#Them being schmoopy is the highlight of my day

[helplessavacado]

OLD PEOPLEEEEEEE

Finished this as well. 《Commissions open》

[sylvanfreckles]

Chemistry

This is entirely and forever the fault of @angelfishofthelord and their “The Genre You Struggle With” challenge.

And thus, I present, a schmoopy, silly, rom-com style epoch of the first meeting of Sam and Sam’s Blurry Wife (from the finale). 

Summary: A coffee shop, a sprig of mistletoe, and a barista who just might be Santa’s little helper...looks like Gabrielle and Sam are learning a little more about Chemistry.

* * *

“Good morning, Professor!”

Gabrielle D'Angelo raised a hand in greeting at Nico, the morning barista at Renegade Coffee. She had to duck a little bit to avoid the excessive use of tinsel around the door, but once inside the warm coffee shop she could almost forgive the sheer ton of glitter and sparkle and twinkle around her.

Almost.

“You certainly went all out,” she commented as Nico set a tall, steaming cup of her usual morning order on the counter. “It's barely December and this place looks like a Hallmark exploded in here.”

“Well, you know,” Nico shrugged. “Gloria went a little nuts. She downsized to an apartment this summer, so we get all the decorations that won't fit in her new place.”

“Uh-huh,” Gabrielle nodded. She couldn't help but notice the row of nutcrackers on top of the display case. They were all in different little service uniforms—like a postman, milkman, garbage collector, teacher. She pointed at them, eyebrows raised. “No barista?”

“Some people have no taste,” Nico replied with a haughty sniff before breaking out in a dimpled smile. “What else can I get you, Professor?”

Gabrielle leaned down to study the pastries in the case. She liked that Nico always called her Professor, even though she wasn't teaching this year. It sounded better than “textbook revisionist”, which was her actual profession. “Cheese danish?”

“Coming up. I'll bring it out to you when it's warm.”

She raised her coffee cup in toast and left a ten-dollar bill on the counter. That would cover the coffee, pastry, first refill, and her tip...for now. If she couldn't get through Dr. Adair's notes on the taxonomy of noble gases she was going to need more than this. Not even Nico's secret whiskey flask could get her through Dr. Adair's notes on the taxonomy of noble gases.

Gabrielle made her way to her favorite booth in the corner and began unloading her rolling laptop case. Well...it wasn't actually a case. More of a plastic milk crate on a portable luggage dolly, with her laptop tucked in to one side. From the crate she unpacked three older chemistry textbooks, a half-dozen manuscripts held together by alligator clips, and a Hello Kitty pencil case that contained the pens and highlighters she'd need (shut up, it was lucky).

“Cheese danish for milady?” Nico offered, as soon as Gabrielle had unloaded and booted up her laptop. She accepted the little plate and absently took a bite from the warm danish, ignoring the fork Nico had placed at her side, and stared at the glowing logo as the computer slowly roused itself.

Her laptop was old, still a relic from her graduate days. She always meant to buy a new one when her tax refund hit every year, but something else came up. Car repairs, a friend's wedding, sewage line backing up into her bathroom...there was never enough money. If she could make the deadline on the textbook revisions, though, she should have enough for a new laptop and a new muffler. No more cable ties and duct tape!

As Gabrielle waited, computer slowly idling its way awake, she caught herself staring at the door, wondering if Hippy Man would appear today.

Hippy Man was...well, she really was supposed to be above these things. But with that hair and the little bit of stubble...hey, a girl could still dream, even if that girl had two doctorates and a Very Important Opportunity. Plus, he was probably taken. Or an asshole. Or both!

Hippy Man didn't come in as often as Gabrielle did, unless he was here the three days a week she let herself sleep past 6am. He didn't have a regular order, Nico and the others didn't know him by name, and he never stayed longer than the time he took to drink his tea of the day.

(She knew he favored Chai because he ordered it at least twice a week, and Nico put a cut little accent on when he called out a Chai latte...that was why she knew it, she wasn't snooping.)

The bell over the door jingled (and jingled...and jingled...looks like Gloria replaced the little shop bell with an entire harness of sleigh bells), and in walked Hippy Man. Well, speak of the devil and he shall appear.

He was in the blue flannel today, which was Gabrielle's favorite. The brown one washed out his complexion, and the yellow one was just a no. Between the flannel and the beanie he looked like some kind of beatnik poet, though the muscles in his forearms and the callouses on his hands spoke more to manual labor.

(She wasn't snooping! She was just...bored.)

“Chai latte today, sir?” Nico asked. Ah, good! Hippy Man was coming in regularly enough to start being recognized.

Hippy Man started back, staring from the board to Nico for a moment. Gabrielle wanted to roll her eyes...maybe this wasn't a small town, but it was a small coffee shop. Come to Renegade Coffee enough times and Nico would learn something about you. It happened. Just go with it.

“Yeah, uh, sounds great,” Hippy Man nodded. “Do you have any of those vegan blueberry muffins?”

“Saved one for you!” Nico replied cheerily. God, he was the best. Gabrielle ducked her head, pretending like she wasn't snooping. (Okay, so she was snooping a little bit.) Obviously Nico had noticed that Hippy Man only drank tea and ate the vegan muffins (ew). Nico had probably figured out the guy's entire backstory based on his morning orders.

The bright tones of the Windows theme alerted Gabrielle to the fact that her laptop had finally booted up. Gabrielle shook herself, crammed the last of her danish in her mouth, and started on the arduous process to getting her dinosaur of a machine to log on to the Renegade Coffee WiFi.

Hippy Guy always waited at the counter for his order, which just added to the weird. Most patrons took a seat, relaxed a little, but not this guy. He stood there, hands shoved in his pockets, bowed forward a little as though to hide his ridiculous height.

(Really, instead of Hippy Man maybe she should have called him The Moose.)

“Here you go, dude,” Nico announced, setting Hippy Man's beverage and muffin on the counter. “Enjoy!”

“Yeah, uh, thanks. You too.”

Gabrielle bit back a snort, covering it up with a sip from her coffee (Renegade's own Double Dark Dark blend, guaranteed the strongest coffee in the tri-county area. Hey, the taxonomy of noble gases wasn't a laughing matter). At least Hippy Man was as human as the rest of them.

She rested an elbow on the table and leaned her chin in her hand to watch Hippy Man blunder through an embarrassed apology/explanation for what he'd just said—even though Nico had heard “you too” so many times he didn't even react anymore—while she waiting for the little spinny thing to connect her to the internet. Dr. Adair had probably sent three more emails, each one trying to decide between “the order to which we assign these elements” and “to which order we assign these elements”.

In the corner of her eye she saw her screen go white and leaned back to look at it.

No connection.

Gabrielle frowned and tapped the WiFi icon again.

More spinning. She took a minute to straighten the manuscripts—Dr. Russel's additions to the chapters on heavy metals were probably the best she'd seen yet, especially considering Dr. Russel had her own proofreader and hadn't demanded to revise her entry dozens of times, like Dr. Adair.

The screen flashed white again. No connection.

“Hey, Nico?” Gabrielle called. She noticed Hippy Guy frowning at his phone, but ignored him for the moment (which was difficult). “Is the WiFi down?”

Nico poked his head out of the back, towel draped over his shoulder. “Sorry, Professor. It was acting up last night...guess it's still out there. Gloria said she'd call it in when she gets here.”

Gabrielle sunk down in her chair, biting her lip and staring blankly at her computer. She could always pull up the emails on her phone, she supposed. The textbook itself was in a shared online file so she wouldn't be able to work on that until the WiFi was fixed...but she could go through the manuscripts and make notes by hand. With a heavy sigh she slapped her laptop shut and tugged the first stack of paper over.

Oh shit. Hippy Man was watching her.

Gabrielle bent forward over the table, letting her dark hair fall forward like a curtain to cut him off from view. Sure, he was cute and all, but she didn't really want to get into this with him now.

Hippy Man was standing up.

Don't come over, don't come over, don't come over....

Hippy Man was walking over.

Dammit.

“Hi, I'm Sam,” Hippy Man said, holding his hand out.

Gabrielle blew out a sigh and accepted the gesture. “Gabrielle.”

Apparently that was enough for Hippy Man—Sam—and he pulled out the chair opposite. “So, you're a professor?”

“I'm not teaching at the moment,” Gabrielle hedged. Sam was looking at the books on her table, actually touching one of the old textbooks to turn it so he could see the spine. His eyebrows shot up.

Oh god. Here it comes. She could see the headline now...Local Himbo Knows More About Chemistry Than Distinguished Textbook Revisionist.

“You teach chemistry?” Sam asked.

“I'm...working on the textbook,” Gabrielle said. She braced herself for it. Every time she met a guy—at least the tall, ruggedly handsome, flannel-wearing, beatnik-poet-looking ones—they were always intimidated by her work. Or they broke it down to something less (no, it wasn't the same as his mom putting together the family newsletter...yes, she did have a degree in chemistry...no, that didn't mean she could break bad or whatever, and no, she didn't know how to make meth!).

“That's incredible!” Sam said. He actually had the textbook open, caressing the table of contents. “I think I used this edition my sophomore year—is this the one you're revising?”

Gabrielle stared at him. “Well...we're about three versions ahead, but we're going back to that edition for the section on Amphoterism, Peterson really didn't do it justice even if he did have tenure at the time.”

Sam's eyebrows had shot up even higher, almost into his beanie. Gabrielle had to laugh at herself. “Sorry, shop talk.”

“It's okay,” Sam gently closed the textbook and placed it back on the stack reverently. “I see you in here a lot, you just always seem so busy. I didn't want to disturb you.”

Gabrielle shrugged. She had a lot of work to do. Coming out to Renegade Coffee to do it just felt better than working at home, with nothing but her beta fish to distract her. “And how about you, chai-tea-and-vegan-muffin-man? What do you do when you're not telling Nico to enjoy his meal?”

Sam blushed and stared down at the cup in his hands. God, he was cute, up this close. He even had dimples. “It's just a reflex,” he said defensively. She giggled—actually giggled, like an idiot in a rom-com. Instead of making Sam blush even harder, he peered up at her through his bangs and unleashed a devastating smile.

“So?” Gabrielle insisted. “What do you do?”

“This and that,” Sam shrugged. “Mostly pest removal.”

“Yeah?” she took a sip of her coffee. It was almost cold now...this was the point she usually drank the rest of it in one long shot, but she decided to savor it this time. Nico had snuck in a pump of peppermint flavor, and while she would normally beat him with edition three of A Modern Approach to Chemistry she was willing to forgive him this time. It was almost Christmas. “So, like, mice and roaches and stuff?”

Sam gave a halfhearted shrug. “More...specialized.”

Gabrielle felt her own eyebrows rise. “Specialized pest removal? What, like...coyotes in the crawlspace?”

He held up a hand, forefinger and thumb about a centimeter apart. “Almost. It's...complicated. I'm kind of doing it on the side, taking some time off to deal with...personal stuff.”

Shit, Gabrielle could understand that. When her widowed father had gotten remarried she'd taken almost a year to work with a pharmaceutical company in Canada. She loved her new step-father, sure, but it was hard to see anyone else in her mother's place.

Nico stopped by the table, a fresh coffee in one hand and a hot tea in the other. “On the house,” he explained. “Gloria will be in in about twenty minutes, she said she already called the internet guys.”

“Thanks, Nico,” Gabrielle smiled. She threw back the rest of her coffee in one long pull and set the empty cup to one side before tugging the new, hot cup close.

Nico was staring at her. Well, he was staring from her to Sam and back again.

“What?” Gabrielle demanded.

He pointedly looked up.

For the first time, Gabrielle noticed there was mistletoe hanging from the light fixture above her head.

“Nico!” Gabrielle moaned.

“Oh, sorry, I didn't...see that,” Sam protested. He tried to scoot his chair back but Nico had stuck a foot behind it.

“Either you kiss her or I kiss you, big fella,” Nico said, winking.

Face burning with embarrassment, Gabrielle looked over in time to see Sam give a helpless shrug. He shuffled sideways into the booth next to her and gently caught her chin with one hand.

“Merry Christmas, Gabrielle,” he whispered, leaning down to press his lips to hers.

Her stomach did a little flip, which had nothing to do with the coffee she'd just down, and she found herself unconsciously leaning toward him when he pulled back.

Gabrielle blinked, staring up at the man who was now sitting beside her. “What was that?”

Nico snatched up her empty cups and gave her a wink. “That, my dear Professor, was Chemistry.”

* * *

The challenge:

-Must not deviate into your usual preferred genre of writing (I normally write hurt/comfort, action, and suspense, so this was romance/rom-com)

-Must be written in third-person (done!)

-For added difficulty, add an essential original character (pick between Gabrielle as the OFC version of Sam’s Blurry Wife or Nico the barista as Santa’s little helper)

-Use less than ten tags (not including character/relationship tags) (is “chemistry words” a tag? I looked them up)

-For extra added difficulty write for a ship you hate (Sam/SBW is one I hate if SBW isn’t Eileen...but I named her Gabrielle because I also hate Sabriel)