Avoid if triggered by misplaced apostrophe's. (essayel) wrote in morningstar_mnr, @ 2010-02-27 16:26:00 |
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Entry tags: | allan, andras, chas, del, fin, gil, isabella, leo, sibyl, vincenzo |
Mocha, afternoon, various pups OTA
Jackson and Evans had booked leave at the same time. This happened in even the best regulated offices. When one man said his vacation was end of February and the other said his was first week of March it sometimes took a while to catch on that those dates included a common weekend. So they had drawn straws who would cover the Saturday night and Vincenzo, fuming, had picked the wrong one. It didn't help that he also had the Saturday afternoon shift as well.
But coffee would keep him going. Lots of coffee.
He stood in the queue and waited his turn, thinking about what he had planned for Emily tomorrow.
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Fin had a book and some coffee and no commitments at all - which meant he was on edge and unhappy. He was a man who dearly loved a dead line. Also he had just had a very disturbing encounter with Andy Andrassy. He didn't dislike women in general but some were scary and she was just plain terrifying.
Lots of coffee was what he needed too.
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Another man with a book was Leo Beck, reading through that years edition of the writer's handbook with a slightly bemused expression on his face. Occasionally he reached out and stirred his tea - which was getting cold.
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Allan was garnering evil looks from the barista because he had been struck with a brilliant idea for a sculpture and to help the thought process was constructing a maquette out of pipecleaners and damp napkins. He always thought better if he had something to do with his hands.
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Gil had nothing at all to do for the moment - not even a paper to read - and was enjoying the comparative silence before he had to go to work. Not that he disliked his job - he loved it - but a few moments calm before the madness was to be relished.
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Del was less happy. He had worked last night, had a thick head, and suspected that Eris was making her mind up to move on. He'd go, of course - if she asked him to.
If.
He sipped his latte and wondered what he'd do if she didn't.
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Charlie glowed happily as he sat in the corner and drew. Deacon was watching the sport, Nia was having tea with Aunty Andy and Unka Ekka - he snickered every time she called Erik that, and Charlie could feel the gentle pressure of his little collar under the fold of the scarf swathing his neck.
He smiled across the Mocha, his pencil moving with confident strokes, and drew anyone who crossed his line of sight.