Work Text:
“This isn’t going to work if you insist on giving my paying customers parking tickets every time you stop by,” Morgana said, drumming her fingernails on the countertop, quietly seething when Kayle’s expression didn’t so much as flicker.
Of course, Kayle was wearing those damn reflective aviators. Morgana hardly bought into pop psychology, but for those, she had to admit there was an effect. With just a pair of lenses, they successfully shielded Kayle’s expressive face - and her eyes - from such useless, human things as real emotion.
Though Morgana had only known this over-zealous cop for less than two months, she’d come to hate the very sight of those shades and all they represented.
“If your ‘paying customers’ insist on breaking the law, then perhaps you need better clientele.” The corner of Kayle’s mouth quirked upwards, an odd contrast to the blistering hot certainty of her words. “I’ll take the usual.”
Morgana’s eyes narrowed dangerously as she set to work on the usual - a part of her wanted to make Kayle’s coffee with skim milk out of spite alone for that, no matter how well she actually recalled the order. That sort of attitude from the regular customer she’d inadvertently picked up over the past few months didn’t exactly come as a surprise. Kayle was obnoxious and demanding at the best of times, and as much as Morgana loved the mental challenge she provided, most of their conversations ended in verbal sparring over law and intent.
Kayle was just damn lucky she was also hot.
“'Better clientele’,” Morgana repeated, setting the milk to frothing with vicious efficiency. “I should ban you from the premises. Surely that would improve my clientele a thousand fold.”
“Surely,” Kayle agreed mildly, and was it Morgana’s imagination, or did that smile edge wider? She didn’t have time to assess it further as Kayle continued, “Saturday, then?”
Morgana frankly wanted to tear her hair out - but she also wanted to drag the other woman out the back so she could make her displeasure at Kayle’s attitude well known, customers be damned.
She’d enjoy that far too much, Morgana thought, her lip curling as she finished up steaming the milk.
“If you think I’m going to put up with your shit all week and not get rewarded for it, you must have been hit one too many times in your idiot head.” Morgana rolled her eyes, pouring the milk into the take-away cup. Double-lined, of course. She’d had that argument one too many times. “Pick me up at seven, and try not to turn up early this time.”
“Punctuality is far from a crime.” Kayle accepted the cup, tilting her head in a way that was nothing but infuriating. “It’s respectful.”
“It’s obnoxious when it’s half an hour early,” Morgana snapped, narrowing her eyes. Kayle really was looking far too comfortable. It was time to even matters out once more. “Anyone would think you’d just wanted to watch me change. What part of that is respectful?”
Kayle’s face and neck flushed dark crimson - the first genuine reaction since she’d swaggered into the bakery. She drew herself up, practically emanating fiery hot offence, but before she could open her mouth, Morgana tossed her the bagged cinnamon pastry with a laugh.
Kayle really was too easy.
“Try to control yourself, Kayle,” Morgana told her, feeling more satisfied with the state of things. “I’m sure you have a busy day of harassing innocent people to get on with.”
Kayle’s shoulders relaxed a fraction, and her small smile returned once more.
“Innocent.” She made a sound in her throat that might have been a laugh. “You’re optimistic, for a cynic.”
“And you’re hot, for an asshole.” Morgana sighed then, crossing her arms and arching a brow. “Get out of here before I remember how terrible your personality is.”
Kayle nodded and turned to leave without another word. At the doorway, she hesitated, though, raising her free hand in farewell before pushing through the plastic flaps.
That’s new, Morgana thought, before shaking her head.