Outside Work We... •[TNN One-shots]•

First Meet •|| MARJUMN ||•

Prompt: Autumn and Marjorie meet for the first time.
[AU]

Autumn Knight strode down the busy street, the sharp chill of late autumn biting at her cheeks. The paper bag in her arm radiated the comforting warmth of a freshly baked baguette. She liked this time of day—the bustling energy of people, the occasional crisp laugh of strangers. It gave her a sense of normalcy.

She was about to cross the street when movement caught her eye—a woman with caramel-brown hair and a hunter-green coat, walking briskly while staring intently at her phone. Something about the way she carried herself—quick steps, a slight furrow in her brow—made her look like she was on a mission. A distracted one.

Autumn noticed it immediately: the street sign directly in her path.

She paused, debating whether to intervene. But before she could decide, the inevitable happened.

Thunk.

The woman collided with the sign, her phone clattering to the ground. She stumbled, clutching her forehead as a sharp “Ow!” escaped her lips. For a moment, she stood frozen, glaring at the offending pole as though sheer indignation would make it disappear.

Autumn’s lips twitched into a faint smirk. Of course, it had been too good to stop. She adjusted the paper bag under her arm and approached, her boots clicking against the pavement.

“You alright there?” she asked, her tone even, almost disinterested.

The woman spun to face her, her wide hazel eyes locking onto Autumn’s cool, steady gaze. “I—yeah. I’m fine,” she stammered, brushing her hair back. “Just didn’t see that.”

“Clearly,” Autumn said, her smirk deepening just enough to show amusement. “Street signs. Sneaky things, aren’t they?”

The woman blinked, her embarrassment giving way to a wry smile. “You could say that.” She bent down to pick up her phone, inspecting it for damage. “At least my phone survived.”

“Lucky phone,” Autumn said flatly, though her eyes lingered on the woman a bit longer than she intended. She turned slightly, shifting the weight of the baguette against her side.

The woman straightened and extended a hand, confidence blooming despite the red mark blooming on her forehead. “Marjorie Van Gould. Professional lamppost magnet.”

Autumn stared at the offered hand for a moment before accepting it, her grip firm. “Autumn Knight. Witness to… whatever that was.”

Marjorie chuckled, and Autumn caught herself noticing how her laugh seemed to warm the chill in the air. Annoying. She let go of Marjorie’s hand and adjusted her scarf.

“Well, Autumn Knight,” Marjorie said, slipping her phone into her pocket, “since I’ve already made a fool of myself, can I buy you a coffee? Consider it my way of distracting you from this forehead fiasco.”

Autumn arched an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. “You think I need distracting?”

Marjorie tilted her head, her smile widening. “Maybe not. But it’s cold, and you look like someone who appreciates caffeine.”

Autumn hesitated. Her instinct was to say no, keep walking, and forget this ever happened. But her feet betrayed her, staying rooted in place. There was something disarming about Marjorie’s confidence, her quick recovery from humiliation.

“I could spare a few minutes,” Autumn said finally, her voice carefully neutral. “But don’t think this means I’m buying the next round.”

Marjorie laughed again, stepping aside to gesture toward a café down the street. “Deal. Come on, baguette girl.”

Autumn’s smirk returned, faint and fleeting. Without a word, she fell into step beside Marjorie, her thoughts frustratingly tangled between annoyance and curiosity.