Chapter Text
The bell above the door of The Bastion Bakery didn’t just ring; it pleaded for mercy. It was 7:00 AM, and the morning rush was already in full swing. Behind the counter, Arnaud was gripping the edge of the cash register like his life depended on it. He looked one minor inconvenience away from retreating into the walk-in freezer.
"Arnaud, stop trembling, you’re making the customers nervous," Jean called out from the back, his hands covered in flour as he slid a tray of croissants into the oven. "Jacob! How are we on the lattes?" Jacob, ever the professional, was mid-pour, creating a perfect leaf pattern in a cup of oat milk. "Doing great, Jean! Well—mostly great." He glanced sideways. At the second machine, Karl was currently having a staring contest with a bag of coffee beans that refused to open. Blücher stood behind him, arms crossed, looking like a disappointed drill sergeant.
"Use the scissors, Karl," Blücher said calmly. "Violence is not a brewing technique." "The bag is mocking me!" Karl hissed, finally ripping it open with enough force that a few beans went flying, narrowly missing a very confused Ferryman who was waiting for his espresso.
Outside, the screech of tires announced the arrival of the morning supply run. Barry hopped out of the delivery van, swinging a crate of fresh milk over his shoulder with a grin. "Package for the bravest baker in the city!" Barry shouted, dodging Sharpshooter, who was already leaning against the brick wall checking his watch. "You're three minutes late, Barry," Sharpshooter noted, tapping his clipboard.
Inside the shop, the atmosphere was a weird mix of cozy and combustible. Jacob handed a cup to the American Ferryman, who nodded his thanks, while in the corner booth, Major Dopfer was already engaged in a deep, hushed conversation with a man who looked like he hadn't seen the sun since the 1800s.
Arthur Wellington stood by the pick-up counter, observing Jacob’s form with a critical eye. "The foam is slightly too dry, Jacob. A barista trainer's work is never done, it seems."
Jacob sighed, but kept smiling. It was just another Tuesday at the Bastion. No one was dying, the bread wasn't burnt yet, and Karl hadn't broken the coffee steamer.
Or maybe Karl had broken the coffee steamer…
Or did he…
After ages of working in The Bastion Bakery since 7 am, they finally had their lunch rush in the afternoon. As everyone was eating, Blücher decided to check out the coffee steamer if it was in fact alright because Karl was the one that used the coffee steamer, which made Blücher not trust Karl even more when he was by himself all alone. Blücher opened the door to where the coffee steamer was at.
Blücher was stunned to see that the coffee steamer was fully destroyed; as if a teddy bear was torn apart. “KAAAAAAAAARL!!!!” Blücher yelled out Karl’s name. “Ohhh, looks like someone is in big big trouble, and that ain’t my problem…”, Jacob teased Karl which made Karl look down in embarrassment. “Shut up!” Karl yelled back, and went to go meet Blücher, which is behind the counter where all the coffee steamers were put. “Karl… You really have some explaining to do… Why is this coffee steamer.. Broken.?” Blücher questioned Karl, with his arm crossed. “Sir… I promise you, it was just an accident… It wasn’t on purpose.” Karl explained, which made Blücher very sceptical about Karl whether he was actually telling the truth or not… (or else he gonna beat his ass)
Blücher then dismissed Karl and told him not to do it again, because if he sees the same thing that Karl did, you know what he is gonna do. Karl turned around and walked back to where the others were. As Karl sat down next to where Jacob is sitting, enjoying his meal very slowly. “Hey man, you alright Karl?” Jacob questioned. “Do I look okay?!” Karl barked at Jacob. “Sheesh… You don’t need to bark at me, beau..”, Jacob tries to calm down Karl, but it takes some time to make Karl chill down… Like a whole 2 hours…
After two painstaking hours of sullen silence, the sharp edge of Karl’s mood finally began to dull. He sat hunched over the counter, aggressively staring into his mug as if the remaining coffee grounds had personally offended him. Jacob watched him with an amused smirk, leaning his forearms against the counter beside him. He casually nudged a fresh, warm pastry into Karl's field of vision. "You know, if you glare at that mug any harder, it might catch fire. Then Blücher really will have a reason to bark at you," Jacob said softly, his voice carrying that familiar, unbothered warmth.
Karl grunted, looking from the pastry up to Jacob’s face. He let out a long, shuddering sigh—the official signal that his rage had finally run out of fuel. "It wasn't even my fault," he muttered under his breath, though he didn't hesitate to pick up the pastry. "The steam valve was already sticking yesterday."
"I know," Jacob chuckled, resting his chin on his palm. "We all know. But somebody had to take the fall, and you just happened to be the one holding the pitcher when it went pop." From across the floor, Barry strolled by carrying a fresh stack of clean towels, catching the tail end of the conversation. He didn't even slow down as he tossed a casual grin over his shoulder. "Hey, look at the bright side, Karl! At least you didn't blow up the entire espresso machine this time. Progress!"
"Keep walking, Barry, or the next thing blowing up will be your delivery schedule," Karl snapped back, though the usual venom was missing from his tone. Arnaud, who was busy reorganizing the display case near the front, let out a soft laugh at the exchange. The heavy tension that had hung over the shop following Blücher's interrogation was officially gone, replaced by the comfortable, chaotic rhythm they were all used to.
Hope that tomorrow won't be that chaotic... Right?..