#i don't accept certain canon that kills my Maribel ship

[foramomentonly]

Chai

The beautiful, talented, funny, smart @adiwriting sent me this meet ugly prompt and she deserves all the good things, so I wrote it. I hope you like it!

Will post on AO3 later tonight.

Prompt: obsessed with the pretty barista who flirted with me and then made me the worst chai latte of my life

"Michael, I'm literally begging you. Don't put your life on the line like this!"

Michael rolls his eyes, hardly breaking his stride as Isobel jogs up to his side to pull at his arm.

"I'm not risking my life, Iz," he scoffs, "I'm getting coffee."

"From the worst barista in the world!"

Michael shakes his head, stopping in front of the Crashdown's long, gleaming windows to pull off his hat and attempt to fluff his long, wispy curls. Isobel clicks her tongue as she watches him, finally taking pity and batting his hands away to wrap a single lock around her finger, taming it into a perfect ringlet that she allows to hang over a wide, golden eye.

"I know you like this guy," she says firmly, "but his lattes are literal poison, so please ask him out this time."

Michael grins, practically skipping up the street to the alley-turned-outdoor-cafe and heading straight to the order window cut into the side wall of the adjacent building, Isobel trailing wearily behind.

At the window, a man with dark eyes and a full mouth leans on his forearms on the sill, messy strands of brown hair falling across his forehead. The sleeves of his tee shirt are tight against his shoulders and arms. He scans the open air cafe half-heartedly, searching for tables in need of bussing or an unhappy customer. The grimaces after first sips and mostly full, pushed aside cups are evidence enough of general dissatisfaction, but the man doesn't seem surprised or chagrined. He looks resigned, bored even; that is, until Michael shuffles up to the window belt buckle-first, his half-unbuttoned flannel a deep V down his chest.

"Michael," the man says with a slow smile, rising up and pressing his hips against the little half door below the window to lean farther out towards his customer. "Let me guess: chai latte?"

Michael winks and pulls out his wallet, slipping a five dollar bill across the sill beneath two long fingers.

"You know me so well, Alex."

Alex takes the cash and drops Michael's change into his waiting palm, eyes darting over Michael's shoulder to Isobel behind him.

"Anything for you?" he asks, and Isobel snorts.

"No, thank you," she sings, "I like my stomach lining intact."

Michael glares over his shoulder, but Alex just laughs.

"I know," he says with a shrug. "I'm lucky to still have this job. The owner's a friend."

"DeLuca?" Isobel asks, suddenly pressed against Michael's back in interest.

"Yeah," Alex replies. "She needed some temporary help and I needed something to do after my discharge."

He points to his worn shirt, to the faded Air Force logo spread across his chest. Then he tilts his head, smiling knowingly at Isobel.

"Should I tell Maria you said hello?" he asks casually, and Michael watches his cool, confident sister sputter and squeak her way to a soft, unnaturally high, "Sure!"

Alex nods, flashing perfectly white teeth in a broad grin, then turns his back to them, whirring and grinding sounds drifting out of the open window as he makes Michael's coffee. Michael elbows Isobel teasingly, eyebrows raised in a silent question, but she just scowls at him and smooths out a non-existent wrinkle in her shirt.

"I added something new," Alex says hopefully when he returns, sliding a hot cup with a disturbing amount of foam resting atop a dark, dangerous-smelling liquid. "Maybe you'll like it?"

Michael smiles and raises the cup to his lips as Isobel gags. Burnt espresso, a mouthful of cardamom, and something spicy that numbs his lips--chili powder, maybe?--sit on his tongue as he swallows it all in a single gulp, a weak smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Alex sighs.

"If you can wait like ten minutes," he says, shoulders slumped, "Maria's on her way and she'll re-make it for you."

Michael shakes his head, Isobel's perfect curl flying across his forehead, and he covers Alex's hand where it rests on the sill.

"No, no," he says with a squeeze to Alex's dry knuckles. "It's great. Thank you."

Alex stares at him, dark eyes warm and dancing across Michael's face.

"Just ask me," he says softly.

"What?"

"Ask me out," Alex repeats in a low voice. "I'll say yes and you won't have to pretend to like my coffee anymore."

A broad, dopey smile spread across Michael's face. While he's distracted, Isobel dumps the latte into the trash.

"Go out with me tonight?" Michael breathes.

Alex grins and leans half out the window to take Michael by the back of the neck and pull him into a lingering kiss; chaste, but promising as Alex's fingers stroke through Michael's curls, tugging his head back so that Alex can offer a slip of tongue across Michael's bottom lip.

"Ok," Alex whispers against Michael's lips when they pull apart.

From behind him, Maria's sharp voice suddenly calls out, "Alex, why the fuck is the cayenne pepper out?"

Alex grimaces, Michael laughs, and Isobel jumps, running a hand through her hair and shoving Michael out of her way as she crowds the window, suddenly desperate for service.

#malex #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell nm #roswell nm fic #meet uglies #isobel evans #maria deluca #maribel #i don't accept certain canon that kills my Maribel ship #you cannot sink it they cannot take it from me #malex ficlet #ficlet