Hello :)

Here we are again. Caleo. I'm going to be honest, this wasn't planned. It was more of a spur-of-the-moment thing.

I honestly thought I was done with PJO, and Caleo, and all that jazz, but, well . . .

A guest left a handful of review on my story Calypso, and honestly, I'd mostly forgotten it existed until then. And when I read them, I kept scrolling down the screen and reading all the nice messages people left for me, especially considering it's one of the worst stories I've ever written. And I dunno, but suddenly I wanted to write something for this category again. And for some reason "coffee shop AU" popped into my head, which is unusual considering I don't generally read them.

I'm also hurrying to get this written before the internet cuts out. -_-

Well, I hope you enjoy it. :)

Cheers!

~Ice.

Engine Grease and English Breakfast

Schhhk. Whirrr . . .

Steam rose from the hot liquid slowly rising in the cup, and the smell of coffee flooded the young woman's senses. She wrinkled her nose in distaste and turned away until it was full, before recollecting the cup and spraying some whipped cream on top. She set it on a little plate, complete with a napkin and spoon, before checking off the order on a slip of paper and moving out from behind the counter.

If there was one thing Calypso Monachikós hated, it was coffee.

Ironic that she was working in a café. But, sadly, she'd needed a job, so she had to tolerate it. This was the only place in Houston that even considered hiring her, since she'd never had any past experience in working before, and besides, she'd been here for a year. She was used to it.

She was used to a lot of things.

She was used to rude customers, burns, shattered mugs, soapy dishwater, low pay, slippery floors, awful bosses, and a lack of help when she needed it. She was used to run-down apartments, horrible landlords, night-owl neighbours, wild animals raiding her garbage bin, and lots of bills. She was used to a lack of university study, adjusting to the English language, having no one to talk to, receiving no contact from home, and trying to understand the ever-developing American culture. She was used to being lonely.

When she thought about it however, she was her own best company. Few had ever understood her love for books and gardening. Most considered her odd when she preferred to sit by herself and sing rather than scroll through Facebook or post selfies on Instagram. Everyone thought she was mad when she decided to pick up and move to another country which spoke a completely different language, seemingly for no good reason at all.

She never told those people that she did it to get away from them.

Oh, what they would say if they saw where she was now . . . Her sisters would laugh. Her mother would turn up her nose, and her father wouldn't notice at all, considering what he was like.

'Ilíthio ánthropo,' she muttered, glowering a little at the thought. Stupid man, indeed . . .

CRASH!

Calypso shrieked as she collided head-on with something huge and solid, the impact sending her backwards. The person she had run into let out a roar of pain, and she looked up from her landing spot on the floor to see a forty-something year old man glaring down at her, drenched in scalding coffee.

'Idiot girl!' he bellowed, going red from the heat. 'Watch where you're going! I swear to God – I want something done about this, you hear me?'

'I – I'm really sorry,' Calypso stammered, trying unsuccessfully to get to her feet. 'And yes, of course. Right this way, sir . . .'

She stood up, and looked over at the person she was supposed to be bringing the beverage to; a curly haired teenager who looked about nineteen. She gave him a look of apology and he waved her off good naturedly, mouthing: It's fine.

Giving a grateful look in return, Calypso escorted the man out the back of the café to see the manager.

It didn't end well. A lot of shouting followed, and with a promise to deal with Calypso accordingly and pay the man for the trouble, her boss – Michael – sent him away. Then he turned to her with a grim look.

He sighed.

'Calypso -'

'I know,' she said, cutting over him. 'I botched up. Again.'

'This is the second time this month. You know I can't afford to keep around clumsy employees.'

Calypso's face fell. She knew where this was going. Usually she just got a scolding and was sent to clean toilets for a week, so this hit her like a bag of stones.

A fifty kilogram bag of stones.

'Please,' she begged, looking at him desperately. 'Don't send me away. I do not know if I will be able to find another job! I -'

Michael shook his head, a disappointed look on his face. However, she could see the tiniest of smiles pulling on the corners of his mouth, like she had amused him. 'One thing I always liked about you, Caly; you speak so damn formally. You should loosen up a bit. It'll help you in the long run. I promise.'

'Please,' she repeated.

He sighed again, and seemed to be thinking something over. Finally, he spoke. 'I'll give you a week. Take that time to try and find another job, but next Wednesday you have to go. Is that fair?

No.

Mutely, she nodded.

'Good.' He ran a hand tiredly over his face. 'Now, please go out and fix up that order you dropped. Your customer's still waiting.'

'Al-alright. Thank you.'

She hurried back out into the main area and went to clean up the mess. However, when she got there she found there was nothing left.

She paused in confusion, and her question wasn't answered until the boy she had seen earlier appeared out of nowhere, handing her a tray with the shattered china and sopping napkins full of coffee piled up in it.

'Here,' he said.

Calypso blinked.

A few seconds passed, and he nudged the tray a little more firmly into her hands. Finally, she snapped out of her shock and took it, stammering her thanks. No one had ever done something for her in a long time, especially a customer . . .

'Don't worry about it,' he said. 'I'm right to wait.'

'I –o – okay. I, um, thank you. I'll be as quick as I can.'

'All good, all good.' He cracked a grin, and Calypso hesitantly smiled back.

She quickly moved back across the room and behind the counter, disposing of the mess and making another coffee. The entire time she was there, she was still trying to process the fact that he had helped her, and nearly dropped another cup. Eventually, she built up a little appreciation-speech in her head, intending to express her gratitude at his unnecessary kindness. When she got back to his table however, she did not find what she expected.

There, poking out from beneath the napkin holder was a wad of cash and a serviette with a hastily scribbled note on it.

Sorry, somethign came up and I had to go. Keep the tip and dont let asses like that guy put yuo down. Good luck Sunshine. Might see you agian sometmie.

The spelling and grammar were both absolutely atrocious, but Calypso knew it was from the boy. Carefully, she picked up the bills and counted through them – fifty dollars.

A tip of fifty dollars.

Numbly, she folded the cash and slipped it into her bra to avoid losing it. Then she read through the note again. Something about it made the corners of her lips quirk up in a smile, and after a second's contemplation, she put it with the money.

The next morning, Calypso was back in the café as the sun was rising. She wanted to work as many hours as possible and make her final pay check for this job a glorious one. Last night, she had combed through the newspaper and looked on the internet for any job openings. Unfortunately, she didn't find any.

It looked like the next week was going to be a difficult one.

The money had helped, however. It had bought her enough food to stock the fridge for the next four days, and she'd even afforded a bottle of caffeinated iced tea to drink on the way to work that morning. Things might have been looking difficult, but at least she had the luxury of portable drinks.

Her first task for the day was to wipe down all the tables before the customers arrived. This was generally a quick job, but for some reason, when she got there Calypso found herself simply standing where the boy had sat yesterday. There was the faintest trace of an unusual scent in the air, and when she worked it out, she was momentarily confused.

Engine grease?

Shaking her head dubiously, she wiped down the table and forced herself to move along.

There was a steady trickle of customers throughout the day, and Calypso was surprised to find that her stress levels were relatively normal. She was supposed to have an hour off work for lunch, but she kept pushing the thought of it away; saving it for later.

Yet again, the door opened with the ring of a bell, and another customer entered the building. Calypso sighed and retied her caramel coloured hair into a ponytail, making a noise of frustration when wispy bits fell out and framed her face. With a tiny groan, she gave up and went to take their order.

She didn't really look up until she reached their table, but when she did, she stopped.

It was the boy.

And judging by his impish grin, he was here for a reason.

'You! It's you!'

'Hello to you too, Sunshine,' he replied smoothly, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. 'And what pleasure brings you here?'

'Work,' she replied dryly. 'I wanted to talk to you – about that tip -'

He waved her off. 'It's fine. Really.'

'But . . .' She faltered, and her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. 'Why?'

'You looked like you were having a rough day. Seemed that you needed it.'

'Well, I did; I mean, it bought me dinner, but – that's not the point. That tip was huge! If you weren't already gone, I couldn't possibly have taken all of it – you're insane!'

'You know, you seem very charming,' he quipped, raising a single eyebrow. 'Be happy about the damn tip, would you, woman?'

She waved her hands around a little bit. 'I am! But I – It's not – I don't – ugh!'

'Am I distracting you, señora?' he asked cheekily. 'Well, it's got to be expected. I always have that effect on the ladies.'

Calypso snorted rather unattractively. 'No. In fact, I find you very annoying. It's just -'

'Now, now, is that how you treat a customer?'

'You, yes. Everyone else, probably not.'

'Oh? And what's gonna set me apart? That I'm the Super-Sized McShizzle?'

She blinked. Not once in all her time in America had she come across terminology like that. 'What?'

He laughed and waved her off. 'Never mind. Hey, let me buy you a coffee.'

She blinked yet again. 'What?'

He looked at her innocently. 'What, no one ever shouted you some caffeine before?'

She took a moment to process that statement before speaking. '. . . No?'

He slapped his hands down on the table. 'Well. Sit here, lady, and I'll do just that.'

'What? No, I don't – I'm not -'

'Have you used your lunch break yet?'

'. . . No.'

'Then have it now! Go on, tell someone that you're going, and you know what, I'll take you someplace nice.'

'But I -'

'Aww, c'mon! I don't look that dodgy, do I?'

She waved her hands in frustration. 'I don't even know your name!'

'Oh. Right.' He stuck out his hand for her to shake. 'Leo Valdez, at your service. And who might you be?' His accent, whatever it was, became more pronounced as he said that last sentence.

She tucked her order book and pen into the pocket on her apron. 'Calypso Monachikós, and beware; I'm foreign.'

He grinned. 'I noticed.'

She gave a little sigh. 'Alright. I'll go with you. Just give me a minute.'

He responded with a mock salute and she went out to the back of the café and deposited her apron, telling a co-worker that she was going out for an hour while she did so. When she returned, Leo was waiting by the door, hands thrust deep into the pockets of his denim overalls. The sleeves of his checked shirt, which were rolled up, showed that he seemingly did a bit of manual labour for a living – he was ridiculously tanned (or maybe that was his natural skin tone. Who knew?) and were littered with scars and scratches. Giving her that impish grin again, he offered her is arm in a joking manner, and they went out onto the street.

'So,' he said conversationally as they walked. 'You said you're foreign. Where're you from?' She was about to answer, but he held up a finger. 'Wait, let me guess. Somewhere in the Mediterranean? Your last name sounds like it.'

She nodded. 'I'm Greek. I moved here last year.'

He whistled. 'And you're stuck in a coffee shop in Houston? I'm surprised you didn't pick one of the more touristy places. Why not New York, or Oregon or someplace?'

She shot him a look. 'Yeah, and if I lived there, I wouldn't have five cents to my name.'

He shrugged. 'Point taken.'

'And what about you?' she asked. 'I don't know whether it's you or your accent that's grating on my nerves.'

He grinned. 'That'd just be me. But yeah, I'm Mexican and a pro at speaking Spanish, if I do say so myself.'

Calypso scoffed. 'Well, aren't you full of yourself.'

'Very, Sunshine.'

She stopped and looked at him. 'Why do you call me that?'

He gave her a look that didn't quite answer her question. 'Reasons.'

'Right.'

'Here.' He stopped outside another café not a hundred metres down the street from where she worked. He pushed open the door and nudged her inside.

'What sort of coffee do you want?' he asked. 'You can sit down and I'll order for you.'

Calypso shook her head. 'I don't like coffee. I'll have tea, thanks. English Breakfast, if they want something specific.'

Leo blinked at her. 'You don't like coffee?'

She grinned at his shock before waving him off. 'Go on. Question my insanity later.'

Shaking his head incredulously, he walked off to the counter.

When he returned, he sat down opposite Calypso in the booth and raised his eyebrows. 'You don't like coffee.'

She shook her head. 'Nope.'

There was a pause, and he seemed to be thinking deeply. 'Why English Breakfast tea?'

She gave him a look. 'Why cappuccinos? And why lattes? It just appeals to me, that's all.'

He laughed. 'Alright, fine. It's freaking ironic, though . . .'

They spent the next forty five minutes talking about a variety of things – a good portion of this being badmouthing Calypso's job. She learnt that Leo had recently managed to collect enough funds to finally open his business, which was remarkable considering he was only nineteen, like her. He worked under the name of: Leo's Garage: Auto Repair and Mechanical Monsters. He was a mechanic, and that explained why he smelt like engine grease. Granted, he was still fairly poor, and had to work almost all hours of the day (excluding this one), but he told her he wouldn't have it any other way.

When he talked, it also gave Calypso the opportunity to take in his appearance properly. His curly hair was very dark, and if left untamed was probably quite wild. He had an almost elfish face and bright brown eyes; the latter of which gave him the appearance of having drunk too much caffeine. His fingers were constantly tapping – on the table, on his leg, on the side of his mug when his drink arrived.

Calypso pointed this out. 'You're so hyper.'

He nodded. 'Yeah. ADHD.'

She frowned. 'Narrow that down for me.'

'Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. I've got dyslexia, too. Bit of an unlucky combo, really.'

'That explains your note, then.'

'Hmm?'

'I wondered about the spelling.'

'Oh, yeah.' He gave a guilty grin. 'Can't help that, sorry.'

He cracked jokes on a frequent basis, and triggered grudging smiles from her. He was annoying, yes, but at the same time she found it remarkably endearing. She didn't mind so much, now.

Then, all of a sudden, their time was up; surprisingly a lot sooner than Calypso had expected.

'Don't pretend you didn't enjoy yourself,' Leo said as they walked out the door. 'Because I sure as heck know you did.'

Calypso shrugged and gave a small smile, but didn't say anything.

'You look like you could use a little more fun,' he continued. 'I'll swing by again tomorrow and pick you up. Sound alright?'

She paused for a moment, before looking at him and nodding. 'Yes. It does.'

Suddenly, her week became remarkably more bearable. Calypso actually found herself looking forward to Leo's visits each day. In fact, she got so caught up in it that by the time next Tuesday came, she suddenly realised she was in a lot of trouble.

The second Leo walked in the door, he could tell she was worried.

'What's up, Sunshine?'

She swallowed and ran a hand up and down her arm. 'I still haven't found a job, and I have to leave this one tomorrow.'

He bit his lip, his initially hyper mood deflating. 'Damn. That really sucks.'

'Yes. I know.'

He took her hand and led her out onto the street, before dropping it again and standing still, apparently thinking. Then he said: 'Come on. I wanna show you something.'

He led her to a motorbike he had left standing in one of the car parks, before handing her his helmet. She cautiously put it on, and he gestured to the mode of transport. It had been painted bronze, and looked remarkably unlike anything she had seen before.

'Say hello to Festus.'

She gave Leo a funny look. 'You named your motorbike?'

He looked offended. 'Hell, yeah. Why not?'

She shrugged. 'Nothing.'

'Good.' He got on, and offered his hand to her. She cautiously clambered on behind him, and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist. She tried to ignore the fact that despite the engine grease, he smelled really good. To distract herself, she focused on his suspenders and started counting the fibres in them. Then the roar of the bike started up and they were moving.

Calypso immediately stopped counting the fibres and buried her face in Leo's back. Something about the moving made her feel funny, and she really didn't want to think about falling off. He seemed to realise that she was petrified, and laughed. Somehow, the sound calmed her a bit.

'It's fine, really,' he assured her. 'You'll get used to it.'

Calypso wasn't so sure.

Ten torturous minutes later, however, they slowed to a stop outside a building. It was a single storey, with several large roller doors on the front. There was a normal door around the side.

'Is this your business?' Calypso asked as she absorbed the sight.

Leo nodded. 'Yep.' He pushed open the door and stepped back so she could walk inside.

Inside, the floor was concrete, and the walls and roof were corrugated iron. There were shelves upon shelves of car parts, and there were three out on the floor, apparently undergoing repairs.

'See all this?' Leo said. 'There's a lot of money and numbers involved. And me; I'm both stupid and dyslexic.' Calypso swatted him on the arm, but he continued, undeterred. 'People don't generally trust a teenager straight out of school doing their paperwork, but hey, they might trust a pretty teenager straight out of school. What say you?'

Calypso paused. 'Wait. You're hiring me?'

He shrugged offhandedly. 'If you want. I can't afford to pay much, but it's probably more than that damn café.'

'Anything is better than that place,' she said breathlessly, looking around. 'I don't – I – I'm not -'

'Take it or leave it, Sunshine,' he said, cracking a grin.

'I – I'll take it.'

'Good choice.' He clapped her on the arm, and Calypso felt butterflies explode in her stomach. Then, in a spur-of-the-moment decision, because her relief and happiness was ridiculously overwhelming, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him.

The aftermath was not so pretty. The second she realised what she had done, Calypso yanked herself away just as quickly, before turning and bolting.

Damn it. She had just messed things up badly.

In the past, she had been awful with acting upon instinct, and now it had just landed her in an irreversible position. There was no doubt Leo didn't want to hire her now.

The path felt harder than usual beneath her feet as she sprinted back in the direction of the café, and the heat of the day was scorching. Sweat was already running down the back of her neck as she began to navigate pedestrian crossings, zigzagging her way through the streets.

It took her a moment to realise she was crying. Damn it, she had been so stressed out this past week, with trying to find a job, and suppressing a gradual build-up of emotions for Leo, that she supposed she was going to crack sooner or later.

She just couldn't believe that she'd fallen for him that quickly.

It wasn't fair. She already had a messed up family – her parents were divorced – and now she was living alone in the middle of Texas without a job or a university degree. And now, fate probably wasn't going to allow her to have a love life.

Typically.

Suddenly she was there – in the safety of the café, relishing the air conditioning. With a sigh, she wiped away the tears and went to put her apron back on.

What was she going to do now?

She didn't expect a visit from Leo the next day, so she wasn't surprised when he didn't come. That didn't stop the horrible sinking feeling in her chest however, and she was a lot more deflated than usual as she went about her business. Michael had already returned her folder of paperwork and personal details, and she had shoved it into her handbag with a resigned feeling. After today, she would be unemployed.

She didn't like the thought.

At five o'clock, she was ready to leave for the last time. The floor was swept, the glasses cleaned, and Calypso was just about to shut the door and flip the Closed sign when a motorbike pulled up. A familiar looking rider got off and removed his helmet.

'Wait, Sunshine!'

Calypso froze, a sick feeling building in the bottom of her stomach.

'What do you want?' she asked sullenly.

'Well, you disappeared a bit to quickly yesterday. I didn't have time to ask you for something.'

She sighed. 'And what is that?'

He gave a shrug as though it were obvious. 'Your paperwork.'

She paused. 'What?'

'Your paperwork,' he repeated. 'I can't hire you without tax details or anything, now, can I?'

'Wh – hire me?'

'That's what we agreed on, wasn't it?'

'Y-you still want to?'

He shrugged. 'Sure. I don't see why that should change. And besides, you're a fantastic kisser. I'd be stupid to let you go now, wouldn't I?'

Calypso just stood there, gaping like a fish out of water.

'Well,' Leo prodded. 'Say something.'

'I -' Slowly, a grin began to unfurl on Calypso's face. 'Thank you!' Then, she quite promptly launched herself at him in a hug. He laughed as they stumbled fully out onto the path and hugged her back just as tightly, swaying a little bit. Then, he made the move and turned his head to kiss her, right there, in the middle of the street. Calypso felt those butterflies come back in a violent horde, and moved her arms so they were around his shoulders, and kissed him back.

This time, no one ran away.

Calypso knew she could get used to it.