"Caffeine- the lifeblood of the twenty-first century."

-Caitlin Moran

"Can I h… can I help you?"

Living in New York, ever since a crapload of aliens fell out of the sky, people tended not to be shocked by things anymore. Still, it should have been an ordinary Saturday morning shift in the hipster coffee shop, until Eva found herself serving a super.

At that point, it was impossible to tell whether he was a superhero or supervillain; he was tall enough for it to be the first thing Eva noticed about him, which was pretty tall considering he was magenta coloured, wearing a cape and had a jewel in the middle of his forehead. He was stood at the stained wooden counter somewhat awkwardly with a crumpled piece of paper in one hand; he seemed to be aware that everyone had stopped drinking out of their statement jam jars to stare at him, although wasn't quite sure how to react.

Pull yourself together, Eva chastised herself, you're not helping the situation. Besides, supers tend to tip big. "Sir?"

"Sorry." He was British, and had a surprisingly human, mellow voice. "It's my turn to do the coffee run."

"First time, huh?" she asked him, as he handed over the slip of paper. She recognised the near-pure caffeine order of the one and only Tony Stark on the list, who was a frequent visitor to the coffee bar and had even been known to bring a few of the other Avengers in on occasion, although Eva preferred when it was just Pepper. The Earth's Mightiest Heroes tended to make a mess. "Haven't seen you in here before."

"That's because I'm only two days old," the magenta man explained.

To her credit, she didn't even bat an eyelid. "That'll be it, then." She wedged the slip of paper into the top bar of the coffee machine and started to work her way through the list. "I assume you had something to do with the near-Armaggedon scenario that went down yesterday, then?" she asked, over her shoulder. The news had shown nothing else.

He picked up a business card from the counter, turned it over in his hands and returned it to the pile. "I was quite heavily involved, yes."

She hesitated. "You were one of the good guys, then? This isn't your punishment for trying to kill everybody, doing all Iron Man's powder monkey jobs?"

He laughed softly. "No, I was one of the… one of the good guys."

"Well, congratulations on winning." The machine rattled and gurgled away. "I think people might've actually been worried for a moment."

"Ah," said the man wryly, "I can understand how watching people get into an altercation that has nothing to do with them on the other side of the globe might be stressful."

She rolled her eyes. "Nothing wrong with a little empathy."

"Of course there isn't. Empathy is what makes you human, after all."

Shaking her head a little, she skimmed the excess foam off the top of the cardboard cups, and grabbed some lids from the pile. Seven cups; the usual requests from Iron Man, War Machine, Captain America, Hawkeye, Black Widow, and Thor (the only person who drank coffee stronger than Stark's, and with a great deal more sugar to boot). "Banner not feeling thirsty today, then?" She liked the scientist; he was quiet, apologized for the rowdiness of the others, and didn't terrify her. Admittedly she had never seen him in Hulk form, but still.

"I'm afraid I couldn't say." He handed over a crisp hundred dollar bill as she slotted the cups into a grid. "Keep the change."

"Thanks," she said without feeling. If it had been in change, she could have kept the extra money as a tip; as it was, she would be expected to put the hundred dollar note unbroken into the till, and never see the money again. "Enjoy your drinks."

"Oh, none of these are mine. I don't drink, you see."

She raised an eyebrow. "Then why are you doing the coffee run?"

"Mr Stark said I might enjoy it."

That sounded like the sort of thing the billionaire would say. "And did you?"

The man paused. "Yes, I suppose I did."

This time round the smile was genuine. "Have a nice day."

A/N just something I've been writing while distracting myself from exams. Will it turn romance-y? Who knows? Will bad stuff happens because it appears, as a writer, I am incapable of writing fluff? NOBODY CAN TELL! Will I keep updating? IT'S A LOTTERY!