Chapter Text
Charlie Swan was a boring man. A basic, boring man. He knew it, his daughter knew it, and his ex-wife sure as hell knew it. But he liked it like that. He liked going to work everyday and dealing with animal attacks and drunk teenagers. He liked his steady routine of black coffee, police cruisers, and blueberry pie at the Carver Cafe. Okay, maybe he didn’t like this new boy Bella kept running off with, but other than that he had no complaints. Nothing could rock his steady rhythm. Except for you.
The first time he saw you he was sure he was dreaming. It was that weird space where you can’t tell what’s real and what’s not–nearly midnight, right before the cafe closed, and you were backlit by the TV in a way that was almost intoxicating. You were new to the town, Charlie was sure of it. He would’ve noticed you a long time ago if you weren’t. Charlie sat in his corner booth, at the same place he always does, and sipped his water without even bothering to look at the menu. Steak and salad. Every time. You walked over to him and smiled in a way that had his heart lurching out of his chest. He palmed his chest quickly and exhaled. Whoa. That was a new feeling for him.
“Chief, what can I get for you?” you asked, leaning down towards him. You already knew who he was. That thought excited him a little bit too much.
“Hi. Steak and a chef’s salad please. Medium rare.”
“Coming right up.” You took his menu and slipped it under your arm.
He spoke before he even realized it: “Are you new around here?”
You stopped walking and grinned at him. Your eyes were unreal . They pulled him in in a way that made him almost uncomfortable. The air around you was practically singing.
“Is it that obvious? Yeah, I am.”
He found himself smiling as you told him your name (a beautiful name) and was suddenly aware of how close you were to him. You were young, late 20s maybe, and absolutely, positively no good for him. Sweet as sugar.
You left his table with a laugh and went back to attending customers. Charlie watched you zip around the tiny space, refilling the few people’s drinks that were left and could not stop staring at you. Magnetic, absolutely. He didn’t even realize he was the last one left until you quietly gave him a to-go box and his check.
“Sorry, Chief. We close in a couple minutes. But the line cooks told me this was your favorite–hopefully that makes up for me kicking you out.”
You laughed again and his stupid heart did the stupid thing out of his stupid chest again. He was way too old to be acting like this. Charlie took the check and left a good tip. It was the least he could do after you triggered a mid-life crisis in him. He peeked into the box and internally smiled. Blueberry cobbler. Of course. As he stood up to leave, you waved goodbye and affection poured out of him before he could stop it.
“See you later, Chief Swan.” you said, putting his money in the register.
“Thanks for the meal, sugar.”
And there it was. Sugar. It just stuck. You overtook his life with your sweetness and he couldn’t stop it. Not that he wanted to, anyhow.
As he walked back to his cruiser, cobbler in hand, he laughed at himself and shook his head. He was definitely too old for this. Get a grip, Charlie. Talk about mid-life crisis. And he got in his cruiser and drove, thinking of you the whole way home.