Southern Belle Coffee Co.

[theycalledmeacurse]

Three years. It was hard to believe sometimes, those years having flown by as she adjusted to the new universe and being among people who went about their normal, everyday lives with no concept of how easily it could all end. She'd had a hard first few months, coming to grips with everything she'd been through, grieving for all she'd lost, but after a while she'd started trying to live again. After six months of simply working at a coffee shop, she'd decided to begin the process of opening her own. Drawing on the advice of people she'd met in this world and her own, she put her full energy into getting everything sorted out for the new business. It had taken time, of course, but eventually the long months of finding the best location, the best equipment, and the best suppliers, she'd opened the shop with a soft, understated flourish.

They were a hit with the neighborhood. It was better than she could have hoped, customers gushing about the open, airy space that was full of bright yellows and light greens, decorated with framed photos of iconic southern images - big houses with wrap-around porches, blooming magnolia trees, overflowing baskets of peaches... Patrons loved the in-house roasted coffee, praising the smoothness of their pour-over and the flavor combinations of their lattes. Their baked goods weren't bad, either, the cupcakes and miniature pies almost always selling out by closing time.

Rogue was so involved in her work that she could almost forget that there were superheroes in this world, too. They weren't as plentiful here as in her universe, not yet anyway, but the city always seemed to be abuzz with the latest exploits of Iron Man whenever he came to town. Tony Stark had even stopped in once for a cupcake; she'd been off that day, and the employees still talked about it, the group photo they'd taken posted on the wall back behind the counter.

That photo was nestled among all the others they'd taken in the months since the shop had opened. Everyone learning how to operate the roaster, tasting espresso during training, snapshots of the most intricate latte art, and everyone just generally goofing off and having fun. She'd been lucky to find a lovely group of people to join her on this adventure, from college students to off-off-Broadway actors to mothers just looking for a way to earn a little extra money for the family. Everyone gave 110%, in part because they saw how hard Rogue herself worked - she practically lived at the shop, and she genuinely cared about each of her employees. They'd been open for a little over a year now and not a single person had quit, which she liked to think said something.

The days were getting warmer, that deliciously cool weather of spring letting the shop open its windows to let in the breeze and entice customers inside with the scent of fresh coffee in the air. Rogue was back behind the counter, taking orders and preparing drinks just like her employees, her nametag reading "Marie" affixed to the uniform shirt they all wore - a mossy green color with Southern Belle Coffee Co scrawling across the chest, a pink and white magnolia blossom beside the words. She greeted the next customer with a bright smile and an enthusiastic, "Hi there, sugar, what can I get for you?"

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[on_ur_left]

Learning wasn't anything new to Steve. He'd always been a sponge for knowledge, and although it hadn't been tested, he was pretty sure the serum had boosted his mental capacity, at least a little, as well as his physical abilities. He remembered things more easily, picked them up more quickly even than he had before, and he hadn't been a slouch even when he was younger.

Still, having almost seventy years' worth of knowledge that he needed to learn meant even his considerable mental faculties had a hard time cramming everything he needed into his head and retaining said knowledge. He would quickly get overwhelmed as he went deeper down the rabbit hole (a reference he actually understood, although he'd learned that there were several adaptations to the classic children's story in the intervening years), and it made him frustrated, which wasn't conducive to learning. It might not be so bad, except he knew everything he was trying to learn was second-nature to those around him, who had either been there at the start of all the technology and advancements, or had grown up taking it all for granted. He'd been dropped in the middle of the sea, and some days - a lot of days, truthfully - it felt like all he could do just to keep his head above water.

He kept reminding himself it had only been a month since he'd crashed a plane into the ocean and thought he was going to die in the beginning of 1945. He'd closed his eyes to the cold, and when he'd - miraculously - opened them again, he quickly learned that it was the spring of 2011, the whole world had continued on, and he didn't have a place in it anymore. As a legend, maybe even an icon, but not as a flesh-and-blood person. SHIELD had had to get him new ID just to make him "legitimate." They even gave him a stipend of spending money, ostensibly as "backpay" from the military, but he wasn't stupid; soldiers MIA didn't get paid, it was probably Fury's way of lengthening Steve's leash while simultaneously making it even tighter.

All in all, he was not in a great headspace a lot of the time. But he was trying. There wasn't much else he could do. So he studied, and when that got to be too much, he went out and wandered. The city was still the same New York he'd grown up in, but also vastly different. Some days he hated all the changes, but sometimes, like today, he almost relished them. If the city could move forward and still retain a core piece of itself, then so could he.

That was the mindset he was in when he stumbled across a coffee shop during a walk. The awning and sign outside were simple but bright and inviting. Deciding on a whim why the hell not?, Steve went in, looking around curiously at the decor as he moved into the line. It was a really nice cafe, and Steve hoped their aliments matched.

When the barista greeted him cheerfully in what sounded like a genuine Southern accent, Steve didn't even try to suppress a smile in return. "I'll tell ya what. I'll take two blueberry pies, and..." he shrugged with an 'aww, shucks' grin, as Bucky used to call it. "I'm not well-versed in coffees, so maybe just a recommendation for what goes good with the pie?"