Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was 4am in Huddersfield: the only people awake were drunks just getting home from a night on the town and Yasmin Khan. 

It had been another night of being unable to fall asleep. During the day things were easier, what with all the distractions that kept her busy, especially as she was trying to settle in a new town, but when it got dark and the world got silent, her thoughts began to plague her. 

It had been a normal day a few weeks ago, pushing paperwork and drinking shit coffee. Then she got the call about a missing kid. 

Things were fine in the end, thank the stars, but the whole ordeal took a toll on her. 

The child had run away, just like she had all those years ago when she was still at school, and in the process of trying to hunt the girl down, she had uncovered her own demons that lurked deep in her mind, where she had stashed them away, covered with loose papers, extra classes, and her police training. 

She quit after that. Couldn’t take the stress and could barely get any rest as her mental health took a nose dive back into her teenage mind. 

Which is how she found herself in Huddersfield. It was meant to be a new start and she was excited – well, some part of her was, at least. 

Unable to take just lying in her bed – technically just a mattress on the floor at the moment – she got up and walked around her flat, passing half-empty boxes on the way to the window. 

She pulled up a chair and opened the window, feeling the slight cool breeze carry her worries away for the time being. 

After staying there for an hour, she decided it might be best to go out. Why not explore a little while there wasn’t anyone about?

So she tossed on some clothes, an orange jumper with a large white star on the front and her leather jacket, and headed out onto the cobbled streets. 

It was peaceful, really. The chirp of birds and the sounds of the city barely coming to life was enough to put a small smile on her face. 

Only the occasional dogwalker could be seen, no other signs of life appeared until it neared 7 o’clock. Then, all around her, shops began to open and people began their commutes to work, the West Yorkshire town coming to life. 

As it approached halfway to the hour, she stumbled across a tiny restaurant advertising German-inspired vegan food. With her interest piqued, she pushed open the door, a small bell that went ding announcing her entrance. 

Inside was an eclectic clash of blues and yellows, mixed in with the more traditional dark brown wood of the benches, chairs, and tables. It was like a paint store had spilled into a German beer hall. 

Weirdly, it was rather calming. 

The next thing that struck her were the smells. Apparently it was easy to forget that this was a restaurant, until, at least, you were hit by the delicious aromas. 

It was hard to pinpoint what scent was what, but mouthwatering was a good enough descriptor. That was certainly enough to convince Yaz to stick around for some breakfast; may as well seeing as she had an empty fridge, aside from a dozen or so babybels, and her stomach was now rumbling. 

A new dilemma now emerged, does she just sit down anywhere? No one else was there after all. Or does she wait to be seated? 

Her internal mental framework was working overtime to draw on past experiences of being in a similar situation, then when it realised she hadn’t, it gave up. 

Luckily, as she was about to need to make a decision, a woman in an apron appeared from what must be the kitchen. 

“Hiya, how do? You can sit anywhere ya want! Seat by t’window is ace though, great views, so I recommend that one, unless y’hung over, then o’course t’light probably ain’t much help.”

“Hey,” Yaz said, struggling to take in the flurry of words coming at her. “Window sounds nice.”

“Brilliant,” the woman said, guiding her to her seat and handing over a menu from the pocket on the front of her apron, which definitely didn’t seem big enough to fit it. “I’ll give ya a mo’ t’decide, just shout if y’need me.”

“Thanks.” Yaz breathed a sigh of relief as she left. The woman seemed nice, if a little intense, and very good looking, which was totally not something she had noticed. 

She glanced over the menu, seeing some familiar names like ‘Sauerkraut’ and ‘Schnitzel’, but also some new ones, like ‘Maultaschen’ and ‘Spätzle’. 

After a while of trying to decode the dishes from the descriptions, which were thankfully in English, she decided that asking for help was likely to be the best option, seeing as her experience with German foods was limited and vegan German food was likely a whole other ball game. 

“Um, excuse me. Hi, yeah, I was wondering if you could help me decide. I’m not too familiar with German food.”

“’Course I can! Me favourite t’start is the pretzel so I recommend that, who doesn’t love a pretzel! Then here,” she pointed to the middle of the laminated sheet, “are the mains. Schnitzel is very popular and so is currywurst. I meself like the schnitzel but it depends on what yer after.“

“I’ll take the schnitzel I think, I know what that one is. And the pretzel since you were so convincing.”

“Brill! Owt to drink?”

“Do you have Pepsi?”

“I do indeed! Finally someone with taste who don’t just pretend t’like Coke t’feel cool.“ 

Laughing, Yaz nodded her agreement before answering. “I’ll take a Pepsi then. Thanks for your help.”

With that, the blonde woman headed to the back, presumably to cook. It wasn't particularly busy from what Yaz could see outside the window, though it was still early, and that reflected in the lack of customers in the restaurant. 

She was the only one there so she took a better look around at her surroundings. In the couple of minutes that she had been in the building, the strange colours had grown on her. It all strangely worked and seemed reminiscent of how chaotic the owner was – Yaz assumed the woman was the owner at least, since there seemed to be no other staff around. 

A couple minutes later she received her drink, then not long after she got her food too. It was steaming hot and smelled heavenly. 

The blonde placed the dish in front of Yaz then began to explain what everything was like she was at a Michelin star restaurant – not that she was complaining. Not least because she seemed to enjoy the woman’s company. 

“The schnitzel is wheat gluten and nutritional yeast, then it’s breaded and fried in vegetable oil.”

“Fancy. It smells so good.”

“Bon appetit! Or I guess guten appetit. Either way, enjoy your meal.”

Yaz didn’t need to be told twice. She immediately dug in, cutting a piece of the fake cutlet and dipping it in the gravy with a little sauerkraut, trying really hard to hold back a moan at how tasty it was. 

As she was halfway through, the woman appeared again, asking how she was finding it. 

“It’s proper good this. Best German food I’ve ever had, that's for sure.”

“I’m glad t’hear it!”

“Also I’m sorry but what’s your name?” Yaz asked, a sheepish smile on her face.

“Frieda, but you can call me Freddi.”

“Nice to meet you Freddi. I’m Yasmin, Yaz to my friends.”

“Well I’ll call you Yaz ‘cos we’re friends now.” Freddi said grinning from ear to ear, extending a hand out. “What do you think of the schnitzel?”

“So amazing!” Yaz gushed, slowly shaking the other woman’s hand. 

“Wanna know the secret?” Freddi whispered, using her hand to cover her mouth and raising her eyebrows conspiratorially. 

“Sure,” Yaz replied, playing along. 

“It were deep fried-a.” She said then couldn’t contain her own laughter. 

Yaz groaned but quickly fell into her own fit of giggles in tandem with her new friend. 

“That were awful!”

“Made ya laugh though.”

“Yes, it did. Now I have to ask. You sound like you’re from Yorkshire but German food and Frieda being your name?”

“Me parents were German so I grew up eating German foods. Then I became vegan like 13 years ago and figured why give up me childhood faves when I could just make the dishes vegan instead.”

“Well you’ve done a great job.”

Instead of replying, Freddi seemed to be frozen in place with a strange look on her face, which quickly disappeared as she snapped out of it and left, leaving Yaz thoroughly confused. 

She came back as Yaz was finishing her meal, holding a smaller menu. “Fancy dessert?”

“Sure. What have you got?”

“Everythin’! Well not everythin’ but a lot. We got bienenstich, schwarzwälder kirschtorte, käsekuchen, dampfnudeln mit vanillesauce, and eiskaffee.”

“Uhm, come again?”

“Some of those were cakes and the dampfnudeln mit vanillesauce is a dumpling with vanilla sauce.”

When Yaz still didn’t seem to be any closer to a decision, Freddi came up with a solution. “Why don’t I surprise ya?”

Chuckling lightly, Yaz readily agreed. She hated making decisions.

“It’ll be right out then!”

It was now about 8:40am and people were starting to go shopping and the bustle of the city was just audible from inside the little shop. 

She watched as a small fluffy white dog laid on the ground, followed by their owner who scooped it up in a doggybed and carried it around like a giant burrito. Then a person with light shaggy hair with a snake wrapped around their shoulders nearly toppled over as their dog jumped at them.

Huddersfield was strange. 

Sipping the last dregs of her soda, she spotted Freddi precariously carrying two plates while pushing the door open with her butt. 

“Hiya! I thought you’d like spaghettieis but then figured you might like zwetschgenkuchen too, which is a plum cake, so I got both!” Proudly she placed them down and excitedly watched Yaz’s face for her reaction. 

“They both look great but there’s no way I could eat both, I’m far too full.”

“Well why don’t I join ya?”

“I’d like that.”

Freddi pulled out the chair opposite Yaz and then handed her one of two spoons. Two spoons, Yaz noticed, but she didn’t comment on it. 

“Start with the spaghettieis. It‘s a vegan ice cream I made then put through a ricer.”

Yaz took a spoonful and put it into her mouth, eyes going wide at the taste. “It’s so sweet! Is it oat milk?”

“Yep!” she answered, popping the p at the end. “Now try the plum cake.”

“That’s not as sweet as I thought it’d be.”

“Right?!” Freddi agreed, leaning forwards towards Yaz. “The tartness of the plums is my favourite bit, even if I have the world’s biggest sweet tooth.”

“Well I like them both, very German.”

Freddi rolled her eyes at Yaz, but also turned her head, revealing her earcuff. 

“Don’t roll your German eyes at me!” 

“Get stuck in then.”

They ate in peace, occasionally making small talk, like family and hobbies, until both dishes had been polished off. 

The whole time, not another soul entered the restaurant, although Yaz wouldn’t complain. She got the good-looking blonde all to herself after all. 

“Right, I really should get going.” Yaz said after a while of sitting in comfortable silence. A quick glance down at her watch told her it was quarter past 10 and she couldn’t spend the entire day there. 

“I’ll just get you t’bill” Freddi said, a little glimmer in her hazel eyes. 

A moment later, a small black book was brought over with a receipt inside. It had no items in it, and the total amount read an extremely high price which looked suspiciously like a phone number. 

In response to the questioning look Yaz shot her new friend, Freddi smiled slightly sheepishly. “‘S on t’house. No arguments, it’s me treat! It were lovely meetin’ ya, Yaz.”

With the serious expression on Freddi’s face, she knew she wouldn’t be allowed to pay so she simply thanked her and grabbed her jacket. 

“Hope I see you soon!” the blonde said as she was leaving, reminding Yaz of the phone number tucked away safely in her pocket. 

She could tell that she would be frequenting the little German restaurant with the chaotic owner whenever she couldn’t sleep – or any other time she happened to think of Freddi.