Baby ficlet for Fantasy Pretzel Week day 6! Rated T. Fluff and Smee. 1.3k.
Day Six: Prompt: Coffee Shop trope in the Enchanted Forest.
“Are you entirely sure about this?”
Emma wavers at the top of the ladder, and grunts her assent through a mouth full of nails as she lines up the hammer for another go.
“I mean, coffee. It doesn’t even sound tasty.”
Rolling her eyes, she spits the remaining nails into her hand and looks down at where her so-called friend is holding the rickety ladder steady, her brow furrowed.
“Trust me on this, Mary Margaret. It’s going to be huge.”
There’s a burst of laughter from the building to their right as the door swings open, and both women turn to look as a man stagger out into the street, slightly the worse for drink going by the way he sways towards them.
“What’s this then?” he slurs, pausing next to Mary Margaret and squinting up at the sign Emma’s just nailed in place. “Robin got competition has he?”
“Depends,” Emma says, eyeing the man’s disheveled appearance and long leather duster distrustfully. “Don’t know if I want his clientele.”
She expects the man to reel back at that - spit on the ground and walk away, in the time honored tradition of all the men she’s shot down - but instead he sways a little closer, peering at her shrewdly from beneath expressive black brows.
“I’ll wager you’ll find out,” he says, and drops into a ridiculous bow that has Mary Margaret blushing. “Best of luck, ladies. I suspect you might need it.”