clouds in my coffee: chapter 2 - a carrison fanfiction
Rating: T
Summary: Carrie Fisher is a published author who just got out of a toxic, long relatioship. Harrison Ford is a divorced father of two who owns a little coffee shop on 53rd street in New York.What will happen when they meet? Full of coffee, books and cuteness.
Disclaimer: this is a real person fan fiction, so it all definitely came from our imagination and we’re not trying to offend anyone (you know the drill). The quotes in the fic are from “Surrender The Pink” by Carrie Fisher, so we don’t claim them.
A/N: here is the second chapter (finally!) that angie ( @soreidy27 ) and i co-wrote!
On AO3
I hope you like it and don’t forget to tell me your thoughts on it!
Hearing the now familiar sound of the tiny bell as she opened the door, Carrie let her lungs fill with the delicious and warm scent of freshly roasted coffee and pastries. In less than a week, this little, family oriented coffee shop had become a sort of safe place for her. The creative process was always spectacular when she sat on the corner table, her laptop and a mug of coffee on the ready.
Something unexpected began to happen, though. Every day, like clockwork, the handsome, yet not so talkative, owner of the cafe would catch her eye, unknowingly becoming somewhat of a muse for her work. Who would’ve thought?
“Hiya doll, the usual?” Charlotte greets, in a sweet, southern drawl. Carrie offers her a soft smile as she nods, making her way to the usual table.
Then, out of the blue, an overwhelming need to run back to Paul blindsids her. It feels like… like LA with him. The coffee shop where they used to meet and pass their day, content (as content as she believed herself to be before she realized the truth of that relationship: a one sided, emotionally exhausting ordeal). Stop, don’t open that door.
The brunette chastises herself as she pulls her laptop from her purse and begins writing: the most effective distraction to her dead and buried love life.
“There was a tap at the window. Ingrid nudged Dinah, shifting into Drive, who looked up and saw Rudy Gendler through the fine, twinkling snow. “Do you remember me?” he called through the glass.
Something in Rudy’s face, in his presence, infused Dinah with feelings of longing and a sort of hope. His certainly shone through the snow.”
Carrie looks up from her laptop and takes a long sip of her just-brewed coffee. She just means to take a small break, one or two seconds. However, the shop’s owner catches her attention. No, not catches , that would be an understatement. The masculinity his flannel shirt and disheveled hair give him clashes with the swift, seamless way he runs the place, rushing orders around and brewing that unbelievable pot of coffee, ripping her attention away from her, dragging it on the floor of the coffee shop, all the way until she’s naked, vulnerable, bare.
She fixates on him, almost as though she’s studying him for science class, planning on writing a detailed report on all his mannerisms and facial features, complete with bullet points and a list of sources. A creature of solitude, huh?
“ Maybe no man is an island, but some sure look like them. All safe and dry and looming on her horizon. As she rolled down the window, she thought, if only she could be that certain, that safe, that dry, that apart. He became not, in that instant, so much her ideal mate, as her ideal. She wanted to become this person. If only she might cast her lot in with his and one day find their two lots inextricably confused. Dinah Kaufman is Rudy Gendler.”
“ You planning on taking a break anytime soon?” Carrie hears the gruff voice she hadn't been able to rid her thoughts of. With a subtle smile playing on her lips, she turns her head and feasts her eyes on the broad man before her. Dressing in a simple gray t-shirt and, for the first time since she met him, foregoing the apron, is Harrison Ford.
“How long have you been checking me out for?” Carrie asks, amused, and offers Harrison a sly smile, her brown eyes shining with mirth at the implication of her catching his attention. She still finds herself fascinated by the grumpy coffee shop owner: the way he seems unfazed by the people constantly around him, his aura of authority yet uncaring of what others did. It’s undeniably interesting to observe him, thrilling like watching your favorite movie for the first time. The mere thought that the object of her thorough observations would take a few seconds of his time spent looking at her enough to comment on her behavior is surprisingly flattering.
“What makes you so sure I was checking you out?” She can hear the amusement underlining his air of nonchalance. It almost causes a chuckle to escape out of her pursed lips. Almost .
“I - umm, want a refill?” Harrison asks her, clearly deflecting her question, embarrassed? Carrie gives him a small, secretive smile before turning back to her laptop, reading over the last few words she’s written, deciding that it was indeed time for a break.
“Sure,” she replies, pushing her mug towards her very own barista. He fills it up until he reaches the brim. “You know, coffee is like oxygen to me.” She muses, trying to strike up some twisted version of a conversation. “Without it I’d probably stop talking or walking or doing this thing I do with words, ya know?”
He chuckles lightheartedly at her silly attempt at small talk: “Writing, you mean?”
Seriously, Carrie? “Doing this thing I do with words”? “Yeah, the putting-words-into-sentences thing.” Yes, an extreme improvement.
He stares at her for a brief second, just hovering there in the moment, before he turns around: “I’ll leave you to it, then.” and walks away.
Carrie shakes her head at her sudden lack of wit and takes a big gulp of her black coffee. The refill is rather strong.
“He asked Dinah for her number and she wrote it on an old receipt with an eyebrow pencil of Ingrid’s and passed it to him. The snowflakes were falling slower now, larger. Rudy slipped the number into his pant pocket, nodded to Ingrid and to Dinah, the strolled off through the swirling snow. An explorer in this metropolitan wilderness. It had taken a blizzard to bring Rudy back into Dinah’s life; Lord knew what it would take to pry him out.”
“Hey darlin’, you want a bite to eat?” Charlotte startles Carrie straight out of her writing trance.
“Huh?” she questions, battling a migraine that hours of looking at the screen of her computer earned her.
“Food, dear. It’s eight o’clock.” She explains, pointing at the big, brown, wooden clock on the wall of Dorothy’s.
“Is it really that late?” Carrie asks rhetorically. “I must’ve got distracted with the time.” She smiles apologetically. “Sorry for hogging the table all day long.”
Charlotte smiles back and responds: “Oh dear, it’s fine by me. Good to have some female company here regularly, actually.” Carrie frowns so imperceptibly that the lady doesn’t even notice. “It’s Mr. Ford you should probably apologize to.” She says it in a sing-song voice, obviously a joke. It makes Carrie wonder though. A regular female company? Huh, I really have been coming here every day for the past week.
“I should get home, then.” she smiles, slightly embarrassed.
“Mr. Ford can fix ya a sandwich if you’d like!” Charlotte presses, a little too obviously so.
“No, it’s alright.” Carrie shoves her laptop in her purse and swings it on her shoulder.
Then, out of kitchen emerges Harrison, holding a paper cup of steaming coffee. “Bundle up, it’s cold outside.” he extends the beverage to her with a fleeting smile. Ah, caught it!
She looks at it quizzically though. ”For the drive home.” he explains, turning back around, resuming the closing-up process.
“Walk,” Carrie corrects as she takes a sip of her cup.
“What?” he mumbles, half paying attention.
“I walk home. It’s not far from here, actually.”
“Oh,” he breathes out, not really sure how to keep a conversation going with her.
“Anyway, how much do I owe you?” she asks, reaching for her wallet.
“Nothing,” he states, matter-of-factly. “A thanks for picking us.”
“Okay then.” she replies, pleased with his answer. “Thank you.” she smiles, wrapping her scarf around her exposed neck. Drawing his attention there, Harrison notices a small pendant hanging lonely around her neck. An initial, maybe? Some sort of symbol?
He doesn’t question her about it, though.
As she’s opening the door to leave, a cool breeze slips into the coffee shop. The little bell rings. Harrison turns around, finally, and fixes his gaze on her as she turns to the right and starts walking away.
“You should’ve asked her to stay. You should’ve asked her to eat dinner.” Charlotte says, focused on cleaning up the remaining tables. “It’s cold outside.”
“Come on, Charlotte.” He drags.
“Your momma would’ve liked her, ya know?” she insists.
“Relentless woman.” he laughs, closing up the blinds.
Finish Distractions fic I just rediscovered that I haven’t worked on since August 2016 (probably pretty close to being done so you might see this soon? Not promising anything, though)
Re-write the parts of ISAEDAIH that include Debbie because back then I held a different view and I hate myself for the way I wrote their relationship and really need to fix it to how I see their relationship now
Maybe eventually finish ISAEDAIH? Maybe.
Maybe write a Carrison baby fic for @purple-roses-words-and-love because she keeps begging for one, but I need to wait until I can really focus and try to do it justice
Finish the Christmas fic I started last year before… it’s depressing so I couldn’t bring myself to work on it anymore, but I do want to get back to it at some point
Some of the other many prompts that I have stored away in a document that I’ve thought would be fun to write / prompts you guys have asked for here (you can still send me some, I’m open to ideas)
@friskynotebook and @teamleiasolo suggested I write a sequel to Beauty of His Heart so I may do that as well
