Hatchetfield.

a single thread of gold

"You gotta trust me on this one Paul," Ted shoved one arm through a black puffer jacket that usually hung on the coat rack at the far end of his beige office. "This girl has a seriously hot bod. Like- what I would give to hit that."

"Ted, that's really gross." Paul, a tall, socially awkward 27 year old data analyst leaned against the door frame waiting for his coworker. The exact coworker who had been talking about this sexy barista for the past several days. Honestly, Paul couldn't be sure; he had basically zoned out whenever Ted had started a ramble- in order to avoid any crude remarks that would be permanently burned into his brain.

"C'mon Paul, it's 2014. There's nothing wrong with being sexually positive."

"There is something wrong with it when you're at work, and talking about a woman who doesn't even know you exist." Paul started out the door, heading towards the elevator.

Ted chased after him in a half-walk half-jog. "Just trust me."

"We'll see." Said Paul, just as the elevator closed on the tech floor of CCRP.

~~~

The men walked into a shitty local coffee shop, looking around at the green fuzzy chairs being filled with townies chatting over the casual indie music blasting from speakers in each corner. The long line nearly reached the door, but luckily Paul and Ted didn't need to worry about the October air. "Alright Ted, which one is she?"

"What do you mean which one is she? Look at her.. Look at that Latte Hatte.." Ted shifted uncomfortably, while Paul looked like he wanted to melt into the floor to get away from him. He changed his attention, and looked around at the baristas behind the counter. One was a plain woman with curly hair tied up in a knot behind a bright green visor, ordering around the two others. Must be the owner, Paul figured. His eyes moved to the taller girl. She was extremely conventionally attractive, but couldn't have been anything but her early twenties.

"Ted I swear to god if you're talking about that twenty year old I'm going to kill you." Paul dropped his head to his hands, massaging a fake headache.

"What are you talkin' about? She's not twenty! She's probably.." He trailed off, studying the girl's face for a moment. "Fuck. She's like really young, isn't she?"

"Yeah. Yeah she is." Paul looked back up, before his heart skipped a strange beat. There was still one more barista, a quite short brunette with an outstanding frown on her face. It looked like she was fighting with the man ordering, although he couldn't exactly hear what she was saying, her face made it very clear what message she was trying to get across.

"Hey, she looks new, I haven't seen her in here before." Ted shoved his friend out of the way to get a better view of the newest barista. "She's kind of cute. I mean, not really. But kind of." Paul didn't take his eyes off the new girl, trying to read her lips mid-argument (and failing.)

Sadly for Paul, Ted took notice of his instant infatuation. "Ooh, you think she's the latte hatte, don't you?" Ted grinned, speaking in a childish sing-songy tone, snapping Paul back into reality.

"What? No. No. I don't know what you're talking about." Paul was scrambling for any denial, mostly so Ted wouldn't immediately turn it into something innately sexual. "I'm just trying to see what she's yelling at that guy for." Something that wasn't a lie, but it sure sounded like one to Ted.

"Sure, sure, sure. Well don't worry my guy, I'll be your wingman."

Paul's stomach sunk to his feet. "Don't you fucking dare." He was just met with a sly grin. "I'm serious. I'll tell HR about what you do in your office."

"Fine!" Ted yelled, exasperated by the slight blackmail. After some more bored silence, they ended up at the front of the line.

"Oh, you're new, aren't you? You're pretty cute. Even if you're short as hell." Ted leaned over the counter, much to everyone else's dismay.