Ayla Fairchild

She let out a small sigh of irritation of having been interrupted. Eyes still closed, she didn’t even bother to turn her head around to call out to the person behind her. “You should learn to walk more quietly; your loud clomping disturbed me and the fish.”

“Eh, unfortunate occupational hazard.” Connor shrugged but was very aware of her putting the bill in the tip jar. Clearly she’d just meant that for him; no need to split it with the other two starting their shifts in an hour. At her comment about the coffee getting her through the day, he couldn’t help but chuckle, reaching for the giant iced coffee he had behind the counter (no one had to know it was his third of the day). “I understand that more than I can ever say. Great to formally meet you Ayla, I’m Connor, maker of the most magical mochas this side of the Atlantic.”

“In that case, I’ll have to order a mocha next time,” Ayla grinned, taking a sip of her coffee. With no other customers currently in the store, she decided to drag out her break a little bit in order to keep chatting with the cheery barista. “So, Connor, what do you do when you aren’t making mochas? Assuming you have free time at all, of course.”

Usually, they tried to at least look put together when they went out - even if the thin semblance of being a semi capable adult was long gone to the two am bodega cashiers near their apartment, it was still nice to pretend that, at 27, they didn’t have a secret stash of cadbury eggs and nothing else in their bedside table, and that they did their taxes on time - but tonight, even appearing in a clean shirt was beyond them. It had been a rough day at work, losing a child in their ward suddenly and without warning, only to come home to a frantic fae teen close to bleeding out after getting attacked in an alleyway, desperate to avoid the call to his parents that a hospital would give. And, true to form, Rowan had let them in, flying through a first aid kit and half of the potions in their kitchen, letting the fae go only when Rowan was sure that he wasn’t going to pass out on the way home. And if the witch had pressed a protection charm into the boys hand on his way out, well. That was their business, wasn’t it?

Of course, it had brought them to this - standing in the middle of a store, flickering lights above them, staring in blank exhaustion at the shelf in front of them, one hand exhaustedly resting upon the handle, completely unaware of the stares and whispers they were attracting as people realize the front of their shirt was covered in still slightly tacky blood. It was only when someone got within a few feet of them that Rowan reacted, all though it was only to mutter a brief apology and move back, hauling the cart with them absentmindedly, waiting for the other to pass. 

All she’d wanted was some frozen yogurt to celebrate the end of a lengthy case. She hadn’t exactly bargained for coming face to face with a tall man covered in fairly fresh blood. Ayla stood there, blocking the aisle and the man’s path as she stared at him, trying to decide whether he was the source or the cause of the blood. Trying to decide whether he was hurt needed help or if she needed to keep him from hurting anyone else. These thoughts rooted her to the spot as her now-forgotten frozen yogurt continued to thaw in her hand.

Her awkwardly prolonged observation of the man had allowed her to conclude that he probably wasn’t a vampire, which reassured her enough to find her voice. “I’m sorry but are you alright? You’re just...well you’re covered in blood.”As nervous as she was, the concern in her voice was real, as was her desire to help whoever had been injured enough to ruin this man’s shirt.

Upon seeing a fae she knew, well, knew of-everyone knew about Eden’s sister-Lorelai floated to the ground, using the wind to keep her safe. “Sorry, it’s just me. Didn’t mean to scare you, but I guess we both had the same idea.”

The breath she’d unconsciously been holding rushed out of her as soon as she saw the young fae float down from the treetops, and Ayla allowed her body to relax as she offered the girl a smile. “No worries. I’m just a bit jumpy I suppose.” Part of her wanted to warn the other girl that she shouldn’t be out on her own like this, that it wasn’t safe, but given how hypocritical it would have been, she instead bit her tongue. “You’re Lorelai, right? I think I’ve seen you around town. I’m Ayla.” 

“You’ve got it!” Forcing his standard customer smile back onto his face, he stepped away from the counter and grabbed a large cup, taking a second to take a few deep breaths as he filled it with coffee. Needless to say, it was going to be a hell of a time getting through the rest of this shift.

Topping off the cup, he capped it and brought it over to where she was still waiting. “Here ya go, no charge or anything. I still feel bad you had to witness that mess, plus something tells me your day’s been going just as well as mine. Hope this helps.”

"Don’t you dare apologize; I’m sorry you had to deal with that. Hopefully the rest of your shift is easier.” She thought about arguing with him over paying for the coffee but then thought better of it and instead proceeded to stuff a twenty-dollar bill into the tip jar. “Thank you for the coffee, I swear it’s the only thing that gets me through the day. I’m Ayla by the way; I figured I should introduce myself since I’m starting to find myself coming here nearly every day.”

Lorelai wandered through the woods, stepping on leaves that looked crunchy. These parts of the mountain were rarely visited, and they allowed a nice breeze, allowing the young fae to feel at home. Finding her favorite spot, Rory was about to settle down to read when she heard another crunch somewhere around her. She may be small, but Rory wasn’t stupid. She knew what was happening in the world around her, and her heart began to race. Using a strong gust of wind, the girl propelled herself into the branches of the tree and watched, waiting.

Ayla had had a crazy day at work and found herself longing for some peace and quiet, as far away from other people and as deep within nature as she could get. She’d made the trek up through the mountains along a different path than she normally took, searching for a small waterfall she vaguely recalled visiting in years past. Just as she was beginning to truly relax she heard a rustling in the trees above. Ayla crouched down into a defensive position, immediately wary. “Hello?” she called out, proud that her voice didn’t waver despite her unease. 

“Well, fuck you too…” Connor mumbled, his eyes attempting to bore a hole in the back of the pissed-off customer shoving their way out the door and into the sun-drenched day. How the fuck was it his fault that they were out of the pumpkin cold brew? And of course it had to happen during his one solo shift this week… Trying to shake it off, he turned back around and jumped when he saw someone new at the counter. “Mornin’!” He immediately slid to position behind the register, “My sincerest apologies you had to hear that, it’s been that kind of a morning. What can I get for you?”

It was one of those days where everything was going wrong. Clients were being irrational, coworkers incompetent, and her father was being...well, his usual self. All of which meant one thing: she needed coffee asap. As desperate as she was for that sweet shot of caffeine, she could never have imagined being as rude as the customer ahead of her was; it was hardly the poor barista’s fault. Her initial plan to treat herself to some decadent caramel concoction was rapidly replaced by the desire to cut the guy some slack. “No worries,” she said with a sympathetic smile. “I’ll take just a cup of black coffee please.”