Claire was late for work, which was highly unusual and more than a little upsetting for her. She was accustomed to rising bright and early, and took pride in her hard-earned right to be smug when others entered the control room after her. Now, she was about to lose this ability, as her current tardiness would undoubtedly become the moment her colleagues referenced whenever she gave them hell for showing up late. "Don't you remember that one morning you didn't make it on time?" they'd say, and she would be powerless to deny the accuracy of their claims, for even though she had been punctual every day for half a decade, all it took for her subordinates to have leverage over her was one mistake, which she was forced to accept as an inevitable fact by this point. It was too late to go back home and pretend to be sick, and she would not make it to her destination on time. She was pretty much screwed.
When she entered the control room, however, no one seemed to notice her. They were all drinking coffee and eating doughnuts, which struck her as odd, because she had never seen such a thing on a work day. Was it a party? Well, today was a holiday, but certainly not one that required celebration.
Claire crept over to Vivian, whose cheeks were filled with the flavorless mush of a plain bagel. She swallowed in panic when she saw her boss coming.
"We're not slacking off. I finished everything I needed to this morning, and it's just a five minute break."
Claire narrowed her eyes.
"At the risk of discovering that I'm living in an episode of the Twilight Zone, I'll ask you what the hell happened while I was away."
"The raptor trainer brought doughnuts and coffee for everyone. We let him in."
Before Claire could ask one of many questions that had sprung to her mind, Owen Grady slipped between them and held up a brown bag and paper cup.
"I brought one for you too, Claire. The coffee is a low fat French Vanilla. There's a croissant in the bag."
He placed the items in her hands, which she had been holding out in surprise. Her mouth hung open.
". . . Why . . ."
He shrugged.
"You never know which day will be your last."
He smiled and patted her arm before walking away, then looked over his shoulder.
"Don't worry. They're going to give you a raise this afternoon."
As he exited the room, he made a dive to catch a pile of papers that Zara had almost dropped, and he was so fast that it almost seemed like he had reacted before she stumbled. He smiled and gave her a crumpet and coffee, then disappeared behind the elevator doors. Claire stared at where he had been standing, then turned her eyes to the surveillance screens. She saw him direct a lost girl to her family in the Innovation Center and point out that the security guard's safety was off. When he was gone, Claire turned her eyes to the ground, then looked at the cup and bag in her hands. After a moment of reflection, she took a sip of her coffee, but sputtered when she realized that he had lied about the flavor. It was her favorite, not vanilla.
There was no way on Earth that he could have known what she really enjoyed, since she told everyone that she preferred French Vanilla, and as far as she could remember, she had never admitted that she was fond of a less sophisticated drink. When she peeked into the bag and saw a sprinkled doughnut, she squeaked and did a fast-walk to her office, where she sat down and stared ahead with panic in her eyes. Hands shaking, she set the pastry in front of her and whimpered.
"What the hell was THAT?!"
