Chapter Text
Vincent glanced fervently at his watch, as he hurried down the street.
The Captain had been on his ass since the day before to get a set of reports filed, and he’d finally finished but was left only ten minutes to run for lunch before a meeting.
He’d decided to save himself the time a full and proper lunch would take, and instead settle for coffee to satiate his quickly exhausting body’s need for sustenance.
Recently transferred across town, he’d only noticed one coffee shop that wasn’t a goddamned Starbucks en route to work the previous morning.
Naturally, the Lieutenant hadn’t left work since that time.
He breezed through the doors of the cutesy shop and made his way hurriedly to the counter.
Luckily for him, the shop was remote enough; only a handful of patrons were scattered about, and there was no line.
There was no one standing by at the counter when he reached it, and Vincent’s eyes traveled to a barista absently cleaning a dish as he stared out the window.
“Excuse me?” He tried to sound as polite as possible, despite the resting irritation he felt at the last few days affairs.
The barista quickly turned to him, and Vincent was immediately stricken by pale blue eyes, piercing in the fashion they seemed to scan and evaluate him.
Then a small, polite smile spread across the man’s lips and he stepped up to the counter.
“How may I help you?” He asked in a faint Southern drawl.
Vincent blinked, trying to find his voice under the intense gaze. “Americano. Large.” He managed, hand drawing to his back pocket to remove his wallet.
The man gave a slight nod, punching something into the register and checking Vincent out.
“Name?” He asked, drawing out a cup and sharpies.
“Vincent.” The Lieutenant returned quickly.
The barista nodded as he turned to make the drink, and Vincent couldn’t help but drop his gaze along the lithe figure.
He moved with a sort of easy, calculated, graceful air that the detective was drawn to.
The man turned back to him, holding his drink, pale blond hair almost luminescent outlined against the broad window, giving him an almost angelic air.
It wasn’t until the barista cleared his throat that Vincent realized he must have been staring.
In his outstretched hand was Vincent’s coffee.
The detective took it quickly, giving what he hoped came across as a grateful smile and a nod, and hastily turned away to head back to work.
The young Lieutenant had a hard time keeping his attention on topic at his meeting, the coffee cup he fiddled with idly in his hands a consistent reminder of the strange man he’d met at the coffee shop.
He decided to drop by again when he was done at work.