Chapter Text
Prof. Iva Robotnik was not having a good day. She had started her walk home after work since the college was only a fifteen minute walk from her apartment. The sky had been cloudy but overall seemed like it would be uneventful.
It was pleasant until it started to drizzle so she changed her direction slightly to swing by the local coffee shop, the Mean Bean, to wait it out.
It was only five minutes away, but by the time she made it through the double glass doors it was pouring and the wind was lashing. She practically stumbled inside with five minutes to spare before they closed. She knew she was about to be kicked right back out again, but that second to spare away from the chaos outside allowed her enough time to catch her breath from running.
She knew she looked chaotic and had likely scared whoever was working. Her waterproof brown messenger bag with papers that needed grading was clutched to her chest and rain streaked her makeup. Her ginger Bob was also likely flat against her head as she wiped a hand over her face.
A deep voice called out across the room, “Are you alright, ma’am?”
Robotnik recognised the voice, sometimes it called out the orders but in her hurry to class and face blindness she was unable to put a name or face to the voice, especially since her glasses were streaked in rain that was still dripping off her hair.
She pushed them up onto her hair and made her way to the counter despite the world being blurry, “it’s hell out there.”
“No kidding,” the woman laughed softly, “I already cleaned the espresso machine but would you like a pastry or hot chocolate, on the house?”
Robotnik paused, blinking and squinting as she tried to see the woman’s face, “but aren't you closing in a few minutes.”
“Yeah, but don’t worry. I own the shop and say you can wait it out here, I don’t mind.”
Robotnik relaxed as she took a seat on the barstool and began to wipe her glasses off with her shirt only to make it much worse. She squinted at the name tag but was unable to read it thanks to her wet hair still streaking down her glasses lens despite her attempts to clean them.
The same warm voice spoke again, “no worries, take your time ma’am. I’ll get that hot chocolate ready for you.”
Robotnik was finally able to wipe her glasses off with a napkin, not the best idea but one of her only options, and slide them back on. The blurry shape of the barista came into full view, she felt her eyes go wide. The barista was drop dead gorgeous.
She had dark hair that had an almost rich purple sheen to it and the deepest brown eyes the professor had ever seen. Robotnik felt bad for staring but her pale shirt highlighted every gentle curve. The professor banged her fist against her head trying to stop herself from being such a creep.
Of course she had seen the barista before, but she had never talked to her directly or properly looked at her. She couldn’t decide if it was better she had never been kept up at night by those gorgeous brown eyes or worse because she had never seen someone so stunning.
The professor stared, barely blinking as she watched the woman prepare her hot chocolate and slide a cinnamon roll across the counter before taking one for herself.
“So,” the barista, A. Stone as her nametag read, “why are you out so late?”
Robotnik waved a hand, “it’s not that that late for me really, I just got caught in this freak storm on my way home from work.”
“Oh, you’re a professor at the college, right?" Stone smiled as she nibbled at her own treat, “I remember you rushing around to get your coffee.”
Robotnik tried not to blush at the idea of being memorable enough to be recognized and looked down at her hot chocolate as he took a sip. It was warm and rich and she couldn’t help but let out a pleased noise as she took another.
She drained the cup before she even realized it.
Stone took the cup back and began to wash it while Robotnik finished her cinnamon roll.
“Hey,” the barista looked over her shoulder at the still soaking professor, “My apartment’s just upstairs and the weather app says the rain is going to turn to sleet in a bit. Want me to grab you some dry clothes and a towel?”
“Nono, it would be pointless to dry off, I can get home no problem. Don’t even have to worry about icy roads, I’m walking.”
Stone furrowed her brow, deep brown eyes filled with worry, “that doesn't sound safe at all.”
Robotnik faltered, those eyes somehow making her question, “I’ll be fiiiiine,” she flapped a hand in dismissal of the worry but even she didn’t sound sure anymore.
“Look ma’am,” the barista started and then hesitated, “I can grab some blankets and pillows and set you up down here in one of the booths, or you can stay in my guest room,” she paused to reconfirm herself by glancing outside to see wind and rain pelting the glass windows of the cafe, "but I can’t in good conscious recommend you go out there.”
Robotnik bit her lip and promptly caved. Some hardened professor she was, agreeing to go home with the first pretty girl who was nice to her.
“Disaster lesbian,” Robotnik chided herself under her breath as she followed Stone up the small staircase in the back of the cafe that was hidden behind an employees only door.
Not only was she provided with dry clothes and a place to sleep, Stone also handed her a new tooth brush and a towel.
“Bathrooms down the hall if you need it,” the barista said with a soft smile, “night, professor.”
“Thanks,” Robotnik repeated before adding, “Night.”
She shut the door and hurried to get changed, the wet clothes had started to get very cold against her skin and it was driving her crazy.
Luckily her undergarments had stayed dry, the rain had soaked into her top layers of clothing.
She tugged on the shirt first and gawked at her reflection. Robotnik stared in the mirror, face bright pink as she stared at Stone’s shirt on her thin body. It hung off her frame in the same way boyfriend shirts hung off heroines in romantic movies. No! That was an inappropriate line of thought!
It smelled like tiramisu. Did that mean Stone smelled like tiramisu? Oh,could she get more perfect?
The professor collapsed back on the bed with a sigh and rationalized that a woman this pretty would never date her. And that the chance that the barista was secretly a serial killer wasn't zero.
Robotnik sighed as she tucked herself into the blankets, grateful Stone had talked her into staying, even if it did mean she was possibly going to be another victim of a hypothetical serial killer. She left her eyes fluttering closed and was asleep in minutes thanks to the sound of the falling rain.
Across the hall, Stone was not asleep. She was pacing her the length of her bedroom wondering what the hell had possessed her.
The woman she has been crushing on for three years had not only burst into her coffee shop for refuge from a storm, but was now sleeping in her apartment in her shirt! The barista ran a hand through her floppy hair, a few fingers grazing across the short strands of her sidecut.
Stone wanted to scream, to curse herself for making it so accidentally personal thanks to her crush on the professor. It wasn’t fair to Robotnik, she was simply trapped here and had no intentions of returning any feelings to her.
Stone flopped down on the bed with a thump and buried her face in her pillow. She could survive one night and the following morning. Closing her eyes, the barista eventually fell asleep.
The next morning, Stone woke early as usual and quietly padded down the hall to start breakfast for herself and her guest. She had just put the first waffle in the maker when she heard the shuffle of socked feet enter the room.
Stone turned to smile at the professor and felt her breath hitch when she Robotnik wandered into the kitchen wearing her old band shirt over his brown skirt. The taller woman yawned as slid into a chair, “my sweater wasn't fully dry yet, hope you don’t mind.”
Stone tried not to blush but hoped the older woman would see it as embarrassment of seeing her almost drowning in the shirt, “course not. Breakfast is almost ready, hope you like waffles.”
“Love ‘em,” Robotnik smiled at the woman’s back, trying not to ogle the way her muscles flexed and the small roll of fat moved with them, it was art. The whole woman was a being of pure art.
The two talked over their fluffy, golden waffles, conversation flowing easily as if they had been friends for years. Robotnik had just stuffed her last bite into her mouth when she heard Stone laugh. She tried not to let her jaw drop at how beautiful the sound was.
The professor wished she could have stayed in that warm kitchen forever but eventually Stone had to open the shop and she had to head to the campus to finish grading papers and prepare for her first lecture. The two women parted ways with Robotnik feeling happier than ever.
As the day dragged on, it was clear the professor was distracted as she taught her third class of the day and both she and the students knew it. She had long since finished the latte Stone had sent her with and the second one she had popped round to grab on her lunch break. She was properly caffeinated to get through the lesson but her mind kept filling with only images of the purple haired barista and her soft features.
The professor wanted to run out of class and ask her on a date while simultaneously wanting to curl up in her bed and scream into a pillow.
She barely made it through the day and was shoving open the class doors to the Mean Bean before she even knew she was out of the science building. The professor’s eyes locked onto Stone’s as the barista gave her a wide toothy smile.
Robotnik ended up sitting on the same barstool as before chatting with her anytime she had a free moment or just watching as the barista expertly pulled shot after shot. That was how her days went. Finish the last lecture of the day and book it before students had even finished packing up their stuff just so she could beat the student studying rush and get a few minutes of Stone’s time. Soon she was coming in every lunch and timing her breaks in class around Stone’s breaks so they could just talk instead of being interrupted by a customer
She knew she had fallen hard and she had no idea what she was going to do about it.