A/N: A oneshot for Tamara, because I haven't written enough Ellsworld yet! Enjoy!

--

Every Wednesday morning, before morning rush hour, Matilda would take the girls to her favorite coffee shop on 7th, the cozy little place shoved in-between two high-rise buildings and with a little second-floor home above.

Every Wednesday morning, Matilda would give a cheery hello to the cute barista on duty -- always a shy, soft-spoken boy whose nametag read (y/n). And every Wednesday, the girls would get the same thing: An iced coffee with one pump of cream for Tori, a lemonade for Ell, a caramel frappe for Matilda, and a water bottle for Tamara.

They would always sit at the same exact table by the front window, and they'd talk about the same exact things. Tamara would spend her time taking sips from her water bottle and gazing in the direction of the cake display, wondering to herself if she should get herself a little slice of cake to go with her water.

But then the barista would call out Matilda's name, she'd get it, pay, and they'd leave soon after.

Tamara usually didn't think twice about that little shop. She just saw it as just another hang-out spot for the girls, and she admitted she liked the cozy interior.

Every Friday night, she and Tori would go to a karaoke bar just down the street for drinks. Tamara claimed it to be the best karaoke bar in town, and Tori liked scoping out potential for flirting. (Hey, at least the woman was opportunistic. She'd drunkenly confessed to wanting to tap both genders enough times for it to stick. That, and she liked handing out the numbers to her friends as a wingwoman. Tamara had to admit, she was good.)

But one Friday night, they got there later than usual. Tamara hadn't been able to find her phone and Tori was still busy putting on lip gloss, so they'd arrived an hour later than they usually would.

They still intended to keep up their usual routine of ordering drinks, drinking said drinks, and then leaving (or in Tori's case, possibly flirting with some random guy or gal, and then leaving with their number).

But just after they ordered drinks for their table, a guy got up on stage and started singing along to Bohemian Rhapsody. It was obvious that he was drunk, but at least he was hitting the Galileos while not slurring.

Tori watched with interest, leaning over to ask, "Hey, Tamara, isn't that the guy at that coffee place Matilda drags us to every week?"

Tamara had to swallow her sip and lean forward, squinting. When she saw who it was, her eyes widened, "Oh, it is that guy!"

He seemed way different while not in uniform and, well, y'know, drunkenly belting out the lyrics to Queen over a cheering front-row audience. He wore a loose (f/c) button-up and white pants, some bracelet on his wrist and eyeliner making his eyes pop.

He looked pretty good, Tamara mused over her Smirnoff. Hella good.

"Want me to get his number?" Tori giggled, nudging her in the side. "He'd make a pret-ty fine guy friend!"

"What? No." Tamara nearly choked. "I-- I mean, it's not that big of a deal. We see him every Wednesday, wouldn't it be awkward walking in after seeing him here?"

Tori paused, humming, "You have a good point."

"Of course I do." Tamara nodded in agreement, going back to her drink.

Then the blond grinned. "I'll just wait until Wednesday then!"

This time, Tamara really did do a spit-take. "Tori!"

True to her word, despite all the pleading Tamara did with her to try and dissuade her, Tori marched up to the counter and put on her best grin for (y/n). "Hiya! I can't help but notice you're always the barista on duty every Wednesday we come in here."

"O-- oh, yeah, well, that's my shift," (y/n) said lamely, nervously chuckling. "A-- anyway, what can I get you?"

"Just a slice of that delicious-looking vanilla cake," she said, winking, "and your number."

After the embarrassed choking on her water that Tamara did, she lay her head down on the table to try and cool the firy burning in her face until Tori sauntered back over, triumphant, with her slice of cake in tow.

She sat down next to the brunette with a grin. "Don't worry, friend! I've saved your ass again, just like I always do."

When Tamara looked up, Tori was sliding her a piece of paper. Hastily scribbled on it was the boy's name and number.

She rose an eyebrow in disbelief. "Why'd you do that?"

Rolling her gray eyes, the girl exclaimed, "So you'll stop mooning over him! Don't think I haven't noticed you staring at him the last few times we've been in here."

"She does have a point," Ell pointed out, giving her a shrug and a smile. "Every time I ask you a question, you're always looking at him."

Mortified and blushing, Tamara pocketed the slip of paper and took a tentative glance at the barista.

He was looking over at her too, and when he noticed her eyes he gave her a shy smile and a 'call me' sign.

She hid her face in Tori's shoulder, much to the Norwegian's amusement.

"You only owe me a say on dinner tonight," the girl giggled, patting her back. "It's the least I can do for helping your sorry excuse of a love life!"

"One more word about it, and you're dead, Tori." Tamara threatened half-heartedly from her shoulder.