the cohort wouldn't function without coffee adepts, a memory rings clear in your head. and what kind of coworker would you be if you didn't take a suggestion every now and then?

gideon has been having a very normal day insofar. she's served her cohort regulars, a few meeting parties (in which she has to brew a lot of coffee pretty fast), a few scary army higher-ups, nobody with any odd orders and nobody particularly eye-catching.

until you. fuck her life, gideon swears by the rock that won't ever be rolled away, you're an angelic who fell straight down to stumble upon the cafe. she can't figure you out like everyone else - her mind is blank of the chai teas or the long blacks or the iced lattes with extra whip like she can usually guess. an enigma.

she leans forward onto the counter as you approach, flexing her arms faux-subtly, putting on her best "this-isn't-just-a-customer-service-face-please-ask-me-out-I-love-you" grin and praying that you're not a scary higher up (or worse... not getting the hint).

"what can I get you?"