Chapter Text
Ava has seen a lot of weird shit in her life (she lives in Gotham, after all) but a Joker goon ordering four shots of espresso poured into a glass of cold coke at 3 in the morning had to take the cake.
She was half tempted to just laugh in his face, but she ended up shrugging her shoulders and making the drink. What the hell, sure man whatever keeps you going.
Having the graveyard shift at Been There, Done That had its perks. For one, her wage was a bit larger than the average. She also had barely any customers between 1 am and 4 am, and she could see the sunrise almost every day. Well, only when the omnipresent clouds let the sun shine through. Which is almost never, but a girl can dream.
What are the cons then?, you may ask. That’s simple: the location. Right at the gates of Crime Alley.
In her first shift, Ava counted six gun shots in only one hour. The record was forty a night (she was pretty sure it had something to do with Two-face breaking out of Gotham Asylum). It became a habit to count the gun shots, she even bought a little notebook to write it down. Even Jerry, one of the regulars whose order was a mocha frappuccino with 12 pumps of vanilla, had started counting with her.
Speaking of regulars. Having good coffee and being next to the main core of crime meant that vigilantes would sometimes swing by to rest and recharge before jumping to danger again.
Ava was way too familiar with the booming laugh of Nightwing or the calculating gaze of Red Robin. She even learned that the youngest robin was a vegetarian and managed to bully Clara (the pastry chef) into adding some vegetarian options. Robin didn’t exactly smile when he saw it, but he didn’t curse her entire bloodline either so she took it as a win.
But where the vigilantes go, trouble follows. The cafe gets robbed at least twice a week. Well, robbed is a strong word. For example, last Monday when a little bit like this:
“Give me everything you’ve got!” scream the goons, waving around guns. Pointing both at Ava and at the few regulars. She recognized the voice (and the bright green question mark tracksuits), they are Riddler’s men. They have been in the cafe two-no three times already. They could just come and order like normal people, but they insist on doing the whole bit.
“Sure sir, what can I get started for you?” Ava replied, not even pretending to be scared.
“Eh… an iced latte for me and…” he turned to the other two masked men, still pointing the gun at Ava.
“A matcha for me” Whispered the one to his right. He was built like a wall but has a surprisingly soft voice.
“Okey a matcha for Tony. Do you want something Ben?” He turned his left, lowering the gun bit. The shorter man just shakes his head
“You sure? The boss is paying” That seems to startle the man a little, but he shaked his head again. “Suit yourself”
“So an iced latte and a macha. Anything else?” Ava asked, entering the order in her tablet.
“No, that’s all.” He fully lowered the gun. He passed the weapon to the man he called Tony and pulled out a leather wallet. “Cash please”. The three of them approach the counter, looking a little ashamed.
“Of course” Ava smiled to herself. The goons are all the same, they act tough but they can be very reasonable. “That would be 12.65$. Can I get a name for the orders, please?”
“John and Ben.” The guy in the middle said. He didn’t look super happy to give their names, but it was too late to lie. Plus, Ava already knew their names from past “robberies”.
“Okay, your orders will be out soon, you are welcome to sit while I prepare them.” Ava pointed at the empty tablets. Of course, they choose the one further from the door and the windows. The other customers (Jerry and a teenage girl named Mary) didn’t even blink at the interaction.
They picked up their orders and left, but not before threatening to kill all of them the next time they came to the cafe. Ava saw them three days later, they ordered the same thing and even entertained her with a few easy riddles. Tony called it a “warm up” and she decided not to ask what they were warming up for.
Sometimes the vigilantes and the goons would enter the cafe at the same time. The first time it happened was really awkward for everyone involved, including Ava. It had the same vibe as finding your professor in a rave. You both freeze when you recognize each other and avoid eye contact like it could kill you. That led to the invention of the one and only rule in Been There, Done That: “any fight in the establishment will automatically ban all the people involved from the cafe”.
That's how the shop ended up becoming something like a no man’s land. You saw a Joker goon?, no you didn’t. Nightwing is patching up Red Hood in the bathroom? mind your own business. Not my circus, not my monkeys. Not that hard people.
After a long night of making coffees and keeping the peace, 6 am finally comes and Ava clocks out. Although, more often than not she ends up in the back keeping Clara company while she prepares the sweets for the day. That morning special was pain au chocolat, which sounded very posh but was actually very straightforward. After distracting Clara with the tales of the night, she managed to steal one from the first batch.
She quickly left the building through the backdoor, just in time to hear Clara’s confuse voice asking where the fuck when one of the pain au chocolat.
Ava’s commute back to her apartment was actually one of her favorite parts of the day. The morning rush hadn’t started yet, so she was able to sit in the metro car. She had her trusty earphones and 45 minutes till her stop so she could dissociate all she wanted.
She was ready to do just that when the metro car came to a sudden stop. Oh fuck, that’s a really, really bad sign. She looked around the carriage, in case she was the only one getting a bad vibe from this. The only other people were a homeless man staring at the ceiling, a woman and a man around their thirties dressed in smart suits staring at their phone and a teenager with a buzz cut and dark skin also looking around confused.
Ava made eye contact with the young man just as the lights turned off. The last source of light came from the phone of the lady, bathing her face in shadows. Soon after, her light also died, leaving the whole car in the dark. Oh great, this was just getting better and better by the second.
None dare to move. Ava was gripping her phone like her life depended on it (which, to be honest, probably did). Do I call the police? Batman? How to fuck do you even call Batman while being underground? Does the Bat Signal even work like that? Oh God this is how I die?
The door of the car opened, and five figures entered the carriage. Ava tried to get a look at their faces, but the low light and the balaclavas they were wearing made it impossible to distinguish one from the other.
It was then when the last person entered the carriage. Unlike the others, he was easy to recognize. After all, not a lot of people made the fashion choice of wearing a suit cover in green question marks.
He chuckled. His voice echoing in the metal room.
“Now, would you like to play a little game?”