew the place for that.
Defeated they both massaged their nose bridge.
"Could we agree that there should be a taste-testing at my place to sort out the spices?" D´Orsays eyes fell on the clock above the kitchen-door and suddenly he seemed to remember that he had no time. "Wow, now we really don´t have the time to sit down for lunch anymore, and the rain isn´t getting any better. Why do you have to start this when your trial is running, the way back to court -"
Annoyed she turned to the counter on her heels. "You know what, you´re right, I´ll try. Lets see …," De Sardet started to look very focused on the board, tapping a finger on her chin.
"Try what? Coffee? Now? … oh you!"
Vasco needed all his countenance to not break into a wide grin - Lady De Sardet played the hard and annoyed cousin and it worked very well on the wild waving and silently cursing guy, but what D´Orsay didn´t see on his side of the lady was the suppressed smirk on her lips. Grabbing a small cup he took the chance to turn his face away from D´Orsay to sort out his face. What a tease she was, something he truly wanted to support, even if it would cost him this good customer.
"If you want to try, should we start with a small cup, Miss De Sardet? And the light roast?"
She wandered the two steps with him down the counter eyes fixed on the menu, but her voice also could have been right behind his ear. "Please, but maybe you could suggest me a drink of which I would like to get a large one next time?"
"Ha, try to convince yourself," D´Orsay strode up and down the café, nearly run into another cat while quickly getting nervous sipping at his cup. "Just get her a light one with the most spiced flavor - didn´t you have this chai syrup?"
"For those who couldn´t stand the impact of a chai itself, yes." And that actually got him a chuckle, short and soft so her facade wouldn´t crack. Over the glass counter with the cookies Vasco leaned in as a idea occurred to him what she would like. "But you look like someone who could bear it. So I would suggest an earthy chai with a spoon of cream and a hint of island-winterflower, how about that?"
Her blue eyes widened a bit, her cousins´ eyes a bit more.
"That sounds nothing like coffee - and you only sell bagged tea, or do you hide some under the counter for the special customers?"
"No, you´ve got me here," Vasco smirked, caught. "This one is served in the Clan-Quarter, a friend of mine owns a tea shop and sells a bread you have to chew on."
Judging by the uneasy look of D´Orsay´s face that wasn´t the streets someone in such fine clothes would set a foot into. And neither would his moved in cousin so far, but she seemed to think about it going by the soft smile and calculating look on him. So Vasco used the pause, fetched a card of his café and a pen to write the name of Sioras´ shop and street on it.
"The Clan-Quarters aren´t known for their cuisine," D´Orsay said slowly, "and they are far away from the port, how does a coffee shop owner here know about that?"
"People wander through other quarters, mostly to do something else than roast and serve coffee. And it´s hard to find a good tea shop these days."
A laugh startled him. She held her hand before her mouth, her mask fallen for a laugh so bright, that it stopped her cousin in his steps and made it hard for Vasco to suppress the warmth, which crawled up his neck.
"A tea-drinking coffee shop owner? Now I feel like I´ve arrived in this city."
"Yeah, I guess, now I´ve seen everything," D´Orsay replied lamely.
De Sardet and Vasco snorted in unison as if to say "Not even close", but they kept quiet. He finished the address … well, his number on the other side couldn´t hurt.
"Then I trust you with your recommendation on coffee. What would you suggest?"
Vasco handed her the card and grabbed the small cup. "If you´ll allow, I would make you something I drink myself, with only half of the shot."
"Sounds good!"
While Vasco began to create his drink - cinnamon- and vanilla-syrup, milk foam and a light espresso - she studied the card in both her hands with a smile that couldn´t be wiped away. Her cousin asked, if she would really go to the Clan-Quarters, they weren´t really known for their safety, at least not for people with a blazer or in uniform. But she sort of ignored his worries.
"Well, then how about that: Could you tell me as one of the regulars, when would be the best time to have a decent cup there? And a sandwich, if you recommend them that much?"
Vasco used the noise of the steamer to sort out the rush hours of Sioras shop - only to stumble over the thought, that she had maybe asked for his regular visiting hours. Hastily he sorted the days of her visits at the harbour out and tried to get a feeling for a good weekday. "They bake in the morning and around twelve, so you don´t get a chance then. But around two most of the customers are back to work and you have your peace till the after-work-crowd. Tuesday and Thursday are especially lazy." And he had the afternoon covered by Flavia, Lauro and even Jonas, to give himself a day off and casually run into her.
"I guess next Tuesday is quiet …"
"Cousin, if I could delay the meetings -"
"And leave Dr. Catasach again?"
"I- Oh you! No, obviously you would go there no matter what, but please," he lowered his voice to a childish grumble while Vasco ran the espresso-machine. "At least take a spray or Kurt with you, the Clan-Quarters -"
"I´ve heard enough of them, I work in the prosecution, remember? And I assure you I will make a grab for the casual side of my closet and be off the streets before sunset, alright?"
"I mean, Tuesday isn´t usually rowdy, especially at afternoon", Vasco guessed. "There is surely a statistic about it. I know, my face isn´t much of an assurance, but I´ve never had an encounter on Tuesdays."
"Yes, but you are -"
"Constantin. Leave it."
Putting the card in her pocket, she took a look on the clock in her purse, while D´Orsay remembered why he shouldn´t have said anything against Vascos´ words. The stab in his gut was heavier than usual, but Vasco hadn´t encountered such dumb remarks in a long time, even if it had been left unspoken. A tattooed face wouldn´t encounter much trouble as they don´t count as the trustworthiest ones, and while D´Orsay happily buys his coffee from the Sea Cat Café, he wouldn´t follow his recommendation. But even though De Sardet worked for the court and must have heard enough there, the lady had enough tact and courage to put down her cousins verbal finger. Maybe even those of her family and friends? Vasco was attempted to learn that and more about her.
He passed her the small cup over the counter and shook his head over the money she offered tentatively.
"First try it. Stir it."
So she did, cautiously observed by both men. She tasted it… grimaced a bit, but took a second sip. "Coffee, but actually hidden behind the flavors," she assessed excitedly like she loved to explore the new taste.
"Good, I will half the espresso next time," Vasco answered, actually relieved and told her a price, which was cheap for a small cup. Giving it away for free he wouldn´t dare in the company of her cousin. Then he grabbed another card and wrote another address and a small sketch on it. "And as for your short time for lunch, there is an alliance kitchen near the bakery three streets down, their kebabs and curries are a well-known secret in the neighborhood. Maybe Aphra is there, she keeps the secret of her homemade sauce like a watch dog."
D´Orsay took the card and was already at the door, looking the time and the card in a hurry. "Alliance to go? Well, the garlic wouldn´t upset anyone now."
The lady put the lid diligently on her cup, not hiding the smile anymore, which made her birthmark on her left cheek looking sweet and interesting. Slowly she walked past Vasco and nodded. "Thanks for all the recommendations, captain. I´m looking forward to this tea shop of your friend."
"Any time, Lady De Sardet. See you soon."
At the shop on Tuesday at two pm. Was this a hint of red on her last nod, covering the shyness on her lips with the cup? Vasco held his posture till the two were out of the shop, to finally catch his breath and allow the grin to spread on his face.
"An alliance shop sounds wonderful. Is this the chance to switch meeting points?," D´Orsay nagged as he left the door before De Sardet.
"How about no? The port is in between our workplaces. And I like the view."
"Yeah, sure."
Vasco shouldn´t have heard that, but maybe he should have. Not the suspicious tone of her cousin, but he surely didn´t have to worry about him. Lady De Sardet - always the lady - really knew how to play her cousin like a fiddle and if she was in law she also knew how to keep quiet. If she wanted to come to that indirect date, he would also hold his tongue, one of the easiest things for him. But well, he should concentrate on keeping a straight face next time Flavia asked about her.

Chapter Text

It did rain the whole week, so one could say it was a perfect day for a tea in a little shop. De Sardet had found the one written on the business card - and the number of the captain, which gave her the whole exhausting week some relaxing fantasies about these interestingly tattooed strong arms, the teasing, hidden smirk and that smooth voice hinting her a date. So it had paid her of better than imagined, to visit his café on a empty, rainy day, or else she would have never build up the courage to say anything to the man. He had played along teasing her cousin, he was really nice and it itched De Sardet to know more about him. So she followed his recommendation, shoveled the rest of the Tuesday free and switched into sneaker, jeans and her blue university-hoodie to actually look casual in this quarters. It eased her nerves a bit. Not that it eased the nerves of her watchdog.
"I don´t care, how casual you disguise yourself, your face is known here and if anyone wanted to make a statement to the court it doesn´t matter what time of day it is!," Kurt hissed, but either way she entered the cafe with the roughly carved wooden sign over the door, which said "Read Spear-Mint Tea".
The constant grumble of the officer in her neck did nothing on the nice interior of the café, or greenhouse by the amount of plants. The shop was more like a stony little house, cozy and even a fake chimney was at one side of the long room leading inwards, various unmatching chairs and small tables in every corner, arranged in a way that one could only from the counter view every customer. De Sardet couldn´t imagine it to be loud even on a crowded day, but today only a female couple with some leathery clan-attire lounged at the chimney, holding hands while sunken into their reading. Behind the counter a broad young man turned from the sandwich counter - only to drop his service face on the sight of the darkblue uniform. A woman on the samowar with short, almost green hair senses the shift in the atmosphere, glancing over her shoulder and mumbled something calm to her coworker, the man not eased a bit while fixing the officer.
No captain. De Sardet tried to gulp down the heart in her throat, remembering that she was a bit early, she hadn´t acutally set a date with him and there could be corners hidden behind the hanging plants she can´t see in.
"Seems like you are more in danger to be statemented with," she tried to sound casual. Tea, that´s what she was here for she had to remember herself. And frankly he didn´t promise to much: the scent of hundred teas and herbs stacked in tinboxes at one wall in combination with the smell of baking was overwhelming, so De Sardet clinged on that. "And with every minute glaring it won´t get better. So will you now go the circuit again and leave me be in peace on my free afternoon or do I have to threaten you with herb-tea?"
"Herb -"
"To go."
Sighing but not going Kurt followed her to the counter, grinding greeted by the broad guy and with a quieter, but firm greeting of his coworker setting fresh washed cups onto the cupboard under the menu. She was familiar, but in studying the tasty looking sandwiches and pies De Sardet couldn´t much care - with hidden glances through the café her heart sinks more and more as there were no other customers. But, oh well, it was a nice recommendation so far …
"What would you like, officer," the young man sort of smiled servicelike. "Some tea, snacks, a look in our humble workspace? Are you from the health office, the finance authority or the criminal office? In all three cases I could assure you, that we have nothing to hide."
"Yes, I´m sure of that," Kurt replied neutral and with a smile so false, De Sardet cringed inwardly and could count down, when this will escalate.
As two voices from the kitchendoor catched De Sardets full attention. A woman - the grumpy spitting image of the greenhaired woman who De Sardet remembered as Eseld - perked her head out to say two words and went off without a look in the shop, while a tattooed man stepped out behind her with a last word while rolling his sleeves down.
Yes, the time seemed to stop as she meets his brown eyes, and it was that moment when his pupils widen that she knew she wasn´t mistaken, wasn´t exited the whole week for nothing. Maybe he was often here on Tuesdays, but today he had waited for her. A small soft smile curved his lips as he got out of the workspace of his presumable friends and behind Kurt out of sight. Only then De Sardet remembered to breathe.
He was here. Now she only had to get rid of her watchdog.
Who had gotten himself in a silent showdown with the young man, given the narrowed eyes of them. Oh well, she had to figure out a plan to convince Kurt fast -
Then the captain suddenly stands near her at the sandwich showcase, casually shoved the hands in his grey jeans, and switching the stance from one black boot to the other.
"Are you going to stare the rest of the day or could you manage to get me some of your biscuits, Aidan?," he asked with a lifted eyebrow.
"I - But you already have a plate."
"So?"
Some moments long he sizes him up while trying to watch the officer, but Aiden seemed to find nothing and took with a "Whatever" another plate and a serving glove.
"I will put it together," the green haired woman in her blueish mustered clan-attire finished her work, took the plate from her coworker, and nodded her friend away. She added low: "And could you please help Eseld? I will handle it from here."
Because her coworker was about to protest to his boss, De Sardet explained: "He isn´t even on duty, just stumbled in this area and was already about to go," ignoring the huff at her side.
"Why didn´t – you were a moment ago with her, why don´t you?"
The captain had to be much closer with the café, the way he wasn´t a bit offended in the angry tone he shrugged to. "I had a long week, it´s my day off and she blamed me for slippery hands?"
Aiden wasn´t convinced, but he sort of believed the captain, while his coworker rolled her eyes opening the pie showcase. De Sardet would like to see some more of the interaction in this shop, but as the captain shrugs she couldn´t prevent herself to smell him. A cologne like his coffee shop and sweet bakery and cinnamon. She could also feel Kurts critical look on her neck, which helped to focus. A moment later Aiden left, with a last warning look to Kurt, gesture two fingers from his eyes to the officer. Of course the officer had to tense his crossed arms, but sighing De Sardet laid a hand on his shoulder with a "It´s okay, you could drop your intimidating". In the meantime the shop owner had put the biscuits together and shoved it over the showcase to the money of the captain, which she took unceremoniously. On his "To kind of you" she only nodded by the way, fully concentrated on the register, while the captain went to a table hidden behind hanging plants, where a book and a cup and teapot with other biscuits waited.
In the movements before the counter and as the female couple shifted on their chairs, De Sardet took the opportunity to get a look to his place, caught a glance and feel the goosebumps wander up her arms and stayed there. The captain had seated himself with the view to the shopwindow and the counter. Of course he casually grabbed his book and cup, but in the corner of her eye De Sardet could see him watch her behind her Kurt-wall. Right, she had to do something about that.
The moment the shop owner had turned her full attention to them, De Sardet remembered her name. The face with the fresh dark scars on her cheek wasn´t to forget, and she knew that Kurt also had to remember her. Like Siora remembered them or at least De Sardet, leaning her small figure on the counter with wide hands and a critical look.
"Are you official undercover? Your attire looks very strange on you."
"Apologies, that´s actually my casual cloths?," De Sardet chuckles, even when Siora wasn´t convinced. She stepped to the showcase and studied the pies to make a point in spending her afternoon in here. "So no, no undercover for me."
"Why should you even do that," Kurt asked.
"I would not know, but it would do some good here. She could probably talk any mindshakers out of here - she surely did with the bridge-miliz."
And while Kurt stare at her in search for the event Siora hinted, the woman held his look one, two moments till she had to look away at De Sardet. Was she a bit nervous about Kurt? If so then not because of annoyance. They surely had met at one point in the Ghais-Rad-Street-Case against her mother, but with a short look Kurt could be easily mistaken with every other guy in uniform, people tend to do that. Only that Siora now didn´t take a short look, but some more on Kurt. And there it was again, that little mischieve voice in De Sardets head, that didn´t had much chance to get out but for her dearest acquaintances. She was nothing less than observant, she had to as a lawyer, and maybe she could hint them enough into embarassment to break Kurts always vigilant stance and confuse him out.
"Please, if I would start working on the streets I wouldn´t have any more time in court. Petrus wouldn´t catch up with the pile of cases."
"That would be a loss, you are right," Siora said without sarcasm, crossing her arms and nodded seriously. "Since you did make a statement at the court of the importance of intercultural support -"
Usually Kurt was very cautious with his mimic, but now De Sardet could see the moment of his realization. "The intercultural-speech? You´re the daughter of Bladnid? I -" His surprised tone fell of sheepishly. "I didn´t know your family had a tea shop?"
"It is my own shop, and we are so far not entangled with anything suspicious, so naturally you would not know -"
Seeing Kurt from the side sort of stutter and lose his usual stiffness was a rare thing. He surely was far away of his known waters. And it was a bit funny to see how the suspicion of Siora visibly made him stumble over his thoughts.
"Didn´t mean - look, I was just wondering, because it´s said that the whole quarters are lead as one -"
Maybe that´s how she could get rid of him. At least it wasn´t just awkward for him, judging on the restless look of Siora everywhere but on the officer.
"He didn´t know," De Sardet interjects, before Kurt talked himself into trouble, "that there would also be a tea shop. I surely didn´t know. And the bridge-miliz surely didn´t know alike, else they wouldn´t have set a foot into the clan-quarters like they did."
"You think they would have dropped it if I had served them tea?," Siora replied with a tiny bit of amusement. Kurt mumbles something about "Wonders happen if you work on them," and from the hidden table the captain chuckled goosebumps on De Sardets arms. Had he turned the pages since? It seems to her like no, she actually hoped for it. The two women at the fake chimney on the other hand put their books and things in their bag.
"It would have stunned them. They just don´t get a good tea."
"Are they not more into coffee," Siora replies while fetching a tray and rounding her counter.
"If so then they don´t stumble into my shop," said the captain low but not low enough, as that he would be concentrated on his book.
"How terrible for you. Have a nice day," she said to the two leaving women, added something in another thick accent, what could be an apology judging by the annoyed look of the more tattooed woman over her shoulder to De Sardet and her friend.
With her look De Sardet tried to get Kurts attention. He was occupied with watching the shop owner tidy up the place, but finally, out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed her. Raised an eyebrow in trying to translate her small grimaces to fucking leave her alone! As he understands Kurt only had a short roll of his eyes for her - which fixed on the ceiling as he heard Siora mumble to the captain collecting an empty plate from him.
"What had they unsettled? Mev would usually stay till after-work-rush."
"Wouldn´t know," he answers. "The banter, the uniform?"
Kurts mouth snaps - but no sound escapes and he visibly struggled to retain his composure. His friend taps a hand on his arm.
"I should say sorry," Siora speaks on her way behind the safety of her counter. "But we have not the best experience with police. You could probably understand."
"Yeah, sort of. Count me lucky to not get a police car today."
"Even if a driving officer wouldn´t alarm the people as much than one staying in a shop," De Sardet suggests and didn´t need to give Kurt the death look as he was immune to it. But Siora stopped in her work, scanning reflecting the broad, scarred man in the uniform.
"That would actually do something, the driving," she fidgeted with one glass from the samowar. "We have "officers" around the quarters, but the Eden-Station …"
"So?," he asks sounding more offended than De Sardet knows he actually was. "What about this station? Concrete, I mean," he waved a hand defensively and sounded almost apologetic, "they aren´t in my department, so I only heard rumors."
A critical glance to De Sardet, and she nodded to the clanmember.
"You do not know?"
Reassured Kurt tried to take a harmless stance, one of the things he learned from De Sardet. "My dutys lay elsewhere. I´ve heard they had gained notoriety."
"Ah. Let say they do nothing, nothing wrong."
"And nothing is what they do," the low voice rushes De Sardets spine up. How could he always catch her on surprise when she knew he was sitting over there? Not that she was paying much attention to him while studying the many tinboxes - only to get the nice shivering brushed of with Kurts voice sighing, rubbing his nose bridge.
"Why am I not surprised."
It wasn´t his duty to look after other stations, but he was to much officer to not care. And he was here with a car, as he insisted to drive her to her tea, which gave De Sardet an annoying hour to fend of his suspicions. Given his looks on the shop owner she could use his weak moment and ask into the silence: "So what do you want to drink on your beat around the quarter?"
A surprised look of Siora accompanied Kurts considering her suggestion. He don´t have to, but he had some authority to check upon that station and more importantly the trust of some important superiors. He just needed a gentle push.
"Nothing hot," he mumbled absent-mindly, "wouldn´t do good on tour …"
"Tea," Siora asked flabbergasted. "You do - what tea would you like?" Because policemen usually had a season ticket at the Hikmet-Coffee-Outpost, and the city knew this.
"I´d suggest a big, intense, earthy herb tea, just like his soul."
It was very hard not to laugh at the exploding embarrassment in the shop while she could feel the stifled laughter in the booth. Stuttering Kurt tried to fend off.
"You don´t have to, I wasn´t even coming here for the - well I drink it, but it´s not my usual mixture -"
"Because the tea in the barracks has the consistency of tar and likely the taste?"
"It does the job! Eh, okay, yes, but you don´t have to -"
"No, no, this would be no problem," Siora replies fast, already scanning her tinboxes, then mixed practiced and somewhat eager the tea and filling the cup under the samowar. Satisfied De Sardet noticed that all the working wouldn´t hide the red tips of her ears or the rambling.
"So you would look around the quarter? You do not have to, and I can assure you that we clans do not usually wait for easy prey, or prey at all. But I really think an officer touring the streets would do something. But if you feel uncomfortable I suggest to lay off your uniform -"
A bit stunned by the sudden rambling of Siora Kurt opens his mouth and closed it immediately. De Sardet couldn´t hide her amusement about that remark. That was an opening, she had to take.
"If you could peel this man out of his uniform, that would be a thing. He seems like he could use Dome help in that, given that Kurt sleeps in it."
It was so easy to tease her friend and so hard to retain her composure at the sight of his wide-eyed stuttering while the red on Sioras ears deepen. There was also an amused noise from the booth – he really must have a good time with his book, no? It was fascinating to see how fast the cup then was served and after De Sardet covered his tea Kurt was out and away, with formal thanks, a hand full of sachets of sugar and a sharp look for De Sardet to be carefull.
"And call me when you leave, Greenblood," he leaves without giving her the chance for a witty remark. Finally sighing she waved her hand defeated.
"Hopefully you will have given up till then."
She caught Sioras unsure glance on her and out on the street, finally raised an eyebrow, as if to say "What was that?".
"I´m truly apologizing, if he had made your customers uneasy. He´s dead serious about his job, but a righteous one with good senses. If he would patrol the streets, it would do some good like you said."
"Good, sure," Siora slightly shakes her head irritated. "But how did you came to the name Greenblood."
Because she would never outstand him in martial arts, because she was new in this city, because she swooped into to many cases with the enthusiasm of the youth, like Petrus and other colleagues would say? And well, they were all right, but it doesn´t explain, why Kurt named her that many years ago, so she shrugged.
"He refuses to explain, so if you could get that out of him you have my deepest respect. Now I would like to put my plan into action and taste your teas. No, for here to drink, and I would like a slice of berrycake with it."
With every second she could see how Siora tried to get back into barista-mode, as she put back the paper cup, then took a plate for the cake, while she silently mumbles.
"And what would you like with it?"
"Do you maybe have an earthy chai with a spoon of cream and a hint of island-winterflower?"
Sliding the cake on the plate Siora slowly stops in her movements just to move her glaring look to her friend hidden behind but clearly seeing through the plants.
"You are not accidentally here for his recommendation? Why do you have to recommend this taste-mess of a tea?," Siora moaned and finishing preparing the plate, slid it on the counter before preparing the teacup. From the booth was an audible shrugging to hear.
"Why do you keep ordering it," the captain replies without turning away from his book.
"I fear I am damned to buy it further. Do you not want to try the green tea? Flower tea? Cocoa milky oolong?"
It was nice to look at the slight desperation cracking the cool facade of the shop owner, but the last recommendation echoes in De Sardets thoughts. "Hm, maybe I will get this next? If you get my friend out there another cup later? He sugared his coffee a lot so a sweeter tea sounds like him."
Even if Siora played casual, De Sardet had seen the tensed glance out of the window. Kurt maybe don´t stand near the shop, but after his tour he would stand down the street with a good view on everything, so this was a sure bet.
"I … you think he will be around in, what, the next hour?"
"Oh yes. He´s a truly reliable one."
Taking her cake she leaves to let this comment settle into Siora and let her prepare the tea - as the coolness flees her and a second long De Sardets brain got a panicking mess facing the subject, that she was on the way to change some words with the captain, to a … date.
Meeting, the always unimpressed role of the prosecutor swashed a bucket of water in her head and started the mantra she had clinge to the whole week. It was just a meeting, she made a step to the backside of the shop, she just randomly meets the coffee shop owner on his recommendation, and with the next step she could lie to herself that she could handle this to not make this awkward. Because he also was here on coincidence, casually had smelled so fresh with this hint of cinnamon, the ironed button-up, with the teapot and the open book in his hand he may be sat here about half an hour, he was a regular, he didn´t wait for her in the hidden booth, he just wanted his peace -
She shouldn´t muster someone that intense when she wasn´t on her job, but if the captain was a cat, he would turn his pinked ears towards her steps, and he clearly don´t had his eyes on the page. This wasn´t a date, the inner prosecutor clarifies and calmed her heart beating in her throat, but a well-coded meet-up with a guy she ogled for weeks. After very long, hard five steps she finally stands in front of the table as he heads up meeting her shy smile.
"Captain, I didn´t had the chance to say how good it is to see you here. Mind if I keep you company? That is, if I don´t disrupt your reading."
The even handsome face chuckles lightly as he gestured to the place opposite of him and closed the book. "On the contrary. Nothing would be more interesting than a chat with a mysterious woman like you, Milady."
She managed to sit down without slipping. What a start, he surely was more loosen up outside his cafe. Something De Sardet came instantly to like to, while fighting of her flustered face. "Mysterious? Care to clarify this assumption?"
"Of course. You have to enlighten me: Are you a prosecutor or a matchmaker now?," he asked low with a slight nod to his friend.
The chuckling tried to break trough and with pressing her lips together she managed to don´t snort on his observation - and while doing that she decided to fuck that shit. She wasn´t on court or at this place in any official, so beside not to lose her nerves or her tongue only because she´d meet someone hot and interesting, she didn´t know what should keep her away from enjoying herself.
"Why not both? Reading people and speaking their thoughts out loud is a highly underrated but very useful skill in many professions," she managed to shrug nonchalantly and keep her eyes of from Siora, who brought her the teacup with the timer. Beginning to dip the infuser she counters. "But you yourself gave me a riddle: I see, why you don´t sell the good tea for the sake of your friend, but then why open a coffee shop in the first place?"
"I wondered if this would be the first or third question," he grins into his cup before his lips held with long fingers. "I´m good at it? It sells of very well, given the companies surrounding the harbour - not to mention the view. And it comes with those fancy nametags and nicknames."
"What, captain wasn´t your true name," De Sardet mimicked the shocked one with a flat hand on her chest. "I would never think and asked that. Well, not as the first question, obviously."
Behind his cup the man pressed his lips together, but it didn´t help because the wide smirk was obvious. "So when would you ask this? Before or after the tattoos?"
"Given that there are other ways to get to know your tattoos better than by questioning, I want to ask now?"
The pause stretched and beside her shocked inner prosecutor the embarrassment throw a party in her head, which she tried to hide behind a casual fork full of the berrycake – pleasantly sour and sweet – while letting dripping of the infuser. The captain sipped long on his tea and laid his eyes on her doing.
As he speaks again he didn´t sound so witty as usual, but not offended either. "Aye, Vasco would do the job. Which leaves me confused, by which of the lot of fancy names would you go? Cousin is obviously no option. Or Greenblood, whatever the history is. Lady would be a bit to much in public? And Creep is a no-go. From Jonas, don´t ask now," he waved her questioning look away.
"That´s at least nice enough, compared to what I´ve been already named. I would have to interrogate him sometime, nicely, don´t worry. I prefer my first name, Catalyna, but I´m sure you will make up a nickname for me in no time, like so many do," she slowly waved her cup of chai with winterflower. The cup, the warmth, the cozy atmosphere in this greenhouse-like cafe, the sour taste of the cake, the feeling that he - Vasco, what a nice name - would make a very enjoyable company in this not-quite-a-date, this all began to loosen her up and deafen her shyness. Well, a bit.
"Given how long I could watch you out of the window I had some in mind, that´s true."
He raised his cup hiding his smirk again, but there was no mischief or sarcasm in it - just a sort of tentative attention, that made her eyes glint with silent joy. How he observed her bringing the cup to her nose, how she … my, what a smell, a really rich chai that smelled of earth and journeys over the sea on a spice-merchant-ship, waving a hint of a blossoming island to her. She sips her tea, rolled the taste over her tongue and had to silently praise the tea shop, this man, the very moment here and now.
"You promised not too much," she managed to breathe.

----------

A tour and three hours later it wasn´t Greenblood coming out of the tea shop, but it´s very own owner with the greenish hair. The pretty she-wolf, Kurt had thought inside the shop, but many workers in the gastronomy or in other shops had that trait - how else should they deal with angry and threatening customers? Sitting in his own car a few meters down the shop to have a good sight on the coming and going customers and at least a view on the counter near the door he had hoped, that De Sardet didn´t run into a big mistake - she was there to meet someone, without question, and he has his worries about this.
The shop owner didn´t cross the street with the cup and the biscuit on it, but walked down the footpath and halted at his side of the car, waiting till Kurt let down the window before she speaks.
"I came to warn you, that you will wait your whole day. They are in their bubble."
She - Siora, Kurt takes the time to read the tag on her green apron - didn´t threaten or attack him. He was irritated about the tea in her hands and her waiting, but not that she had the guts to let herself be seen with a officer … who´s watched her shop for two hours with his famous grumpy face. So he actually was lucky.
"Bubble," he repeats annoyed. "So what is this, a date?"
"It is." And even in these few words, her sweet singing accent tingled in his head, even when he had to give her a look. "What, I know one when it happens in my shop." Shrugging she leans on his car, but Kurt could see her unimpressed expression from the side when he shifts a little in his seat. "Why, are you stalking your crush?"
"Pff," was his immediate and true reaction. "She´s my charge if you worry about me sitting here. But who is her date, that naut-guy?"
She didn´t look at him but he heard her take offense. "Let me guess, tattoos and clan-attire are bad dating material?"
"That´s not -" And suddenly her suggestion hits him. "Of course not, I mean if that´s what´s attract, eh, the people, so to say if she wants to … it´s just -"
"Complicated. I know." And her tone was nothing less than sympathy and maybe trailing off to her own sad thoughts. Kurt wasn´t often charged with tours through the clan-quarters and he only heard of the problems in the barrack-news and everybody knows how biased they were. He only met some clanmembers in the investigations of his charge and Kurt came to think, that there should be something he could do, even only to make his own work easier. And well, a shop owner standing comfortable at his car was something.
"Don´t want to chase you away, but don´t you have a order to deliver?"
"Ah, yes."
And she shoved the cup and the biscuit trough the window in his surprised hands.
"Since they ordered the third time I thought you could need one to. Be free to use the bathroom."
So this was her idea? Slowly the thought builds up behind the exiting view of another taste of this interesting tea. Even a biscuit! But Siora gave him not time to thank as she continues.
"And if you are worried of your charge when she enters the clan-quarters -"
"It´s not because -" They both stop and Kurt took a chance out of her surprise. "Not because of the clanmembers but the troubles with -"
"- the other quarter-gangs?"
Kurt sort of nods. He doesn´t know much about cultural indifferenties and the quarrels weren´t his duty. But Siora sighs heavily.
"That´s what we always trying to say! My, thanks … ah, so when you are worried about, eh, you could left me your number and I will call, if she slip your watch and comes around the shop. I´ve got to know her once and she was more than nice to my people, we wouldn´t harm her, but I could relate to your concerns."
"That you would do?"
But he hadn´t put his natural mistrust in words as he already pulled out his card. A helping citizen was always nice and … okay, she had brought him tea - he had to pay that - and her words were a bit hesitant and if Kurt was true to himself he would be happy to see the little flower more often. So he discreetly put his own number on the backside and slipped it into her hand.
"That would be very appreciated. Please call me when there´s anything else, any troubles uprising in the neighborhood or problems at your café or … anything else."
A moment long she seemed to have a loss of words, so Kurt shuffled around his pockets to collect the money she reluctantly takes. Then she leaned off his car and nods shortly but smiling.
"I will come back to this, thank you."
"And I will have my ears at the quarters," he cheers to her with the cup.