Chapter Text
I could say I feel better; it depends on the day
And what's going on inside my elevator brain
Which button is pressed and which number lights
I'm never sure which floor is mine
'Cause some days I'm drinking coffee with my friends
I've got stitches in my side from all the laughs
Other days I can't stitch together the words to say
I'm not any better
I'm not okay
I'm not any better
I'll be okay
I'm a little bit better than I've been
-
“Coffee with my friends” by Candy Hearts
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ S ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wade Whipple is, many people would assume, a creature of habit, first and foremost. He has his job, he has his friends, and he has Green Hills. He is fairly popular with the towns people, who invite him in for lunch or a coffee when he stops by at their place to help them with whatever little nuisance they had called the local police for. He goes fishing with Tom and is invited over to the Wachowski’s for dinner every other day or so. There are fix routines to his life habits woven into his every day, and he likes it that way. Creature of habit, clearly. Would have been shaken to the core if anything went against those habits.
The thing though? It’s a lot more complicated than that. Because one hand, it is entirely true - he does like his habits, and his comforts. Let’s be honest here – who doesn’t? But there is more to Wade than that. Deep down, in that part of his mind he does not really dare to speak to any but his best friend Tom, Wade kind of yearns for a bit more adventure in his life. To be a little more than the suburban cop who does nothing more all day than try and catch speedsters in a place where nobody ever drives faster than walking pace, and who’s biggest adventure a week is probably saving a cat from a tree.
“Trust me, Wade,” Tom says one morning, when they are settling down for work and Wade laments his dilemma to his old friend over coffee-to-go and stacks of boring paperwork. “Adventures are great and all, sure, but I prefer the quiet normal, these days.”
“Easy for you to say,” Wade grumbles, flopping back in his chair with his arms crossed. “You already got your big adventure, Mister I-save-aliens-for-a-living.”
“Not my living, and it was only the one alien,” Tom takes a sip from his to-go-cup and frowns briefly, tilting his head. “And by the way, it sounds kind of rude to call Sonic an alien.”
“Oh. Uh. Okay, don’t tell him I said it, then.”
“Eh, I will make no promises.”
There is a break in conversation then. Tom is becoming absorbed in the paperwork, idly sorting through it while he hums a peppy little tune under his breath. To Wade, who is watching him from the corner of his eyes, it is pretty clear that the conversation is done and over with for his friend. Tom has always been a little like that – he is great at taking charge when the events call for it, efficiently solving problems and sometimes pushing through a tight situation with sheer stubbornness when problem solving doesn’t cut it. But in the end, he really does prefer his quiet and peace. That’s why Wade never really understood why his friend had played with the thought of leaving Green Hills. He is basically born to be sheriff of this place. And now he even got his own personal, crazy adventure on top of it all, and got a new alien friend out of it (is it still rude to call Sonic that, in his head?). Wade is freaking envious of him, man.
Maybe that’s why he cannot let the topic rest. “I mean it, Tom,” he blurts out, sitting up straighter while he pokes at the uninviting stack of what promises to be another day of mind-numbing paper pushing. “How come you got to be a cool hero, doing real cop stuff? Why couldn’t we both have worked together, or something?”
“Hmmm,” Tom looks up briefly, then does a double take; probably realising, finally, that this is really bothering Wade. With a frown, the sheriff pushes away the papers, and turns his full focus onto the conversation at hand. “Hey, man. You got to be a hero too, right? You rallied the whole town for me. And shot a crazy scientist guy in an insane machine for me. Which was an awesome shot, by the way, have I told you already?”
“Mh, you did.” Despite his low, Wade can’t help but puff up a little; he had been quite proud of that. But still, it had only been this one minute of doing something meaningful for once. The thought instantly sobers Wade up again. “Though, the town kind of rallied itself, that wasn’t me. They love you, all of them.”
“They love you, too,” Tom is fast to assure, in a tone which leaves no doubts or buts. “If you had been the one in trouble, I don’t think there’s a world where I could have stopped Carl from using his chainsaw on those troubles. Just so you know.”
The mental image is enough to pull a chuckle from Wade. Tom is grinning at him, giving away that it had been intended that way.
But it’s not enough to really disperse the cloud hanging over his head, or lift the weight from his shoulders. Wade just can’t seem to find his groove, today. He is never really been a, a workaholic, yes, but today, even he can be honest and say he is too distracted to focus on a single document which passes over his desk. Heck, Wade even finds himself doodling in a corner instead of reading the damn thing.
It only takes a little while of this before Tom catches on, too. With a huff, the sheriff pushes away his own work. “Wade, come on. What exactly is the problem?”
Tom does not sound annoyed, only worried, but somehow, Wade still feels a little defensive when he puts away his papers entirely, shrugging. “I don’t know,” he says, a little helpless, because he really doesn’t. He has turned the issue over in his mind again and again, trying to figure out what, exactly, is bothering him so much ever since all those weird events. He likes his life in Green Hills and his job, he really does, but there just seems to be something… missing, lately. As if he had gotten a taste of adventure, that day, and now he wants to experience it again. “It’s just – suddenly, I keep hoping for something new to happen, once in a while. Something different. Maybe even just – meet new people! But this is Green Hills, and nothing new or out of the ordinary ever happens, so. Kind of pointless. And that makes me antsy.”
“Mh, wouldn’t say nothing out of the ordinary ever happens,” Tom reminds him drily, quirking a smile when Wade snorts at him and rolls his eyes, retorting, “Sonic doesn’t count anymore. It’s been over a month now; that’s already old news.”
“Oh, I’m so telling him you said that.”
“Naw, come on, don’t.”
“You won’t be invited for our next rewatch of Speed at this rate.”
“… Or maybe do tell him. I’ve watched that movie way too many times now.”
“Yo, if I have to suffer, so do you,” Tom gives back, pulling a face at him. He sobers, though, when Wade only manages a half-hearted smile back. “Woah, buddy. That’s really pulling you down, isn’t it?”
“No, no, I’m fine I…” Wade tries to assure, then sighs deeply when he notices the other’s suspicious gaze. Welp, that’s the problem when you have known someone your entire life; they get way too good at reading you. Shrugging a tad helplessly, he confesses, “Okay, yeah, it does bother me. But I’m gonna get over it, okay? Just. Have to rant about it once in a while, get it out of my system.”
“Riiight,” Tom nods, clearly not fully convinced. “I will let that slide, for now. If you ever need someone to rant at, though, you know where to find me.”
“At the desk opposite of me?” Wade jokes, gesturing at the familiar (boring, a small part of his mind reminds him) set up in their office.
“And I’m here to stay. Or, well, at least from eight to five. Afterwards you can damn well find someone else to rant to.”
“Ouch.”
“Ooor you can come over for dinner, but then you have to sit through Speed with us, and pretend to love it.”
“That’s my only other option?” Wade pretends to grumble and sigh, but he cannot quite hide his own smile. He might have come to hate the damn movie, by now, but he loves the Wachowskis like family, and Sonic, by now, as well. And Maddie’s cooking is to die for, so. “Okay, fine, I will survive it, I think.”
"Great. I will tell Maddie you're coming over - tomorrow? Tomorrow work for you?"
"Sure, count me in." It warms Wade's heart to see Tom grin and reach for his phone with an excitement as if he is doing him a favor by coming over.
That should be it, really. They should turn back to work now, boring as it might be, and forget about this entire conversation. It had only been a whim, anyway. Nothing important. Wade fully expects Tom to chuck away his phone and then turn back to the paperwork.
But once again, his friend surprises him. Tom finishes a quick text message to Maddie before chucking his phone away yes, but once he is done with that, he pauses, staring into the air for a beat before sighing and running a hand through his hair. "Wade?"
"Yeah?"
"If you really want something new, maybe start small?" When Wade simply blinks at him, puzzled, Tom elaborates, “Doesn't have to be a wild goose chase through the country with a talkative hedgehog on the passenger seat for everyone. Maybe just try something new. A new hobby, or something."
"A hobby," Wade echoes, not entirely convinced yet. Are they really talking about the same thing still? That seems so far away from... whatever is bothering him today.
At his face, Tom chuckles and shakes vis head. "Sometimes you have to give new things a try, Wade. You never know, it might go great."
Wade stops rocking with his chair to really look at Tom then. The soft smile lighting up the other's entire face tells him immediately what this is about; obviously about Sonic again. Wade feels himself soften before he can help it, always happy to see his best friend glow with such a happy pride whenever the little blue guy is mentioned. Tom had tried something new, too, in a way, hadn't he? He had gone on a crazy adventure because an alien had asked him, and he had come out – stronger, somehow. He carried himself differently, these days, had lost the undercurrent of boredom and annoyance which had clung to him for a long time, and which had probably been the reason why he had played with the thought of moving to San Francisco in the first place.
"... Okay, maybe you're right," he concedes, sitting up straighter again. "I will give it a try."
"See, that's the Wade I know," Tom grins crookedly when Wade rolls his eyes at him good-naturedly. Leaning back in his chair, he then makes to push it back and stand up. “You know what? To celebrate that breakthrough of yours, let’s go grab some donuts and coffee.”
“Ooooh, good idea!" But even as he says it, Wade is already standing up himself, reaching for his jacket. Come on, he loves a good coffee! "But - Wait, is that okay? We’ve only been here an hour – and basically did nothing.”
“Wade, this is Green Hills,” Tom reminds him, laughing, and throws an arm around his shoulders to lead him to the door. “Nothing ever happens.”
“You just – you laughed at me when I said that right now!”
“Did not!”
“Did too!”
“Okay, okay, maybe I did – you know what, I’m paying the donuts, as penance.”
"Alright," Wade agrees, immediately softened up. Okay, maybe he is easy; but he does not mind it too much when Tom laughs and claps him on the back.
Dreaming of adventures is all nice and great, but sometimes getting coffee and donuts with your best friend is that little bit greater still.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ S ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wade’s chance to try out something new comes much faster than he would have anticipated; and given that he is a little superstitious about this kind of stuff, he will later secretly wonder if it only happens because he had wished for it.
Tom probably would have rolled his eyes at him, which is Wade will never tell him he thought that. Anyway! Back to the topic at hand.
Only the next morning after his talk to Tom, Wade is on his way to work – way too early, today. If he is honest, part of him hopes that he will be there first, before Tom, and, dunno. Maybe get a call for something urgent and important, and he will be the one to take it instead of Tom, winning his very own adventure out of it.
… Yeah. He knows it is farfetched. But a man can hope, right?
Because he is so early, Wade takes the bicycle to work instead of the car, deciding that this could very well be his new hobby that Tom proposed. It might have taken him a bit to dust the old thing off and pump up the tire again, after not using it for so long, but he thinks it’s worth it; he feels quite proud of himself when he cycling down the street to work, passing by suburban homes and the occasional store front as he goes. Since he has time on his hands now, he lets his gaze linger longer on the different sights, really taking in the familiar fronts of houses which never change, with people living there for decades and decades. He knows every single one of them by heart…
Except. The one storefront he just passed by.
Wade pulls to a sharp stop and puts one foot down while he finds his balance and turns back. Amidst all those familiar, never-changing sights, there is one new thing, standing out sharply even though it should be a common sight: A coffee shop, titled simply Mean Bean.
Wade studies the shopfront thoughtfully. Despite the early hour, there are already large groups of people filtering in and out of the shop, the bell above the door ringing faintly basically every second. It is kind of odd to see the place bustling with people like this again already, when Karen’s Coffee, the original coffee shop which had rented the place, had only closed a little over a week ago. Money Laundering, Tom had said, slightly incredulous when the paperwork had passed over his desk.
Karen’s had been Wade’s favorite place around here to go for coffee and pastries; even though the management had been awful, and he has winced in sympathy more than once when Karen had torn into employee or customer alike in front of everyone present - their coffee had always been damned good. Had even gotten better, lately, in Wade’s opinion. So he had been really disappointed when Karen's Coffee had been closed - due to Karen doing money laundering of all things. Wade only knows the Why because Tom had been the one to handle the paperwork of the whole case, and Wade had looked over his shoulder in passing. He had not understood half of the stuff Karen had been accused of, and decided he is better off not knowing at all. He had only marveled how mundane the whole thing suddenly seemed. Once upon a time, something like money laundering would have been huge in the sleepy little Green Hills, where nothing out of the ordinary ever happened, and the biggest thing you had to do is settle a dispute between two farmers arguing over the boundaries of their farms once a month.
Now though? After dealing with alien hedgehogs with super speed, and the government, and kind of mad scientist guys chasing after blue hedgehogs? Money Laundering seemed kind of boring, in direct comparison.
Anyway, Wade reflects while shifting from in his seat, nibbling at his bottom lip in thought, up until now, he had not given the shop which had opened in Karen's place basically the day after the whole fiasco a try. Because while he does yearn for an adventure of his own, he also like habits and routines in his everyday life. Like getting his morning coffee always from the same place.
But what had Tom said only yesterday? Start with something small?
This is small, but still a big step, he assures himself while changing direction and crossing the street (looking left and right properly, of course). And he does love a good coffee to bring to work with him, so.
Still hyping himself up a little, he parks his bicycle in the designated place for it and locks it properly before stepping into the shop.
A first glance around tells him that at least the interior of the place has not changed much. There are still the same cream white walls and the counter made from dark wood. But there are also some changes. Most of the bar tables had been taken away, replaced with cozy tables which invite the customers sit down and take their time while they finish their drink. There is advertisements now , chalkboard set out in front of the bar advertising for different drinks (gazing at one of them, Wade idly wonders what in god's name might be steamed goat milk). The changes are small, but they are there.
Wade takes it all in while he crosses the room and steps up to the counter, scratching the back of his neck while he wonders what kind of service he will be greeted here. Technically, it could only be better than Karen's service...
Someone steps up to welcome him while he is still getting a feeling for the place, and Wade nearly jumps when a faintly familiar voice speaks up next to him, "Hi, welcome to the Mena Bean... oh, hi - Mister... Whipple, right?"
"Huh? Oh, hi!" Wade greets back, incredibly surprised to see a familiar face. He has to grapple for the name for a beat, but manages it in time, luckily enough. Brayden. The young man had been his favorite barista back at Karen's Coffee. Karen had always scared him a little and the young blonde lady had always seemed so annoyed with him, so Brayden had always been nice to see. "You're Brayden, right? You work here, now?"
"Yeah," the young man - Brayden - grins, righting his glasses while he glances over his shoulder quickly. "The new manager was uh... nice enough to keep me around."
"That's cool. Still saving up for college, then?"
"Yeah! I really can't wait to go-..."
"Brayden. I don't think it's your break yet, is it?"
The voice of the newcomer is not loud, nor sharp, but still Brayden visibly jumps in place, suddenly looking shifty and nervous while he turns and stands straighter, greeting the older man with a high voice, "S-Sorry Boss!"
The young man's sudden nerves make Wade kind of nervous, too, and he involuntary straightens and looking the new guy over a little warily. Dressed in the same crisp white shirt and black apron as Brayden, but there is something about the way the man carries himself, straight and quiet - he hadn't even heard him approach - which sets Wade's teeth on edge.
"There are other customers waiting," the man says to Brayden right then, gesturing behind Wade, where a group of people have filtered into the shop now. "I will take over here."
"Right boss, on it, boss." There is nothing of Brayden’s easy smile left when he hurries away; the boy is terribly nervous, visibly pale despite his darker skin tone hiding it well, and Wade frowns a little.
"Don't get angry at him," Wade says to the man he assumes must be the manager, as soon as Brayden is gone. He hadn’t meant to get the young man in trouble, but he also thinks it wouldn’t be fair of the manager to get angry over a little small talk in the first place. "If anything, get angry at me. I struck up a conversation with him, so it’s my bad."
The man's attention shifts to him now. Wade has the strangest feeling that the other's gaze takes all of him in, inside and out, in only a heartbeat. Before he can even begin to feel uncomfortable over it, though, the man smiles brilliantly and waves Wade's protest away. "Oh, well, it wouldn't do to get angry at a sheriff. I might get in trouble with the law."
Thrown by the sudden change in mood and the wrong title alike, Wade splutters, feeling himself curl into himself in sudden nerves. "Oh no, I'm not - I'm just. A deputy." Realizing that he has not introduced himself yet, he points at himself and explains, "Wade Whipple, deputy. That's me. nice to meet you."
That was, Wade reflects unhappily, probably the clumsiest introduction in history. Thankfully, the other guy is nice enough not to comment on it, does not even blink at the usual floundering of one nervous Wade Whipple, and merely keeps up his serene customer-service smile. “What can I get for you today, Deputy Whipple?"
Oh. Right. He should probably know what he would like to order. Whoops. He had meant to check the menu while he waited to be served, but since Brayden’s familiar face had distracted him, he had forgotten entirely about it. And the menu is huge, he notes with some dread. There is a lot more on the board now than there used to be back when the shop had still carried Karen's name; a few drinks' names Wade could not even hope to figure out, wondering distantly what might be hiding behind the fancy titles. How is he supposed to decide right here and now?
Feeling horribly out of his depth and clumsy, he turns back to the other man with a crooked grin. "Uh - What would you recommend today?"
To his surprise, the other doesn't immediately say anything, but rather leans back a bit and scrutinizes Wade with another one of those intense gazes, enough so that the deputy finds himself shifting uneasily in place. Then, after what could only have been a few heartbeats but feels much longer, the barista hums thoughtfully and nods slowly. "Yes, I think a White Mocha with extra Cinnamon will do the trick. Wait here, I will prepare it for you.”
A white what? Wade wants to ask, but fears it might out him as a complete newbie on coffee shop things, so he bites his tongue and nods as if he knows what the other is talking about. Still reeling a bit, he watches with great awe how the barista moves away from him and starts preparing – something with quick, sure movements, flitting back and forth between perfectly clean and orderly work stations to grab something or other to add to the cup or filling it beneath the huge coffee machine on the back shelf. There are so many things being added and buttons being pressed in quick succession, it makes Wade slightly dizzy to try and keep up, so he leaves it entirely after a bit, trying not to look completely awestruck when the man comes back and hands a cup over, expertly slipping a lid on the travel cup as he does. “Here you go. One white mocha with a drizzle of caramel and extra cinnamon. To go.”
“Oh, uh, thanks.” There are even more ingredients now, Wade marvels, and takes the cup with what hopes is not too suspicious of a look. It sounds… special. He is already in the motion of turning away and leaving when he remembers hotly that there is something important missing, and he snaps back around with a flush already climbing up his neck. “Oh! Um. How much will that be, then?”
“No, no,” the barista – manager? Honestly, he has to be the manager, Wade thinks, he has manager vibes – raises one hand to stop him when Wade fumbles for his wallet with his free hand. “The first drink is free for every new customer.”
“Oh,” Wade follows the gesture the other makes towards a sign on the counter, which, yes, actually advertises just that – free drinks for every new customer. “That’s… really generous of you.”
“Well, we hope it might attract future regulars.”
“That makes sense! But. Uh.”
“Yes?”
“… How do you keep track if someone is a new customer or not?” The moment he asks it, Wade cringes a little. That's probably a stupid question, but he is really intrigued.
Despite Wade's worries, the other man does not look at him as if that was a stupid question. If anything, he only looks amused while he reaches up to tap a finger against his temple, a crooked smile appearing on his face. "Oh, you know; I have a very good memory."
Huh. That's very simple, but also strangely fascinating. There are already so many people in the ship now, and there had been a lot going in and out the whole time - does that mean the guy recognizes and remembers all of those? Wow. Deciding that he better curt this conversation short before he can do something embarrassing like blurt that awed thought out, Wade nods mechanically, and lifts his cup for emphasis while he says, "Well, that's really nice. Thanks for the white mocha - uh. the coffee."
“You’re welcome. Have a nice day.”
“Yeah, you – you too.”
Deciding that he has made quite enough of a fool out of himself, Wade retreats, ducking behind a new throng of people which had just entered to end the conversation quickly.
Once outside and alone with his bike, Wade releases a deep breath and sags with relief. Phew. Meeting new people and attempting to make a somewhat good first expression is kind of stressful!
While checking his watch - still in time for work, good - Wade takes an absentminded sip from his coffee... then stops, blinking fast while he eyes is cup with utter bafflement. It doesn't really taste like his usual coffee, a tad sweeter and with a hint of something he cannot quite place, but which reminds him of cake or cookies... cinnamon? The man had said something with cinnamon. It's good, he thinks, taking another, bigger sip. Okay, he is definitely coming back here, Wade decides with a decisive nod and an excited smile.
Maybe Tom had been right about trying new things, after all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ S ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
True to his - albeit silent - word, Wade returns to Mean Bean on the very next day. His white mocha something or other coffee had been amazing, so much so that he had been downright disappointed when his cup had gone empty despite the small sips he had been taking.
That day, he is served by Brayden; and this time, he is careful to keep the small talk to a minimum. He needn't had bothered, though - a quick glance around tells Wade that the manager is working at the other end of the counter, too busy with a group of four people to really take notice of his employee and the deputy.
Now or never. Another quick glance - yep, still busy - Wade leans in and asks Brayden quietly, "You didn't get in trouble yesterday because of me, right?"
A flicker passes over Brayden's friendly face, something like nerves, before he clears his throat and smiles brightly. Only the jerk of his hand when he lifts the cup from under the coffee machine gives away his mood when he answers cheerily, "Oh, no, don't worry. As long as I work hard, then Mister Stone - uh, I mean, the boss won't get angry at me. He's actually pretty patient with me."
Stone. Wade files that away, kind of excited to have a new name; he doesn't meet a lot of new people around here. "Phew, I'm glad. I really thought I had gotten you into trouble there."
"Thanks." There is still something jerky about Brayden's movements, but he looks less nervous now. "That's very nice of you, Mister Whipple, but don't worry about me. I keep my head down and do my job, and it's all okay. Yup. Uh. Anyway! What can I get for you today?"
Wade had been about to open his mouth to ask what the young man meant with keeping his head down, but the sudden question distracts him from it. Floundering a bit, he whistles out a breath through his teeth, then laughs a little embarrassed. "Oh, I - I got this amazing drink recommended yesterday, but I don't remember the name now, so..."
"Oh, that must have been one of the special mixtures from the boss," Brayden nods in understanding.
"Yeah... hey, do you do recommendations, too? Then I will just have whatever you would take in my stead."
Brayden pulls a face, and Wade knows the answer before the other even speaks, “Sorry, no, that’s really more the boss’ thing.”
“Okay…”
“But I can go ask him. Wait just a second.”
“Uh, no, no, don’t bother him for-…” Wade trails off when Brayden darts away, leaving him to finish quietly and lamely, “… for me. Oh man.”
Slightly anxious, Wade watches Brayden approach the other barista. They are too far away for him to hear what they are discussing, but it is pretty obvious they are talking about him, since Brayden gestures in his direction while he speaks, causing that sharp gaze of the manager to swivels over to Wade. Cringing a little, Wade raises one hand awkwardly for a quick wave and then immediately hides his hands in his pocket again, directing his gaze at his shoes instead of watching the other two men for the time being. Better than being caught staring again.
He is so intent on avoiding eye contact that he jumps a little when Brayden speaks up right next to him all of a sudden. "Here you go Mister Whipple. A pumpik spice latte... with some ginger, I think? Sorry, he said that way too fast for me."
"Oh wow, that was fast. Thanks." Huh. The drink yesterday had had a longer name, right? Frowning and unsure, Wade lifts the cup to take a tiny sip - and tilts his head in surprise when the tastes floods his mouth. Nope, not the same drink as yesterday. But still extremely good. A little spicy, which is weird for a coffee, Wade thinks, but what's even weirder is that it goes well with the rest of the sweetness and the taste of the coffee itself.
“Good?” Brayden asks from across, looking genuinely interested in the answer.
“Uh, yeah,” Wade blinks a little, wondering at the genuine interest on the other’s face. “You don’t know?”
“Nah, I’ve not gotten to try a lot of the boss’ mixes yet. He makes different ones each time.”
“Wha – really? This is not on the menu?”
“No! He just comes up with it on the spot, I think,” Brayden actually looks excited about it when he explains, eyes gleaming. “His coffees are awesome. I don’t know how he does it. I would really like to learn from him, but he’s kind of-…”
“Kind of?”
“...uuuh," Brayden stops speaking pretty sharply, looking a little startled, almost shocked; as if he had said more than he had meant to. He rubs the back of his head and laughs, high and odd. "Nothing! Nothing just - uh. He's so busy? Yeah. That's - I can't just bother him, right?!"
"Oh. Yeah, that makes sense." The young man is behaving odd somewhat, but why? Wade wonders, but he cannot come up with any good reason. Surely Brayden is not so nervous because of his new manager, right? After all, Wade had seen how the young man had dealt with working under Karen; now Karen had been downright terrifying sometimes, easy to get riled up and get loud and mean, and Brayden had taken it all without flinching, sometimes even laughing when he had served Wade afterwards. Nothing had really fazed him.
Wade very much doubts that Mister Stone can be much scarier than Karen, so he can not be the reason for Brayden’s nerves… right?
"Will you be wanting anything else with that, Mister Whipple?"
"Huh? Oh!" Flushing a little when he realizes he has been staring into space in thought - and holding up the line - Wade jumps and hurries to count out the money for the coffee, plus some extra. "No, that's - just the coffee. Thanks a lot. Have a nice day!"
"You too!"
Wade waves at Brayden while backing away, holding his cup close to his chest. On the way out, his gaze strays out over the shop - man, business is really booming; there is so many people. It is sheer luck that he had been early enough to avoid the proverbial rush hour.
While he marvels, his gaze lands on Stone, who is serving a whole group of teenagers all at the same time. Startled, he realizes that the barista is looking his way right then. More out of flustered surprise than really a conscious decision, Wade lifts his hand once more and waves at Stone as well - immediately cringing when he wonders if that was too buddy-buddy of him.
To his surprise, though, Stone actually inclines his head slightly in his direction; a barely-there nod, but an actual acknowledgment nonetheless, before he turns back to serve the next customer.
Surprised but pleased, Wade reflects that maybe, the new manager is not as strict as he had first thought.
He leaves the shop with a spring in his step, sipping his strange but delicious coffee happily. Maybe this place might just become his new regular haunt.
He wonders what kind of drink he will get tomorrow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ S ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Of course Wade does not stay the Mean Bean's only regular for long. The place is good, their service great and the coffee simply amazing. Logically, it makes sense that it would attract quite the crowd.
Still, Wade is almost a little disappointed the very first time he comes in even earlier than usual - and still late enough that he has to wait in a line which reaches through the entire shop right up to the door. It feels a little like his secret place has been discovered and made public, somehow.
Chiding himself for being silly, he joins the queue and waits, checking his watch. He left early enough that morning, so he is not in a hurry even with the wait, but he skipped coffee at home, wanting to save it for a coffee from here, and now he's really looking forward to that caffeine boost... and whatever surprise mixture he is going to get this time.
The line moves slow but steadily. Wade passes time by watching people who come and people who leave, marveling at the sheer range - young, old, residents of Green Hills or complete strangers, probably stopping by while passing through town. There is a little of everything, all meeting here in this coffee shop.
Finally, the counter comes in sight, and Wade straightens, anticipating to be the next who will be served.
Except that doesn't happen. Two minutes, five, and he is still not being called up to the counter. Wondering who is taking so long to order, Wade checks down the counter, and nearly huffs a laugh when he recognizes Carl - or Crazy Carl, as they used to call him before Sonic. Or, before Sonic became public knowledge. The old man is not indecisive about his decision on coffee, apparently – no, he's just very, very deep into a very one-sided conversation, talking fast and animated, hands moving wildly and eyes glittering with excitement while he monologues at the barista behind the counter.
A barista which is not Brayden, Wade note, feeling his eyebrows rise. He had thought only Brayden would have the patience to listen to Carl once the guy really got going, but no, that is Mister Stone - or just Stone? - standing behind the counter there, idly stirring in a cup while he listens attentively to what Carl is telling him, nodding decisively at some points. Huh. Strange; somehow, Wade had never really seen Stone talk to any customer for longer than really necessary. That it would be with Carl of all people...
"Carl has been talking the poor guy's ear off for the past ten minutes," someone says from behind. When Wade glances over his shoulder, he recognizes Francis, one of the local farmers, standing in line right behind him.
"Yeah," Wade chuckles, shrugging. "You know how Carl gets."
"Yeeeah. Somebody should probably stop him."
It takes another few beats and a meaningful head tilt from Francis before Wade catches on that somebody is apparently meant to be him. "Oh! Okay, you mean - yes, makes sense. I'm just gonna-..."
"Go ahead, Wade. Do some deputy stuff."
The sentence is accompanied by a slap to his back, making Wade stumble half a step forward and secretly pull a grimace. That’s so not deputy stuff, he grumbles in his mind while moving forward, eyes set on Carl and Stone at the counter. But even though the entirety of Green Hills had listened to him, back on that fateful night, as if he had something to say, as if he is a leader, they still seem to think that he is responsible for every little thing as a deputy, nowadays. Nothing new there.
Maneuvering past a pair of teenagers walking toward the exit, Wade sidles up to Carl carefully, attempting to stay out of his arms range for now; he has learned the hard way that startling Carl can lead to painfully hits when the older man jumps and flails in surprise. "Hey, morning, Carl" Wade greets him from his safe space, waving awkwardly. "You know, you're kind of holding up the...
“Wade!” Carl beams when he recognizes him, excitedly reaching over to clap him on the shoulder. Whatever they had been talking about before, it had put the old man in a good mood, Wade notes with a raised eyebrow. As if reading his thoughts, Carl gestures at Stone, who is still leaning against the counter with his hip, looking endlessly patient and amused, and explains, “I’ve just been telling Mister Stone here about the time when y’all didn’t believe in our Blue Devil yet, and y'all thought I’m a lunatic! Seems long ago now, ain’t that right, Wade? Since I been Crazy Carl!”
"Oh, come on Carl, you know we don't think you’re-..." At least, not anymore. Wade catches himself flushing a little when he suddenly remembers that he might have used that nickname once or twice, himself. Oops. But still; that is not something to just go ahead and tell to a stranger, right? It makes things... awkward.
Carl likely notices his slip-up, but he does not seem offended; he guffaws merrily and claps Wade on the shoulder again, harder this time, nearly making him stumble. “Aw, ‘m sure some people still think I’m loony like that! I don’t mind it, don’t worry. I know I ain’t crazy, and that’s enough!”
Wade smiles a little awkwardly and mumbles and agreement, wondering how he had gotten into this situation again. He just feels bad about the reminder how they had treated Carl, does not find it at all like the old man himself does, and he kind of wishes he knew what to say to get out of this mess again.
Help arrived in an unexpected way - namely, through Stone. The barista speaks up for the first time since Wade had stepped up to the bar, almost idly, "Revolutionary minds ahead of their time are often viewed as crazy by those around them," the barista comments while passing the cup he had apparently been preparing for Carl over the counter. "You should take it as a compliment."
Carl blinks, clearly surprised, taking the cup on autopilot before the words really seem to sink in. A huge grin breaks out over his face and he chuckles merrily, jabbing his elbow over and straight into Wade's ribs. "Hear that, Wade? I'm ahead of my time."
"Yeah, Carl" Wade agrees halfheartedly, somehow managing not to wince at the strong nudge. Ow. "I heard. It’s great."
Still chuckling, Carl mutters something under his breath which sounds like ahead, huh before turning to leave, waving at Stone enthusiastically while he does. “Have a nice day, Mister Stone! See ya tomorrow!”
“Tomorrow then,” Stone agrees while he reaches for a cloth and begins to wipe down the work station he had occupied.
Wade looks between him and Carl, who is leaving the coffee shop in obviously high spirits, and feels strangely… glad. He had thought that Carl might annoy the barista, or maybe that Stone might be dismissive of Carl and his ramblings, but that… that had gone better than he would have expected. "That was nice of you," Wade blurts, surprising even himself a little, and then immediately wants to slap himself.
Stone's wiping motions still and he looks up with a raised eyebrow. "What was?"
"You know," Wade flounders to explain, helplessly pointing towards the door where Carl had just left in an attempt to make sense. "Entertaining Carl like that. Saying that. I know he can be a bit much sometimes, but he's a really good guy, so..."
The more he talks, the deeper Stone’s frown gets, and Wade feels absolutely awful about this; he should have just kept his big mouth shut. Before he can apologize and change the subject, though, Stone puts away the cloth and explains, firm but not unkind. "I meant what I said. His stories are interesting, and I don’t consider him strange, for it. And…”
Wade blinks, and nearly gapes when for the first time since he has seen the other man, a real smile lights Stone’s face, crooked and slightly cheeky, when he finishes, “And I have practice listening to... passionate rants, let's say."
"Huh.” Intrigued now, Wade leans in, daring to ask, “Does that come with the job?"
"Yes. With the job,” Stone echoes, smile still present. There is something odd, about his tone – as if he is laughing at something that Wade does not understand. But before the deputy can wonder further, Stone is already slipping back into his usual role, fully the professional again when he asks, "What can I prepare for you today, deputy Wade?"
Startling a bit, Wade only barely keeps himself from gaping at the other, then smiles haltingly. “Oh. You. Remembered my name?”
“Of course. I told you I have a very good memory.” Another smile – quick, this time, but that is two real smiles in one day already! Wade instantly decides he likes those much better than Stone's customer care smile. "And it’s good to know the name of the policemen around. Anyway; you haven’t told me yet what it will be?”
“Uh, right.” Still feeling strangely light and happy that someone had remembered him – him, common, boring Wade Whipple – after only one conversation weeks ago, Wade can’t help but beam at the other, starting the conversation he feels has become a shared routine by now, “What would you recommend today?”
And he is absolutely delighted when that gets him real smile number three - just a quirk in the corner of Stone's mouth, really - and an inquisitive look, "Well, today I would say it's..."
Wade simply nods along when the other rattles down another long, fancy name; he will not remember it properly, anyway, so he does not even try. He is too distracted for it in the first place.
He had thought by trying a new thing, like Tom had suggested, he had simply managed to find a good place to get coffee from.
Now, he is beginning to entertain the tentative hope that on top of it, he might also gain a new friend from it.