Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The room felt like it was pressing into him, his bones were fissuring under the pressure. Every nerve alight, surely he isn't glowing but it felt so. Yet when he checked his wrist watch for the third time in five minutes he found he was the same lack luster man he walked in as. And as the same man he should know that checking his watch would not change the fact that the manager of Cobalt Sol Books is running six minutes and thirty seconds late. Caleb sucked in a steeling breath and forced his knee to still. At this rate he was likely to knock the table over and look even more a fool. Götter it isn't even warm in this room and his palms could fill a large pond. He needs something to fill his hands before he scratches holes into his sweater. Swiping his hands along his trousers, he made his way over to the cafe counter.

Apprehensive, he trailed his gaze over the menu. There was an overwhelming amount of choices of teas, coffees, juices, scones, tarts. Falling back on familiarity, he just settled on a black coffee and moved over to the ordering window. Behind the counter he could see a tall grey firbolg with striking pink hair cleaning their work station. He, thankfully, had enough self control to not outwardly wince at the bright hair. Scheisse, he could feel every hair on his body. 

"Ah. Sorry to bother you," Caleb paused for them to turn around. Pink irises met his own before he decidedly focused on the pattern carved into the buzzed portion of hair.

"Not a problem at all, what can I get you?" He could see the lazy smile on the firbolg's face, their calm demeanor washed over him and was a pleasant contrast to every other aspect of the space around the two of them.

"Uh, yes. May I have a black coffee? I have to admit, I am a tad overwhelmed by the ah..variety of drinks." Caleb allowed his eyes to flicker down to the name tag resting on the apron.
"Hello! My name is Caduceus (he/they)"

"Can I make a suggestion? You look like you might shake out of your boots it I give you anything caffeinated." Caduceus chuckled warmly. Caleb winced, he was absolutely right, the redhead cursed himself. Nott would have his ass if she were here now.

"Ah, bitt--please. I do not have any allergies so make what you think is best."
Caduceus' grin stretched further across his face.
"Okay, I'll start that. Give me just a minute."

As the taller man went about making Caleb's drink, the human let out a breath. It had been ten minutes and fifty-eight seconds since his interview was scheduled to start, and there was no sight of anyone but himself and the lanky barista. Maybe the manager would be apologetic enough to just give him the job without having to interview him? His resume is the closest to perfect as it can get and he had practiced this interview in his head thousands of times constructing different scenarios to play out. But this wasn't something he had thought of, the interviewer just not showing up? It was off script and it is making his skin feel tight and itchy. Maybe he should leave? Fake sick or lie about having an emergency? With how horrible he feels he likely looks sick. No, no. He needs this job. It will be paying for cat food and rent. He cannot keep letting Nott pay for everything.

"This should help with your nerves, chamomile and lavender with honey, and we just got these in they're brand new. Let me know what you think and if you need anything else I'll be just over here." Caleb was being handed a cup and a bundle of waxy paper.

He glanced up at the man,
"Danke for bringing this over. What do I owe you?"

"Nothing. It's on me." They gave him a warm smile. The firbolg seemed so tall when standing out in the open especially infront of Caleb. Peering down at him softly. Almost like a steady tree.

"Nein, please you are too kind. I don't want you to waste your money on me."

Caduceus' simply shook his head.
"It's not a waste. Money is meaningless at the end of the day. Besides..I have a feeling I'll be seeing more of you soon."
A Caleb finally made eye contact, he doesn't think he's ever seen that shade of pink before. But it suits his face nicely. As if queued Caleb saw a door swing open to the left of the cafe section and two women step out into the shop.

"Oh shit! I forgot about the interview. I'll have to talk to you later Yash." They both awkwardly paused before embracing and the taller of the two exited the building.

The manager (he would assume) made her way over to the table he was standing near,
"Alright, I'm sorry about being so late. Let's do this shit."

Chapter Text

Of the few interviews Caleb had found himself participating in, that would be the shortest and strangest one yet. Despite his nerves, Beau the Manager (as she introduced herself), gave Caleb the job with only a skeptical glare. Showed him the cash register, stock room, break room, and with an aggressive handshake sent him on his way with a paper print of his schedule.

Caleb let out a breath he wasn't aware he had been holding as soon as his soles met the sidewalk just outside the bookshop. As he passed by the last window of the ship his gaze met the barista's inside. The red head must have looked flustered, because the firbolg gave him a wide smile and wave. Something about the knowing look in those eyes gave Caleb a burst of confidence. He strode forward, fighting the childish idea to run to his apartment to share the good news.

Nott was as usual tinkering with some alchemical concoction in their kitchen, no doubt trying yet again to rid them of their rodent problem.
"Nott! Roommate meeting please! In the living room." Frumpkin threaded between his socked feet as he fixed his boots onto the shoe rack. Tidying Nott's shoes while he was there.
"Oh Caleb! I am NOT exploding the kitchen again! Goblin's promise! I was just well ah experimenting with the gas canisters again. Since that stinky cat won't pull it's weight! We ought to eat him Caleb!" Clambering off of the stool she was standing on, and shooing Frumpkin away from her own feet she made her way onto the couch beside him.
"I'm sorry for experimenting in the kitchen, it's just that, well it has more space than my side of the room and I know how you are about your things. I just didn't want to mess anything up."

Shaking his head, "It is okay my friend, I just wanted to let you know our luck is turning. There may be some changes happening soon."
"Wait! You got it?! I had every faith in you, but well," she speaks in a conspiratorial tone with a crooked hand covering her mouth, "I know how you are with people especially those judging you..."
He smiles ruefully, " Yes well. I had a bit of help today. And well, I think I might be able to turn this job into an advantage to my research."
Her eyes narrow and her nose almost touches his own, "You mean?"
He reaches his hands to clasp over the both of hers, "Yes. We should get a step closer to your change."
Her grin stretches across her face taking over her features.
"When do you start?"

Seven in the morning, his eyes open bleary-eyed and sleep fuzzy brain runs through his morning routine. Robe, bathroom, black coffee(almost out), hygiene routine, clothes (the same ones from yesterday until payday), feed Frumpkin (who is trying to trip him), then snag his bookbag that was packed last night. By the time the light hits his face, Caleb is awake. His walk is brisk, the wind twirling leaves and rustling his thin sweater. The October sky is attempting to cloud over, yet the sun fights through. By the time he is greeted with the chime of the door, the sun has bullied it's way through the cloud cover, revealing the last bit of the sunrise.

He takes his new place at the register, and awaits Beau the Manager. He waits, patiently. Until...he doesn't. Curiosity taking a hold of him, he looks under the counter. Tape, scraps of paper, pens, pencils, all manner of unorganized office supplies. His fingers brush something smooth, grainy, and rectangular. Extracting it from the very back of the under counter space, a book or manual of some sort. Dust billows from his breath. Regret sweeps over him as the dust invades his lungs. Coughing as he reads the cover 'Point of Operation System: Your Guide to Successful Operating',
maybe he wouldn't need training after all. His gaze swept over the store, empty, no point in standing around doing nothing.
Despite the yellowed pages, the condition of the spine told him that this book had never been opened. Well, perhaps a flippant flick of the pages, but even that had been a long time ago.

By the time Beau the Manager and her companion found him at the counter, Caleb had read the entirety of the book and was now organizing the accumulated supplies in a small container with drawers.
"I was worried you wouldn't be able to get the piece of shit but I guess I was right about you being creepily smart." His eyes dart up to her leaning against the counter. Eyeballing the book next to the register.
"Verzeihung? Piece of...ah. Yes the Point of Operation System. Very clever ma'am."
Her face scrunched into a sneer,
"Look, I appreciate the respect but don't ever call me that again. You don't have to respect me just because I run the joint. It's not that big of a deal."
"Ah what would you prefer? Miss Beau? Manager?"
"Just, fuckin, call me by my name. If we're going to see each other everyday I don't want it to be weird or awkward. Besides I didn't hire you because of the nervous nerd professor vibes. You've got something else going on with you and I think it can benefit both of us if you're here. So Caleb, call me Beau and don't ever call me ma'am, Miss, Miss Lionett, or Manager. Ever. We cool?"
Feeling exposed as if naked and pushed outside, Caleb did his best to breathe and reach out a hand.
"Ja, understood, Beau." She slapped his hand front back and then closed her own hand into a fist. He noncommittally bumped it with his own. As she walked away with her silent companion, he could feel eyes on him. Turning in that direction he was met with the firbolg waving him over.
"Don't worry, I was watching the doors while Beau caught you up to speed. There's still no one in the store yet. I have a favor to ask."
Skeptical but intrigued and definitely *not* motivated by the smells wafting over from the café.
"A favor?" A red eyebrow raised, the firbolg laughs heartily.
"Don't look so spooked, I am not in the business of poisoning anyone. I would hate to waste food like that."
Caleb looked at them dumbfounded.
"Oh right! The favor; you look hungry and I need these recipes
tested."
" I'm not too sure." Caduceus turned to pick up the tray of goods and tilted his head and looked at Caleb. Who for whatever gods forsaken reason let his guard down and gave in at record speed. "Ah well...no point in letting something go to waste." Caleb picked up a red and yellow muffin. Bursts of sweet yet tart jam made his eyes open wide.
"Caduceus. This is extremely good. But ah, I'm sure you know that."
"Well it's always nice to hear." They gave him a crooked smile, "But I did as you to try them not only to feed you but also get an honest opinion so?"
Caleb chuckled, "Ja fair enough. Ah well, this one might be a tad too tart for most."