Supernatural Fluff and perhaps some smut. I apologize for never uploading in advance. Also I apologize for shortness of one shots. Oh and some preferences
P.S. There are too many good pictures of the boys with coffee.
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I worked in a little coffee shop in New York City. My boss lets me run the place most of the time. My apartment is the size of a closet, but there is still enough room for a bathroom, mini-kitchen, and a pullout bed. I still don't know how that works. My apartment is right above the coffee shop. I just have to go up some stairs in the back room and I'm there.
I was working the counter one day when two tall, handsome men approached the counter. The taller one was cute, but something about the shorter one caught my eye. I had to wipe my mouth to make sure I wasn't drooling.
"How can I help you two today?"
"Two coffees. Black," the shorter one let out gruffly. He seemed to be in a mood.
"Coming right up, sir," I let out, chipper as usual. I dealt with a lot of grumpy people in need of coffee, but I wasn't going to let it bring down my mood. I poured two cups of coffee and handed them to the two men.
"Here you go," I smiled. "That'll be $4.95. Careful, they're hot."
"I think we'll be alright," the taller one winked, handing over the cash. "Keep the change."
As they were walking off, I saw the taller one punch the shorter one in the shoulder.
"You could've been nicer to the barista," the taller one mumbled to the other one.
"Oh my god," Dean groaned. "You used the word Barista. And this is seriously the best coffee I've ever had."
"Right?"
I smirked at their appreciation of my coffee. I'm known in secret circles to make the best coffee in town. I'm glad they've realized this.
Other than these men, the shop was empty, so I could hear their whole conversation as they sat at one of the tables. I pretended to be washing different dishes and refilling the coffee maker as I eavesdropped.
"I just had to take a plane, Sammy," the shorter one grumbled. Tall one is Sammy. Got it. "Give me a break."
"There is no parking in any part of New York. Your car is safer at home."
"But my baby–"
"Dean," Sammy sighed. Dean. "Let's just get this case over with. Then you can get back to your stupid car."
"She is not stupid–" he shot back childishly.
"Dean," Sammy growled.
I giggled quietly at their interaction. Apparently they heard. They both looked over at me hand drying a coffee pot.
"Y'all have to be brothers," I giggled.
"Lucky guess," Dean chuckled, glaring at his brother.
"What're you boys in town for? You seem like outsiders."
"You don't sound too Yankee yourself," Dean shot back.
"I moved up here a couple months ago," I smirked back. "I'm from Tennessee."
"Kansas. We're here for work. You actually may be able to help us. Do you know anything about a murder that happened a few buildings down on 32nd street?" Sam asked, pulling out his FBI badge. Well, I did not expect that.
"Um, I saw the guy on my way to work every morning, but beyond that, I don't know him. I don't even know his name. I just know he works at the Duane Reade on the corner," I let out, a bit unsure. I wanted to be helpful.
"Did you ever notice anything unusual about him?" Dean inquired.
"Not really. He was actually pretty friendly. He'd wave at me every morning. Then again, that is strange for a New Yorker."
"Did you see him on your way to work the morning of the incident?"
"Depends. What day was that?"
"June 14. Roughly a week ago."
I thought back to last Tuesday morning. I remember seeing him that morning, but the mornings could all just run together.
"Yeah, I saw him," I told Sam. "Now that I think about it, he was acting a bit odd. I waved, and he didn't seem to recognize me. He glared even."
"Thank you, miss. You've been a big help," Sam smiled.
"What do you put in this stuff?" Dean asked, finishing his coffee.
"A barista never reveals her tricks. Great chefs never share their recipes," I smirked, winking.
"You boys have a good day now, ya hear?" I smiled as they stood from the table. Sam walked over to me as Dean left and waited outside.
"You seem alright. If you need anything, we should be in town all week. Dean's going to hate me for this, but I'm giving you his number. Use it or don't, I don't care. But in my opinion, you seem like the type of girl that would make my brother real happy," he smiled, sliding over a napkin with numbers scribbled on it.
"Wait a minute." I grabbed his forearm before he could walk away. It had clicked in my brain.
"You're John's boys!" I smiled. A look of terror and shock took over his face before he relaxed a bit and asked me a question.
"How do you know our dad?"
"Our dads played baseball together! My dad grew up in Kansas. When I was younger, I remember dad would always go on about his friend and his two boys! Why did your dad ever quit baseball? From what dad's told me, he knows his way around a baseball bat."
"Yeah... He sure does..."
"Listen, I won't keep you guys for long. You get back to your work. I might call. I might not," I smirked. "But if you need anything while you're in town, you know were to find me."
