Who: John Watson, Amy Pond What: Random meeting When: early afternoon Where: Grocery store Rating: PG Status: Complete
As much as John was liking America, there were always occasional moments where he desperately missed England. Like when he was considering things like tea. There was no tea here that was amazing, or right. Not like where he was from.
So really, it left him seeming a little disgruntled whilst standing in the tea and coffee aisle of the grocery store. There were a million options, but they all seemed like complete rubbish.
So he just kept staring hopefully.
Amy had passed by the coffee-and-tea aisle twice already, doing her scatterbrained shopping. She had a list, but it was more of a vague idea of what she needed, not all the things that she wanted that seemed to jump into her basket. Tea was the last thing on the list, so she headed to the aisle, and saw that same, poor man standing there in front of the rows and rows of different kinds of teas.
She stepped up beside him and stood there for a moment, staring down a box of Liptons.
“...finding what you’re looking for?” She asked aloud, then finally turned to look at him.
John looked over at her, almost comically, as she so easily picked out what she needed. How could she do that? How was it possible? “No,” he said. “I’m looking for tea,” If you looked up British in the dictionary, probably his picture would have been there, at this moment.
Amy was Scottish, and knew from good tea. A little grin crossed over her features as she heard the accent, and deciphered why he was standing in the tea aisle, looking so lost. “Twinnings is the best you’re gonna get here, I’m afraid.” She reached forward and picked up a box of the English Breakfast Tea and held it out to him.
He took it, thoughtfully looking at the label. “You’re afraid?” he repeated in question, half worried half amused. He supposed he could trust a girl with a Scottish accent about tea. At least a little bit. “Well, I suppose if I give it a try, I’ll have someone to blame if I don’t like it.”
“Well, it’s from London, and it’s good, it’s not great. But you can’t really get the good stuff in this place. They don’t carry imports here.” She said, giving a little shrug. “I’m more than willing to take the blame.” Amy said, giving him a grin. “Amy Pond,” she added, holding out her hand for him to shake.
It was such a cliche to meet people who might come to be friends in the grocery -- but John had to admit that he had certainly met his fair share of people in interesting ways lately, what with his new housemates. So really, there was no judging, here. He shook her hand, grinning wryly. “John Watson.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mister Watson,” Amy said, dropping her voice down to a very low, playful level when she said his name. “Are you new around here or just not used to this supermarket?” She asked, shifting her basket in her arms.
“Fairly new,” John replied, putting the tea into his shop basket and giving a little grin. “Do I seem that fresh?” He’d been traveling around a lot in the last few years, but had never settled down long enough to actually care to stock tea in his home, before.
“Just a bit, yeah.” Amy said, giving him a grin. “I mean, transplants like the two of us normally look for tea first thing. I’m a bit surprised it’s taken you until now to try and find some proper tea. Unless you brought a supply with you.”
John laughed. “I kind of had. And then it was all proper tea shops and coffee joints, you know. You come to America and you start to thinking maybe you should get on the coffee bandwagon?” He grinned. “Ordering it in different languages and all that.”
“Whoever came up with the word ‘venti’?” Amy laughed. “What does that even mean?” She shook her head a little. “I don’t know, there’s something to be said for some of those designer coffees, you know. Chocolate, coffee and whipped cream together make a little taste of heaven.” She added softly.
“The Italians, I think,” John said, mildly -- but not quite not making fun of her question. “True -- it’s a lot of sweets, but kind of good in it’s own right.” He paused, and then laughed before rubbing his hand through his hair. “I’ve never had a conversation with a strangers in a shoppe before.” He didn’t seem displeased about it though.
Amy went slightly pink. “Besides them, of course.” She said, brushing it off with a grin. She was absolutely the first person to laugh at herself. “Oh, yes. I have to admit, coffee, chocolate, whipped cream... almost beats tea. Almost.” Amy hadn’t ever struck up a conversation with a stranger in a shop before, and decided she’d tell him just that. “You know what? Neither have I. I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”
“Perhaps we’re just meant to be star-crossed grocery friends,” John said, because you know what, he was fucking smooth with the ladies.
Amy laughed. “You know... I can be down with that.” She said, grinning. “Star crossed grocery friends, huh?”
“Yes,” said John, feigning an expression of seriousness that was nearly hard to manage. “Yes. Fated from the beginning of time -- we meet again and again in every life, so that we may make jest in grocery markets.”
Amy nodded, though she couldn’t be serious. “Two old souls destined to meet over boxed tea and biscuits, fated to discuss the difficulties in finding a good cuppa so far from home.”
“Exactly,” said Watson, beyond amused. “We’re destined for a perpetual sense of deja vous in places like these, the two of us.”
“We’ll just have to try to make the best of it.” Amy said with a definitive nod. “Why try to fight fate?” She asked. “If we’re destined to be friends in the tea aisle, we’d better follow along with the plan.”
“It’s true,” John agreed with a wise nod. Because he was good like that. “Perhaps we should exchange numbers, so that we can know when to meet here again.”
“Sure.” Amy said, giving him a grin. She drew out her phone and held it over to him so he could punch his digits in. “I’ll text you with mine.”