Disclaimer: NCIS does not belong to me. No copyright infringement is intended.


The Lives We Touch

You can tell a lot about people by the kind of coffee they drink.

Anna likes to guess, when people walk through the door, what they are going to order. It's lame, she knows, but it helps pass the time. And while she can definitely think of worse jobs than this one, it's still not exactly the most exciting work around. So she keeps herself entertained by noting customers' preferences, and trying to guess who they are, what their lives are like. If nothing else, it helps her stay awake. And since she switched to this ridiculously-early-in-the-morning shift last week, she's needed all the help she can get.

Some people are easy. The redhead with the thick braid and the Birkenstocks will order something with soy, probably with a bran muffin. The middle-aged police officer is definitely a black coffee kind of guy. The shy little girl with blonde pigtails doesn't even have to finish stammering out her order before Anna has written "hot chocolate" on the side of her cup.

But every once in a while, there's a surprise, and Anna always loves it when that happens. Sad, maybe, that that's about the most exciting thing that happens in her life these days, but in any case, it always brings a smile to her face when she gets an order that's completely unexpected. She loves it when the polished, fashion-model-slender woman in four-inch stilettos orders a giant cinnamon roll that she eats with her hands, getting sticky icing all over her perfectly-manicured nails. Or when the muscular, weather-beaten construction worker orders a green tea on his way to work.

Anna hasn't been working this shift long enough to know who the regulars are, yet, but it doesn't usually take long. After a while, she knows to give the single mother with three kids and dark circles under her eyes a stack of extra napkins, without her having to ask. She knows that the college student who must have a tough class on Friday mornings wants six shots in his espresso, and makes it automatically, even though she gets jittery just thinking about that much caffeine.

She is massaging her temples, trying desperately to stay awake, when the bell attached to the front door jingles softly. A woman with layered, shoulder-length dark hair walks in, and something about her posture reminds Anna of…but no. Katie hadn't looked anything like this woman. Besides, that was years ago. Where had that thought come from?

"Good morning!" she says, in the bright, cheerful voice she always uses with customers, mostly because if she doesn't, she's afraid that she'll tell them to go away, or demand to know why any sane person would be out of bed this early in the morning in the first place. "What can I get for you today?"

The woman smiles back at her, which is unusual in itself. This early in the morning, most of the customers Anna deals with are less than cheerful. She has actually become pretty used to being grunted at. Not that she can blame them, really. It's not as though she does well with mornings, either. "A medium coffee, with milk and sweetener," the woman tells her, and Anna feels her eyes widen. She has to take a deep breath. What is with her, this morning? She deliberately shakes it off.

"Can I get your name?" she asks calmly, sharpie poised over the cardboard cup.

"Kate."

Anna freezes. Relax, she tells herself firmly. Deep breath. So they have the same name – sort of. Not a big deal. Besides, for all she knows, Kate is short for Caitlin, or something. Not Katherine. And really, how many people in DC take their coffee with milk and sweetener? Probably half the city! So why is she suddenly feeling so…unnerved?

After a moment, she realizes the woman – Kate – is looking at her oddly. Well, no wonder. Anna still hasn't managed to write the name on the cup and take the credit card from her hand. "Sorry," she murmurs, trying to snap out of it. She takes the credit card and swipes it quickly, handing it back with an apologetic, if somewhat forced, smile.

"Thank you," Kate tells her.

"Have a nice day." Anna watches her leave, still unable to shake the feeling that there's something so familiar about her. Posture isn't even the right word for it. It's more…something in the way she carries herself. Confidence, sure, but something else. Purpose, maybe. Or direction. Like she knows exactly where she's going, and has something to do when she gets there.

Katie had always looked like that, too. Even when her sister had been home, walking down the hallway in jeans and a sweatshirt, Anna had always had the impression that she was answering a summons, or something. That she had somewhere important she needed to be. She'd always thought that Katie was the only person she knew who could somehow wear pajamas and still look like she was in uniform.

But this woman didn't look military. For one thing, she was wearing a skirt and sweater. And her hair was down. Katie had always worn a bun, or a French braid with the end tucked under, when she was on duty. Still, there was something about her…


To be continued...