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V iv and Tandri moved through the morning routine, easing around one another with low murmurs, careful not to touch, each exquisitely aware of the space the other occupied. Viv acted with unthinking economy—brewing, serving, greeting, and registering very little.

Neither of them noticed Thimble’s industry with his new cookware and ingredients until the smell of melting chocolate permeated the shop.

At a tug on Viv’s shirt, she looked down to see their baker anxiously clasping his flour-caked hands together. “Oh. Hey, Thimble.”

On the back table, golden crescents cooled in neat rows atop several racks. Thimble selected one and offered it to her. She took it with a nod. Flaky and yellow, the pastry’s buttery layers folded over in gentle curves. The smell was gorgeous.

She took a bite that almost melted in her mouth, at once rich with butter and impossibly light. Comparing these to a loaf of bread was like comparing silk to burlap.

“This… is incredible,” she managed. It was so good, in fact, that she only hesitantly followed up with, “But, this can’t have the… what was it?”

“Mm. Chocolate,” supplied Tandri, as she pinched off another corner and popped it into her mouth. She made a small sound in her throat and closed her eyes as she chewed.

Thimble made a get on with it gesture with his hands, his impatience evident. Viv shrugged, took another, bigger bite, and found the molten core of chocolate inside. The taste was nothing like what she’d sampled yesterday—sweeter, deeper, richer. Creamy and decadent, with a subtle spice.

“ Eight hells , Thimble!” she managed. Her mouth sang with the flavor of it. “How do you keep doing this?” She stared at the pastry in surprise, and then immediately had another bite.

Viv glanced over to find Tandri transfixed, chocolate smearing her lips, eyes huge and luminous.

“Thimble. You might not know this, but I, that is, we ….” Tandri’s tail swept in a head-to-toe gesture, “We respond strongly to all kinds of sensations. Including taste. And, well.”

Viv experienced that warm pulse again, and Thimble must have too, because he blinked and shivered.

“Whatever this is… it’s just about incapacitating.” The succubus sighed appreciatively.

“You were right before, Thimble,” said Viv. “We have got to get you a bigger kitchen.”

Tandri considered the available space. “Two stoves? Push out the wall?”

“I’ll ask Cal.” Viv glanced back at their chef. “In the meantime, what do you call these?” She polished hers off, licking her fingers for every last tender flake and chocolatey smear.

The rattkin shrugged and took one himself, testing it with a squeeze and nibbling one end.

“Leave it to me,” said Tandri, around another huge bite.

~Legends & Lattes ~

~Menu~

Coffee ~ exotic aroma & rich, full-bodied roast—⒈／⒉ bit

Latte ~ a sophisticated and creamy variation—1 bit

Any drink ICED ~ a refined twist—add ⒈／⒉ bit

Cinnamon Roll ~ heavenly frosted cinnamon pastry—4 bits

Thimblets ~ crunchy nut & fruit delicacies—2 bits

Midnight Crescents ~ buttery foldover with a sinful center—4 bits

*

FINER TASTES FOR THE

~ WORKING GENT & LADY ~

* * *

The quiet tension between her and Tandri had evaporated, and Viv almost thought she’d imagined their hazy morning dance. Thimble’s crescents predictably sold out within the hour, and he was already at work on a new batch.

Viv preoccupied herself with the restrictions of their small kitchen. What might Cal suggest, once she had the chance to ask for his thoughts? She kept glancing at the auto-circulator above and thinking that the answer might be nothing she expected.

“The usual, Hem?” she asked, when he stepped up to the counter.

Hemington leaned closer. “I do wish you wouldn’t call me that,” he said in an undertone.

She smiled, her eyes on her work. “Mmm. Is that a yes, then?”

“What I wanted to say is that the ward is nearly set. And yes, an iced coffee, please.”

“Oh, it is? On the house, then.”

“It should cover the premises and a few additional feet in a rough circle.”

“How will I know if it’s… gone off?”

“That’s the last detail.” He held his left hand out on the counter. “I’ll need yours, please?”

Viv didn’t hesitate, and placed her much larger one down, mirroring him.

He tapped with the first two fingers of his right hand on his left, and made several curling gestures and complex twists.

A blue light flared. Before the glow faded, he touched palm to palm with Viv and there was a brief fizzing, like beer bubbles against one’s lip.

“That’s it?” she asked, as he broke contact.

“That’s it. If the ward is triggered, you’ll feel a sort of gentle tug in that hand. It should be enough to wake you.”

“A gentle tug, huh?”

“Now, bear in mind, the ward only functions once. I’d have to reset it if it were triggered, but…. well, there it is.”

“Once should be enough.” She slid his drink across to him. “Thanks, Hem.”

He opened his mouth to object but shook his head instead. “You’re welcome, Viv.” He nodded and took his drink back to his table.

“What was that about?” asked Tandri.

“Just a little insurance.”

* * *

The following afternoon, Pendry reappeared in the shop, this time with his original, bizarre lute. Viv nodded encouragingly, glad to see him.

“So. Um,” he said. “I’ll stop if you don’t like it. Or if… if anyone complains.” He sucked his breath through his teeth as though bracing for a blow.

“It’ll be fine, kid. Here, start with one of these.” She handed him a Midnight Crescent, and he took it with a confused look. Pointing to his instrument, Viv said, “Also, I have to ask. What exactly is that?”

“Oh. This? Well, um, it’s… it’s a Thaumic Lute?

It’s… well, they’re sort of… new.” He pointed at the gray slab with silver pins beneath the strings.

“See, the Auric Pickup sort of gathers in the sound as it… uh… well, when the strings vibrate, there’s an…

um…. Actually, I don’t know how it works,” he finished lamely.

“S’alright,” said Viv, and waved him in. “Knock ’em dead. Figuratively, please.”

Blinking, he wandered into the dining area while taking a tentative bite of the pastry, and Viv smiled.

No sound arose for several minutes, and she figured he was finishing his food. Then she forgot about him as a line of customers formed in front of the counter.

When he finally began to play, she glanced up in surprise.

The lute wailed that same ragged, buzzing tone, but the music he played was more delicate than before—subtly picked with the slow lope of a ballad.

An additional presence underpinned, as though the notes reverberated in a larger space, with a thicker, warmer feeling.

Also, she could swear the result was quieter than his first, aborted attempt.

Viv didn’t know much about music, but now that she’d grown used to the kid’s occasional visits, the leap to this confident, modern sound didn’t seem so far anymore.

He’d been bridging the gap this whole time, and taken the obvious next step.

Pendry’s altogether unexpected style was… right. Especially here.

She and Tandri exchanged bemused smiles. Viv noticed that Tandri’s tail was subtly, metronomically swaying behind her.

Viv figured that was endorsement enough.

* * *

As the week wore on, Viv lived in constant anticipation of phantom tugs at her right palm. Hemington had explained that it would be gentle, but she imagined it as a fishhook embedded in her flesh that would yank sharply, jerking at her hand.

Nothing happened, though.

Her skin tingled as she envisioned it, but eventually the feeling of wary expectation faded.

* * *

Laney dropped by with increasing frequency, making many offers to trade recipes with their baker.

Viv always deferred to Thimble. The little old woman’s exasperation with his gestures and anxious blinking left Viv both amused and a smidge guilty for foisting her off on him.

She also thought his hand signals were at their most cryptic only when confronted with Laney.

The old woman always bought something, though.

* * *

The dire-cat appeared with more regularity. Viv sometimes felt the prickle of Amity’s regard and turned to find her perched in the loft like a sooty gargoyle, surveying the diners with disdain.

Tandri tried using treats to tempt the animal into claiming the bed they’d made for her, but Amity only ate them, made very deliberate eye contact, and then sauntered away with her tail high.

Viv discovered she didn’t mind having a watchful monstrosity around. Not one bit.

* * *

Viv and Tandri settled back into a comfortable equilibrium. There were no further picnics or walks home. Viv harbored a wistful ache that she didn’t examine too closely, and an almost cowardly relief that Tandri didn’t mention their evening at the park.

They stayed busy, and the days brimmed with good smells and unexpected music and companionable work. Her hopes for the shop had been exceeded in every regard.

That was enough… wasn’t it?

* * *

Tandri startled Viv by dropping some of her art materials on the table, including a bottle of ink, a slim brush, and one of the mugs.

“I have an idea,” she said.

Viv looked up from wiping down the machine. “I’m listening.”

“So, I think about this a lot. My first drink—I have it while I work. I take a sip when I want, and I make my cup stretch through the morning. I love that.”

Viv nodded. “Yeah, sure. I do the same.”

“Your customers…. They don’t have that.”

“ Our customers,” said Viv, but nodded again. “Okay. I’m with you.”

“Well, what if they could take it with them?”

“I’ve wished for that before, but….” She shrugged. “Never figured out a way to do it. So if you have…. ”

“We sell them a mug. And….” She turned the cup.

In Tandri’s flowing script, she’d written, VIV .

“We add their name. They can leave it here behind the counter if they like, but they own the mug. They can be on their way with a drink in hand, whenever they want. All they have to do is bring it back.”

“I think that’s perfect.” Viv rubbed her neck. “Honestly, I feel like a bit of a fool for not thinking of it myself.”

“You probably would have, eventually.” There was that warm pulse again, increasingly recognizable.

Viv was suddenly awash in an old feeling of fraught potential. A critical instant that hinged on the movement of a blade, the placement of a foot, a moment of trust extended or withheld. Failure to act was as much a decision as any other.

“You know, Tandri, this place is… really becoming as much yours as mine. You’re making it yours.”

Tandri looked dismayed, “I’m sorry, I–”

Viv winced and scrambled to explain. “That’s not what I mean! I mean, it wouldn’t be what it is without you. I’m glad it’s becoming yours. And I want to make sure you know that… that….” She fumbled her words and fell silent.

Into that confused pause, Tandri murmured, “You don’t have to worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

Viv suddenly found herself lost and alone on a dark road, abandoned by whatever guiding light had led her this far. “I… that’s… good. But what I wanted to say was….”

Really, what did she want to say?

Had she grown so complacent that she’d trust the outcome of this conversation to some mythical stone ? Wasn’t Tandri more important than that? Didn’t she demand Viv’s truest words, offered unambiguously?

The darkness bristled with dangers, some perhaps even worth risking.

Tandri straightened and forced a quick smile. “So. I’ll just add this to the board then, all right?”

“That’s… yeah. We should definitely do that,” Viv lamely replied.

Tandri backed away for them both, and Viv couldn’t decide if she was relieved or disappointed.