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Summary
Napoleon was used to seeing all sorts in his shop: harried office types who knocked back their espressos before grabbing a long black to go, bored housewife types who took their lattes heavy on the syrups and low on the fat, tourists who ordered their coffees topped with whipped cream as they embraced a certain vacation-based joie de vie, college kids simply looking for a cheap caffeine fix while they took advantage of his free Wi-Fi.
Six foot five, blond and leanly muscled, on the other hand, at seven in the morning and with the most delicious jawline Napoleon had seen in days, was certainly a first.
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Or: The modern day coffee shop AU in which Napoleon makes Illya all kinds of coffee except for Illya's actual order, and things aren't all quite what they seem to be.