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you can push your barista a shade too far. Hot or iced? You should remember what you ordered... Or else face dire consequences in the back room with your skirt flipped up over your back, on your knees before your mind rejects what your body is craving.\n\nIn this work of furry, anthropomorphic fiction, an unlucky - or lucky, depending on how you \"take\" it - poodle comes to learn this first hand from a fox whose charm has gone out the window. And she's in heat. What dog could deny a vulpine's will at The Coffee Stop? Sometimes, one doesn't have a choice.\n\n\n\nThis story is available for purchase via Kindle and Smashwords worldwide.\n\n\nSmashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/728276\n\n\n\nAn older piece (published last year) that has now been released on Smashwords! Enjoy! <3","description_bbcode_parsed":"Sometimes you can push your barista a shade too far. Hot or iced? You should remember what you ordered... Or else face dire consequences in the back room with your skirt flipped up over your back, on your knees before your mind rejects what your body is craving.
In this work of furry, anthropomorphic fiction, an unlucky - or lucky, depending on how you "take" it - poodle comes to learn this first hand from a fox whose charm has gone out the window. And she's in heat. What dog could deny a vulpine's will at The Coffee Stop? Sometimes, one doesn't have a choice.
This story is available for purchase via Kindle and Smashwords worldwide.
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/728276
An older piece (published last year) that has now been released on Smashwords! Enjoy! <3","writing":"Coffee Stop\nArian Mabe\n\nCover art by Furrine\n HYPERLINK \"http://www.furaffinity.net/user/furrine/\" http://www.furaffinity.net/user/furrine/ \n\n\nOnce the lunch rush came to an end at The Coffee Stop, the baristas could finally relax in a rare moment of pure and adulterated bliss. A red fox, dressed in a white shirt and unusually smart black trousers with an iron crease down each side, hummed a tune to himself as he wiped a damp cloth over the main counter. The cloth left a trail of moisture in its wake, beads of water clustering together as the fox carefully scooped up pastry crumbs to deposit in the bin below the counter. He was meticulous in his task and took pride in how he kept the coffee shop pristine at all times. Well, whenever customers allowed him to pay the shop the due time and diligence it deserved. A smile tugged at his lips. He loved nothing more than quiet permeating the air, the aroma of coffee grounds tickling his nose.\n\nHe had sent the part-time crowd home on weary paws a short while ago, leaving Nico almost complete alone behind the counter, his lithe build slim enough that anyone outside the shop may not have seen him at all. But that was just how he liked it, when it came right down to the fact. The regulars were all right and some of the staff under him but college kids and those working their way through university, with little to no dedication to him or the job. If Nico was going to do a job, he was going to do it well and had no tolerance to anyone who did not abide by the same manner of thought. Only one other employee pottered about the coffee shop, an older, female rabbit coming up to retirement age. Mary did not look her age in the slightest, however, and Nico warranted that they would see her at The Coffee Stop for many years after he moved on, whether she worked there or not.\n\nThere were stars in the fox's future. Bigger plans taunted him, dancing just beyond his grasp, far more alluring than serving coffee day in and day out. Though young, Nico had finished university the summer prior and had his sights set on London as winter crept closer, the bright, city lights and bustle calling oh-so-sweetly. He should be proud of his achievements.\n\nHe cast his mind back as he worked, tail flicking against his legs. He had a degree in Marketing and Communications, joint honours, which set him in good stead for many positions, yet could not land the work he desired. \n\nIt was a waiting game.\n\nPausing, he took a moment to tug his phone from his pocket, scrolling through the job boards to check if anything new had popped up, though he had checked once that day already. He pulled at the stud earring in his left ear and smoothed own his russet fur, a sigh escaping him against his will.\n\nWorking at the coffee shop was all well and good but he wished it could be over already. The grind was too tedious, his mind too active to be satisfied with smiling and serving, day after day after day. Nico swallowed and leaned back against the counter, skinny arms stiff. Patrons snarled at him for the simplest of mistakes, a misheard order in the breakfast clamour. And, sometimes, they would scream for no mistake at all, lips curling back from teeth and eyes as wild as predators stalking the wilderness, crazed over a caffeine addiction he continued to feed. Nico scowled, dark lips twisting, recalling the abuse of a mouse fur - so demure before the shouts had begun! - whose coffee had not been made exactly to her personal liking. Privately, Nico believed that she didn't know the difference between a latte and a cappuccino, yet re-made her drink and coupled it with an apology.\n\nThe fox sighed, breath lolling from his muzzle like a tongue on a hot summer day. There was no sense in apologising for no reason; though he felt he had to do it if he wanted to keep the job, especially if he wanted to do the best job he could. Everything he did was for a reason.\n\nThe bell above the door tinkled and he looked up, a smile spreading automatically across his muzzle. His amber eyes were kind, if tired, as he greeted the flouncing snowy-white canine who strutted up to the counter as if she owned the place, entirely comfortable in her surroundings. He'd seen the white poodle many times in his coffee shop; she consistently affected a bored, vacant expression and left as swiftly as she entered in a brisk clack of ridiculously high heels. Her fluffy ears were plumped out with specialist fur serum - a strong scent that no fur with a sensitive nose could miss - and her short denim skirt was clearly a designer brand, matched by a baby pink shirt cut daringly low across the bosom. She wore a different set of coloured contacts every time she visited and today her eyes were also tinted pink.\n\nShe stopped dead in front of the counter, glancing between her phone and the chalkboard menu above Nico's head, tap-tap-tapping a set of shocking pink painted claws against her phone. Decisions were, after all, tricky to make for the decidedly air-headed, though Nico would never voice such a crass comment aloud. Let the lady take as long as she pleased, it did him no harm. At the far end of the counter, beside the industrial coffee bean grinders, Mary lifted her grey muzzle from her paperwork, whiskers twitching without rest or respite. The poodle ignored the older fur, eyes grazing Nico's when she was ready to order. He stood to attention, smile fixed and one paw on the till.\n\n``Good afternoon!'' He said warmly, smile reaching his eyes easily. ``How are you today?''\n\n``Vanilla latte. Caramel shot.''\n\nNico's ear twitched but he otherwise gave no indication that he had taken note of the evident snub. Tapping the drink into the point of sale machine, the keys worn from years of use, he paused, presented with two options: one thing had to be clarified.\n\n``And would you like that one to be hot or iced today?''\n\nAnnoyance flickered in her eyes, a fleeting flash as her irises dilated.\n\n``I said,'' she growled, ``vanilla latte. Caramel shot.''\n\nNico stared. The morning coffee crazies were long gone. So why was there a lunatic in his shop? The canine must be, well, barking mad, barking up the wrong tree. He couldn't think of any more sayings about barking but those were good enough to soothe his frustration. As subtly as he was able, he peered beneath her fluffed up ears, checking for a hearing aid, just in case. Yet there was nothing to suggest that she may be hearing impaired, only not listening to his question. Mary kept her head resolutely down, shoulders quivering as she stifled her giggles, muzzle carefully blank.\n\nKeeping the smile unwavering upon his muzzle, the fox stood up straighter, locking his paws behind his back.\n\n``I understand, Miss, but would you like that vanilla latte to be hot or iced this time? We can do either.''\n\nThe poodle sighed, bosom heaving, and crossed her arms over her breasts, the handbag on her shoulder jingling with a thousand unnecessary buckles.\n\n``Vanilla latte. Caramel shot.''\n\nNico shook his head the tiniest fraction, twice back and forth. He did not think his incredulity could grow anymore but the poodle proved him wrong at every turn. He curled a paw into a fist, claws biting into his palm. What exactly was her problem anyway? \n\nStupid bitch.\n\n``Very well,'' he muttered under his breath. ``One hot latte it is.''\n\n``What was that?''\n\nOh, so she was not related to a parrot after all that. The bimbo poodle could talk for herself. What a surprise. The fox steadied his expression and cleared his throat, sliding his eyes between her and the till, numbers blurring in his frustration. Was it really so difficult? \n\n``Nothing, Miss. That'll be one hot vanilla latte with a caramel shot coming right up for you!''\n\nHis `customer service' voice rang out as impeccably as always and he smiled genuinely, proud that he'd kept his composure. \n\nIt wasn't always so easy. The coffee nuts wound him up on a daily basis, yet he felt that he was doing exceptionally well to survive their peculiarities and, occasionally, idiocy. Coffee furs would be coffee furs - you had to love them. Without them, Nico wouldn't have a job.\n\nThe canine drummed her fingers on the counter, making Nico's ears twitch fervently as he reached for a paper coffee cup, assuming that she would be after a take-away, even if she had not explicitly. Like hell he was asking her one more bloody question!\n\n``Make sure that's vanilla,'' she barked.\n\nA muscle in his eyelid twitched and he busied himself in making the coffee, steaming milk in a small metal jug at the nearest coffee machine, the one that had not yet been cleaned out after the rush. A shot of coffee grounds was swiftly ready to be mixed in to the latte, covering the espresso with steamed milk and a caramel shot, one step following the other in perfect harmony. The fox could not be rivalled when it came to speed and accuracy. Nico's expression lifted.\n\n``Yes, a vanilla latte, no problem.''\n\nShe sighed once again, staring at her phone and some beeping game rather than the fur she was speaking to.\n\n``And a caramel shot.''\n\nNico huffed with his back to her, shoulders rolling and white-tipped tail bristling. As if he had not heard her the first fucking time! Finishing up with the caramel shot, he ensured all was combined to his satisfaction and satisfied himself with not finishing her drink with his perfected style of latte art, which he was well known for. She would have to go without if she was going to be so rude about ordering a simple drink!\n\n``Yes, no problem. All ready.''\n\nHe plopped the cup with a little more force than necessary on the faux wood counter before her and held out his paw to accept payment, smile wavering only slightly. The poodle glared at his paw as if it had personally insulted her and her mother too, just for good measure.\n\n``That'll be three pounds fifty today, Miss.''\n\nShe dug in her handbag, too small to be of any real use, for an inordinately long time before retrieving a minute pink purse - the theme of the day - which she unzipped with a dainty tug of her nails. Scraping together the coins into her palm, she dropped them one by one on to the counter beside Nico's outstretched paw, letting them ring out and roll away. She smiled as several smaller coins rolled too far and pinged off the opposite side of the counter to land somewhere around the fox's hind paws.\n\nNico's jaw dropped but he dutifully scooped each and every coin off the counter into his paw, bending down to collect the remainder as red hot anger shot through his veins.\n\nWho the fuck did she think she was? \n\nNarrowing his eyes, he nevertheless bit his tongue, making no comment. Thankfully, there was no change to be given as he did not think he could have brought himself to touch the bitch's paw after that little display.\n\n``Thank you,'' he said through gritted teeth. ``You have a good day now.''\n\nShe spun on her heel and clacked out of the shop, brown and white cup clutched smugly in one paw. The bell tinkled and she was gone, prancing down the street in those silly shoes of hers, which Nico snidely thought completely unsuitable for a jaunt around town. \n\nBimbos, What could you do about them, `ey?\n\nWatching her go on her way with smouldering eyes, the fox rumbled a growl, uncurling his paws from fists that he had not realised they had become. The poodle had left without a brown safety sleeve to protect the palm of her paw and fingers from the heat of the drink. Nico hoped she burned herself.\n\n``You really do get them, don't you?'' Mary said, touching Nico's shoulder with a gentle paw, blue eyes concerned as she shuffled closer in her old, stiff gait. ``Are you okay?''\n\nHe slumped, resting his elbows on the counter as exhaustion shook his body, tension released like a guitar string finally breaking with a ping. Sometimes, after a long day, there was one customer that pushed them too far - the straw that broke the camel's back - and today was well and truly his day.\n\n``Yeah,'' he grumbled. ``But it's only one. I'll live.''\n\n``Don't let it get to you, honey.'' Mary smiled kindly. ``Think of the better ones we get in here. And it's quieter now, we can get some bits and bobs done before home time. Don't let it prey on your mind.''\n\nNico's ears perked up. He liked being on top of things and ensuring all was in the best shape it could be. The smile returned to his muzzle, even if it was tentative in its appearance. Grabbing his cleaning supplies from below the counter in both arms, he turned to the back of the shop, thinking that he could run a cloth over the tables and other surfaces, just to satisfy himself that everything was perfect in the front. Then he could tackle the kitchen and plethora of dirty cups, stacked high and towering. He shuddered. That was a task in itself.\n\nHowever, he did not reach the end of the counter before all hell broke loose.\n\n``You! Fox boy!''\n\nThe door crashed open so violently that the bell did not even tinkle in greeting. Storming back into the shop, the poodle slammed the cup down on the counter and scowled, her pretty muzzle twisted into something grotesque, entirely unfitting of any fur, let alone a lady. Nico jumped visibly and dropped his cleaning supplies in a fumble of butterfingers, a spray bottle of cleaning solution skittering across the floor as he grabbed the searing hot cup on the counter top just in time to stop it from tipping over completely.\n\nShe pointed at his muzzle, a manicured finger accusing in its singularity.\n\n``You! You made my drink wrong!''\n\n``What?'' Nico was taken aback - he had heard her perfectly each time! ``What's wrong with it? Was there no caramel shot?''\n\nCould he have missed the shot? The poodle rolled her eyes and shoved the drink closer to Nico, slopping hot coffee over the sides of the cup and dirtying his nice, clean counter. The fox's eyes narrowed. Was there really any need for that?\n\n``What does that look like to you? Tell me.''\n\n``I'm not quite sure how to respond to that, Miss...''\n\nShe glared at him, her expression thunderous. Her pink eyes proved especially unnerving and Nico took a step away from the counter, tail still and quiet against his legs. She lowered her muzzle threateningly, staring him down as her lip curled back ever so slightly to show off her sharp canines, a feral action. Nico's hackles rose but he kept his muzzle as smooth and expressionless as any fox ever had.\n\n``What does it look like to you?''\n\nNico cleared his throat and glanced at Mary, keeping a watchful eye on him even though he was the manager of the little shop. The older rabbit never liked to see him in trouble, though he had to carry the weight. The fox studied the drink, frothy surface pitted and dismal.\n\n``It looks like a hot vanilla latte with a shot of caramel.''\n\n``Yes, it is,'' she growled. ``It's hot.''\n\n``Yes?''\n\nNico raised an eyebrow. That was exactly what he had given her. A hot latte. For a moment, he considered that he may be going crazy himself. It would certainly have explained the insane kind of day.\n\n``I wanted it to be iced.''\n\nNico could have barked a laugh. Was that all? That was the reason for stomping back into the coffee shop as if he had spit in her drink and sprinkled tail hair on it just for good measure? But of course she had wanted it iced and not hot, it was always the way. Perhaps she should have answered the fucking question then. But it was not so bad. Nico breathed a sigh of relief, chest deflating as he exhaled: that would be an easy fix. New drink, done and done.\n\n``Miss, I do apologise,'' the need to say the words, designed by corporate, irritated Nico, ``but I asked you several times if you would like it hot or iced. You merely repeated the drink that you wanted. But that's no problem. I can -''\n\n``What sort of idiot makes a hot vanilla latte?'' She barked over him, throwing her paws up in the air, nails flashing. ``That's ridiculous, no one ever has a hot vanilla latte.''\n\n``Many furs...''\n\nHe shook his head. There was no point fighting a battle that he knew he could not win. Something inside his chest twisted, winding tauter and tauter as his expression steeled, eyes cold and hard.\n\n``Would you like me to remake your drink, Miss?''\n\nHe reached for the cup but the poodle snatched it away before his fingers got close enough, yanking it out of reach and dropping it on the floor by her hind paws. Coffee splattered in a brown splurge, spreading in a wave as it burbled from the cup on its side, lolling as if forlorn. The poodle smirked, eyes darkly cruel even through the contact lenses. Mary hurried around to the poodle's side with her paws clasped to her muzzle, hardly able to believe what she was seeing even as she reached for an already damp dishcloth.\n\n``Why bother?'' The poodle huffed, paws on her hips as she leaned forward for good measure, heels putting her on eye level with Nico. ``You've ruined my day now! That's it! All ruined! My drink - gone! You'd think they'd hire competent staff here. At least someone good enough to make my latte. And what are you going to do about it, hm? My drink?''\n\nThe tightness in Nico's chest snapped, a burst of heat enveloping him in a rush that, somehow, he instinctively knew there was no going back. Like an argument he could not win, there were some things that simply had to be done, regardless of anyone or anything.\n\nCoughing into his paw, the fox adjusted the white collar of his shirt and cut across the poodle as she ranted, tuning her blathering out into white noise that was neither here nor there.\n\n``Mary, could you clean up this lady's drink, please, while I sort out a special...beverage for her? By way of apology, of course.''\n\nHis voice dripped with syrupy sweetness. Mary started and tilted her head, though made no comment on his actual words. He shook his head. He had no answer for her that she would like to hear. Mary would only stop him from what he was about to do. Anyone who knew what he had in mind would have wanted to stop him. But every fox had his limit and the canine would see just how far she had pushed him. Let her see. He would give her something special indeed...\n\nThe canine gave a little `hah' of triumph, shifting her weight in her teetering high heels.\n\n``Now, that's more like it.'' The poodle huffed, arms folding across her large breasts. ``I just knew there was something special back there that you would give to important customers, like me. You should have given me the right drink to begin with, then you wouldn't have to deal with this mess, cub. This is all your fault.''\n\nNico smiled charmingly and stepped to the side of the counter, sweeping his arm out in a half-bow to beckon the lady through to the backend of the shop was: only the kitchen and storage facilities. One could easily walk around the counter to reach either and Nico supposed that they would be private enough. No one would bother them.\n\nAs if she had won a great battle, the poodle's lips curled up in a wicked, smug grin as she strode by, heels clacking as they transferred from lacquered, fine wood to duller linoleum. Cheap flooring lined the staff only areas and Nico gave Mary a conspiring wink that she did not and would not understand as he followed the canine's round rump into his domain.\n\nPoor little bitch: she had no idea what she was in for.\n\n``It'll be a special drink, won't it now?''\n\nShe studied him critically, one paw on the heavy door as if suspecting that the fox may be striving to trick her out of something. Nico shook his head, fingers linked together before his abdomen. A spot of cooling coffee soaked into the fur of his paw from his apron: a splash from when the poodle's coffee cup had been sent unduly flying.\n\n``Of course, it will be a very special drink. Right this way, Miss.''\n\nStopping in the black and white monochrome kitchen where dirty glassware and china lined most surface, she spun to face the fox, tapping a toe upon the ground in the most annoying rhythm.\n\nTap-tap-taptaptap-tap-tap.\n\n``So? What are you going to do for me then?'' She demanded, jabbing Nico in the chest. ``It better be good. It better be worth my time. Make it worth my time, fox.''\n\n``Oh, it will be worth it,'' Nico smirked. ``Just perhaps not in the way you expect it to be.''\n\nShe curled her fingers around the strap of her shoulder bag, one eyebrow raised expectantly. Leaning back against the dishwasher, plastic cool against the seat of his trousers, Nico waited her out, finding no rush in the moment. He could keep the silly bitch there as long as he pleased and longer.\n\n``You just going to stand there all day?'' She rolled her eyes. ``Sheesh. Lazy bunch, you are, the lot of you. Bet you were a school dropout, now stuck working at a coffee shop. I almost feel sorry for you. But not really.''\n\n``Make me my drink.''\n\nHis eyes darkened. Oh, that was not the right way to go if she wanted an easy ride, not at all. Who was she to say that he was a dropout? From the looks of it, he was more educated than her. He didn't have to paint his claws obscene colours just to go about town or dress up in `fuck me' heels. They were an open invitation.\n\nWhy not take it?\n\n``Come closer,'' he said.\n\n``I'd rather not.'' She coughed into her paw daintily, fingers fluttering. ``Foxes have a bit of a stink about them, most unappealing on the nose. I'm sure you don't realise it.''\n\nSo be it.\n\nEnd teaser.\n\nThis story is available for purchase via Smashwords worldwide!\n\nSmashwords: HYPERLINK \"https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/728276\" https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/728276 \n\n PAGE \\* MERGEFORMAT 1 \n\n","writing_bbcode_parsed":"Coffee Stop
Arian Mabe
Cover art by Furrine
HYPERLINK "http://www.furaffinity.net/user/furrine/"; http://www.furaffinity.net/user/furrine/
Once the lunch rush came to an end at The Coffee Stop, the baristas could finally relax in a rare moment of pure and adulterated bliss. A red fox, dressed in a white shirt and unusually smart black trousers with an iron crease down each side, hummed a tune to himself as he wiped a damp cloth over the main counter. The cloth left a trail of moisture in its wake, beads of water clustering together as the fox carefully scooped up pastry crumbs to deposit in the bin below the counter. He was meticulous in his task and took pride in how he kept the coffee shop pristine at all times. Well, whenever customers allowed him to pay the shop the due time and diligence it deserved. A smile tugged at his lips. He loved nothing more than quiet permeating the air, the aroma of coffee grounds tickling his nose.
He had sent the part-time crowd home on weary paws a short while ago, leaving Nico almost complete alone behind the counter, his lithe build slim enough that anyone outside the shop may not have seen him at all. But that was just how he liked it, when it came right down to the fact. The regulars were all right and some of the staff under him but college kids and those working their way through university, with little to no dedication to him or the job. If Nico was going to do a job, he was going to do it well and had no tolerance to anyone who did not abide by the same manner of thought. Only one other employee pottered about the coffee shop, an older, female rabbit coming up to retirement age. Mary did not look her age in the slightest, however, and Nico warranted that they would see her at The Coffee Stop for many years after he moved on, whether she worked there or not.
There were stars in the fox's future. Bigger plans taunted him, dancing just beyond his grasp, far more alluring than serving coffee day in and day out. Though young, Nico had finished university the summer prior and had his sights set on London as winter crept closer, the bright, city lights and bustle calling oh-so-sweetly. He should be proud of his achievements.
He cast his mind back as he worked, tail flicking against his legs. He had a degree in Marketing and Communications, joint honours, which set him in good stead for many positions, yet could not land the work he desired.
It was a waiting game.
Pausing, he took a moment to tug his phone from his pocket, scrolling through the job boards to check if anything new had popped up, though he had checked once that day already. He pulled at the stud earring in his left ear and smoothed own his russet fur, a sigh escaping him against his will.
Working at the coffee shop was all well and good but he wished it could be over already. The grind was too tedious, his mind too active to be satisfied with smiling and serving, day after day after day. Nico swallowed and leaned back against the counter, skinny arms stiff. Patrons snarled at him for the simplest of mistakes, a misheard order in the breakfast clamour. And, sometimes, they would scream for no mistake at all, lips curling back from teeth and eyes as wild as predators stalking the wilderness, crazed over a caffeine addiction he continued to feed. Nico scowled, dark lips twisting, recalling the abuse of a mouse fur - so demure before the shouts had begun! - whose coffee had not been made exactly to her personal liking. Privately, Nico believed that she didn't know the difference between a latte and a cappuccino, yet re-made her drink and coupled it with an apology.
The fox sighed, breath lolling from his muzzle like a tongue on a hot summer day. There was no sense in apologising for no reason; though he felt he had to do it if he wanted to keep the job, especially if he wanted to do the best job he could. Everything he did was for a reason.
The bell above the door tinkled and he looked up, a smile spreading automatically across his muzzle. His amber eyes were kind, if tired, as he greeted the flouncing snowy-white canine who strutted up to the counter as if she owned the place, entirely comfortable in her surroundings. He'd seen the white poodle many times in his coffee shop; she consistently affected a bored, vacant expression and left as swiftly as she entered in a brisk clack of ridiculously high heels. Her fluffy ears were plumped out with specialist fur serum - a strong scent that no fur with a sensitive nose could miss - and her short denim skirt was clearly a designer brand, matched by a baby pink shirt cut daringly low across the bosom. She wore a different set of coloured contacts every time she visited and today her eyes were also tinted pink.
She stopped dead in front of the counter, glancing between her phone and the chalkboard menu above Nico's head, tap-tap-tapping a set of shocking pink painted claws against her phone. Decisions were, after all, tricky to make for the decidedly air-headed, though Nico would never voice such a crass comment aloud. Let the lady take as long as she pleased, it did him no harm. At the far end of the counter, beside the industrial coffee bean grinders, Mary lifted her grey muzzle from her paperwork, whiskers twitching without rest or respite. The poodle ignored the older fur, eyes grazing Nico's when she was ready to order. He stood to attention, smile fixed and one paw on the till.
``Good afternoon!'' He said warmly, smile reaching his eyes easily. ``How are you today?''
``Vanilla latte. Caramel shot.''
Nico's ear twitched but he otherwise gave no indication that he had taken note of the evident snub. Tapping the drink into the point of sale machine, the keys worn from years of use, he paused, presented with two options: one thing had to be clarified.
``And would you like that one to be hot or iced today?''
Annoyance flickered in her eyes, a fleeting flash as her irises dilated.
``I said,'' she growled, ``vanilla latte. Caramel shot.''
Nico stared. The morning coffee crazies were long gone. So why was there a lunatic in his shop? The canine must be, well, barking mad, barking up the wrong tree. He couldn't think of any more sayings about barking but those were good enough to soothe his frustration. As subtly as he was able, he peered beneath her fluffed up ears, checking for a hearing aid, just in case. Yet there was nothing to suggest that she may be hearing impaired, only not listening to his question. Mary kept her head resolutely down, shoulders quivering as she stifled her giggles, muzzle carefully blank.
Keeping the smile unwavering upon his muzzle, the fox stood up straighter, locking his paws behind his back.
``I understand, Miss, but would you like that vanilla latte to be hot or iced this time? We can do either.''
The poodle sighed, bosom heaving, and crossed her arms over her breasts, the handbag on her shoulder jingling with a thousand unnecessary buckles.
``Vanilla latte. Caramel shot.''
Nico shook his head the tiniest fraction, twice back and forth. He did not think his incredulity could grow anymore but the poodle proved him wrong at every turn. He curled a paw into a fist, claws biting into his palm. What exactly was her problem anyway?
Stupid bitch.
``Very well,'' he muttered under his breath. ``One hot latte it is.''
``What was that?''
Oh, so she was not related to a parrot after all that. The bimbo poodle could talk for herself. What a surprise. The fox steadied his expression and cleared his throat, sliding his eyes between her and the till, numbers blurring in his frustration. Was it really so difficult?
``Nothing, Miss. That'll be one hot vanilla latte with a caramel shot coming right up for you!''
His `customer service' voice rang out as impeccably as always and he smiled genuinely, proud that he'd kept his composure.
It wasn't always so easy. The coffee nuts wound him up on a daily basis, yet he felt that he was doing exceptionally well to survive their peculiarities and, occasionally, idiocy. Coffee furs would be coffee furs - you had to love them. Without them, Nico wouldn't have a job.
The canine drummed her fingers on the counter, making Nico's ears twitch fervently as he reached for a paper coffee cup, assuming that she would be after a take-away, even if she had not explicitly. Like hell he was asking her one more bloody question!
``Make sure that's vanilla,'' she barked.
A muscle in his eyelid twitched and he busied himself in making the coffee, steaming milk in a small metal jug at the nearest coffee machine, the one that had not yet been cleaned out after the rush. A shot of coffee grounds was swiftly ready to be mixed in to the latte, covering the espresso with steamed milk and a caramel shot, one step following the other in perfect harmony. The fox could not be rivalled when it came to speed and accuracy. Nico's expression lifted.
``Yes, a vanilla latte, no problem.''
She sighed once again, staring at her phone and some beeping game rather than the fur she was speaking to.
``And a caramel shot.''
Nico huffed with his back to her, shoulders rolling and white-tipped tail bristling. As if he had not heard her the first fucking time! Finishing up with the caramel shot, he ensured all was combined to his satisfaction and satisfied himself with not finishing her drink with his perfected style of latte art, which he was well known for. She would have to go without if she was going to be so rude about ordering a simple drink!
``Yes, no problem. All ready.''
He plopped the cup with a little more force than necessary on the faux wood counter before her and held out his paw to accept payment, smile wavering only slightly. The poodle glared at his paw as if it had personally insulted her and her mother too, just for good measure.
``That'll be three pounds fifty today, Miss.''
She dug in her handbag, too small to be of any real use, for an inordinately long time before retrieving a minute pink purse - the theme of the day - which she unzipped with a dainty tug of her nails. Scraping together the coins into her palm, she dropped them one by one on to the counter beside Nico's outstretched paw, letting them ring out and roll away. She smiled as several smaller coins rolled too far and pinged off the opposite side of the counter to land somewhere around the fox's hind paws.
Nico's jaw dropped but he dutifully scooped each and every coin off the counter into his paw, bending down to collect the remainder as red hot anger shot through his veins.
Who the fuck did she think she was?
Narrowing his eyes, he nevertheless bit his tongue, making no comment. Thankfully, there was no change to be given as he did not think he could have brought himself to touch the bitch's paw after that little display.
``Thank you,'' he said through gritted teeth. ``You have a good day now.''
She spun on her heel and clacked out of the shop, brown and white cup clutched smugly in one paw. The bell tinkled and she was gone, prancing down the street in those silly shoes of hers, which Nico snidely thought completely unsuitable for a jaunt around town.
Bimbos, What could you do about them, `ey?
Watching her go on her way with smouldering eyes, the fox rumbled a growl, uncurling his paws from fists that he had not realised they had become. The poodle had left without a brown safety sleeve to protect the palm of her paw and fingers from the heat of the drink. Nico hoped she burned herself.
``You really do get them, don't you?'' Mary said, touching Nico's shoulder with a gentle paw, blue eyes concerned as she shuffled closer in her old, stiff gait. ``Are you okay?''
He slumped, resting his elbows on the counter as exhaustion shook his body, tension released like a guitar string finally breaking with a ping. Sometimes, after a long day, there was one customer that pushed them too far - the straw that broke the camel's back - and today was well and truly his day.
``Yeah,'' he grumbled. ``But it's only one. I'll live.''
``Don't let it get to you, honey.'' Mary smiled kindly. ``Think of the better ones we get in here. And it's quieter now, we can get some bits and bobs done before home time. Don't let it prey on your mind.''
Nico's ears perked up. He liked being on top of things and ensuring all was in the best shape it could be. The smile returned to his muzzle, even if it was tentative in its appearance. Grabbing his cleaning supplies from below the counter in both arms, he turned to the back of the shop, thinking that he could run a cloth over the tables and other surfaces, just to satisfy himself that everything was perfect in the front. Then he could tackle the kitchen and plethora of dirty cups, stacked high and towering. He shuddered. That was a task in itself.
However, he did not reach the end of the counter before all hell broke loose.
``You! Fox boy!''
The door crashed open so violently that the bell did not even tinkle in greeting. Storming back into the shop, the poodle slammed the cup down on the counter and scowled, her pretty muzzle twisted into something grotesque, entirely unfitting of any fur, let alone a lady. Nico jumped visibly and dropped his cleaning supplies in a fumble of butterfingers, a spray bottle of cleaning solution skittering across the floor as he grabbed the searing hot cup on the counter top just in time to stop it from tipping over completely.
She pointed at his muzzle, a manicured finger accusing in its singularity.
``You! You made my drink wrong!''
``What?'' Nico was taken aback - he had heard her perfectly each time! ``What's wrong with it? Was there no caramel shot?''
Could he have missed the shot? The poodle rolled her eyes and shoved the drink closer to Nico, slopping hot coffee over the sides of the cup and dirtying his nice, clean counter. The fox's eyes narrowed. Was there really any need for that?
``What does that look like to you? Tell me.''
``I'm not quite sure how to respond to that, Miss...''
She glared at him, her expression thunderous. Her pink eyes proved especially unnerving and Nico took a step away from the counter, tail still and quiet against his legs. She lowered her muzzle threateningly, staring him down as her lip curled back ever so slightly to show off her sharp canines, a feral action. Nico's hackles rose but he kept his muzzle as smooth and expressionless as any fox ever had.
``What does it look like to you?''
Nico cleared his throat and glanced at Mary, keeping a watchful eye on him even though he was the manager of the little shop. The older rabbit never liked to see him in trouble, though he had to carry the weight. The fox studied the drink, frothy surface pitted and dismal.
``It looks like a hot vanilla latte with a shot of caramel.''
``Yes, it is,'' she growled. ``It's hot.''
``Yes?''
Nico raised an eyebrow. That was exactly what he had given her. A hot latte. For a moment, he considered that he may be going crazy himself. It would certainly have explained the insane kind of day.
``I wanted it to be iced.''
Nico could have barked a laugh. Was that all? That was the reason for stomping back into the coffee shop as if he had spit in her drink and sprinkled tail hair on it just for good measure? But of course she had wanted it iced and not hot, it was always the way. Perhaps she should have answered the fucking question then. But it was not so bad. Nico breathed a sigh of relief, chest deflating as he exhaled: that would be an easy fix. New drink, done and done.
``Miss, I do apologise,'' the need to say the words, designed by corporate, irritated Nico, ``but I asked you several times if you would like it hot or iced. You merely repeated the drink that you wanted. But that's no problem. I can -''
``What sort of idiot makes a hot vanilla latte?'' She barked over him, throwing her paws up in the air, nails flashing. ``That's ridiculous, no one ever has a hot vanilla latte.''
``Many furs...''
He shook his head. There was no point fighting a battle that he knew he could not win. Something inside his chest twisted, winding tauter and tauter as his expression steeled, eyes cold and hard.
``Would you like me to remake your drink, Miss?''
He reached for the cup but the poodle snatched it away before his fingers got close enough, yanking it out of reach and dropping it on the floor by her hind paws. Coffee splattered in a brown splurge, spreading in a wave as it burbled from the cup on its side, lolling as if forlorn. The poodle smirked, eyes darkly cruel even through the contact lenses. Mary hurried around to the poodle's side with her paws clasped to her muzzle, hardly able to believe what she was seeing even as she reached for an already damp dishcloth.
``Why bother?'' The poodle huffed, paws on her hips as she leaned forward for good measure, heels putting her on eye level with Nico. ``You've ruined my day now! That's it! All ruined! My drink - gone! You'd think they'd hire competent staff here. At least someone good enough to make my latte. And what are you going to do about it, hm? My drink?''
The tightness in Nico's chest snapped, a burst of heat enveloping him in a rush that, somehow, he instinctively knew there was no going back. Like an argument he could not win, there were some things that simply had to be done, regardless of anyone or anything.
Coughing into his paw, the fox adjusted the white collar of his shirt and cut across the poodle as she ranted, tuning her blathering out into white noise that was neither here nor there.
``Mary, could you clean up this lady's drink, please, while I sort out a special...beverage for her? By way of apology, of course.''
His voice dripped with syrupy sweetness. Mary started and tilted her head, though made no comment on his actual words. He shook his head. He had no answer for her that she would like to hear. Mary would only stop him from what he was about to do. Anyone who knew what he had in mind would have wanted to stop him. But every fox had his limit and the canine would see just how far she had pushed him. Let her see. He would give her something special indeed...
The canine gave a little `hah' of triumph, shifting her weight in her teetering high heels.
``Now, that's more like it.'' The poodle huffed, arms folding across her large breasts. ``I just knew there was something special back there that you would give to important customers, like me. You should have given me the right drink to begin with, then you wouldn't have to deal with this mess, cub. This is all your fault.''
Nico smiled charmingly and stepped to the side of the counter, sweeping his arm out in a half-bow to beckon the lady through to the backend of the shop was: only the kitchen and storage facilities. One could easily walk around the counter to reach either and Nico supposed that they would be private enough. No one would bother them.
As if she had won a great battle, the poodle's lips curled up in a wicked, smug grin as she strode by, heels clacking as they transferred from lacquered, fine wood to duller linoleum. Cheap flooring lined the staff only areas and Nico gave Mary a conspiring wink that she did not and would not understand as he followed the canine's round rump into his domain.
Poor little bitch: she had no idea what she was in for.
``It'll be a special drink, won't it now?''
She studied him critically, one paw on the heavy door as if suspecting that the fox may be striving to trick her out of something. Nico shook his head, fingers linked together before his abdomen. A spot of cooling coffee soaked into the fur of his paw from his apron: a splash from when the poodle's coffee cup had been sent unduly flying.
``Of course, it will be a very special drink. Right this way, Miss.''
Stopping in the black and white monochrome kitchen where dirty glassware and china lined most surface, she spun to face the fox, tapping a toe upon the ground in the most annoying rhythm.
Tap-tap-taptaptap-tap-tap.
``So? What are you going to do for me then?'' She demanded, jabbing Nico in the chest. ``It better be good. It better be worth my time. Make it worth my time, fox.''
``Oh, it will be worth it,'' Nico smirked. ``Just perhaps not in the way you expect it to be.''
She curled her fingers around the strap of her shoulder bag, one eyebrow raised expectantly. Leaning back against the dishwasher, plastic cool against the seat of his trousers, Nico waited her out, finding no rush in the moment. He could keep the silly bitch there as long as he pleased and longer.
``You just going to stand there all day?'' She rolled her eyes. ``Sheesh. Lazy bunch, you are, the lot of you. Bet you were a school dropout, now stuck working at a coffee shop. I almost feel sorry for you. But not really.''
``Make me my drink.''
His eyes darkened. Oh, that was not the right way to go if she wanted an easy ride, not at all. Who was she to say that he was a dropout? From the looks of it, he was more educated than her. He didn't have to paint his claws obscene colours just to go about town or dress up in `fuck me' heels. They were an open invitation.
Why not take it?
``Come closer,'' he said.
``I'd rather not.'' She coughed into her paw daintily, fingers fluttering. ``Foxes have a bit of a stink about them, most unappealing on the nose. I'm sure you don't realise it.''
So be it.
End teaser.
This story is available for purchase via Smashwords worldwide!
Smashwords: HYPERLINK "https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/728276" https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/728276
PAGE \\* MERGEFORMAT 1
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