Why Mr. Flagg kept coming in was a mystery. He liked no one and no one liked him. Still he would show up about once a week to order a coffee which he would drink while sitting on the tall stools by the window glancing suspiciously at every being in his vicinity. Then he would leave quietly without throwing his empty cup in the trashcan. Every time was the same.

It had been two days since Flagg last visited them. He had called Potter today complaining about a slightly awkward problem caused by nothing else than the coffee he had been served at 4077 Coffee Beans, which might indeed have contained a certain amount of laxatives that Hawkeye had consciously put in. In all fairness, though, he was meaning to give it to Frank, who had asked for one to drink on his way home on his last day.

"How screwed are you on a scale of one to ten?"

BJ's voice snapped Hawkeye out of his thoughts. He was leaning over the bar counter, his torso supported on his elbows, and Hawkeye had just walked in from Potter's back office. No customers were in. Hawkeye grinned.

"My irresistible natural charm has once again saved the day." He grabbed a cup and started pouring in some plain black coffee.

"I'm glad", said BJ. His eyes lingered on the cup in Hawkeye's hand. "You know, if there's such a thing as caffeine poisoning, you're gonna get it."

Hawkeye raised his eyebrows.

"Coffee loves me, Beej. It would never hurt me."

"You practically live on it", said BJ. "I'm pretty sure that's the sole reason your hair is black."

"I wouldn't question other people's life choices if I were you, hipster moustache", said Hawkeye smugly.

"I've told you, it's not hipster. It's 80's."

"80's hipster."

"I give up."

Snickering, Hawkeye took a sip of his coffee.

"Ah. Ambrosia." Something suddenly poked him in the back. He startled, almost spilling coffee all over his green shirt. "Hey!" He turned around only to see that it was Margaret, one eyebrow cocked and her lips a thin line.

"Is this your break, Pierce?"

Hawkeye set his cup down on the counter.

"Apparently it is", he said. "I don't see any customers at the moment."

"Well, you better be ready when one shows up. I don't want to see you sagging just because you feel sorry for yourself."

"I'm not- Margaret!"

But she was already walking away, further into the kitchen.

"Margaret!"

Not turning around, she gave him a dismissive wave.

"I'm not your manager for nothing, Pierce."

Hawkeye sighed. Leaning back against the counter, he took his coffee and brought it up to his lips.

"Attila the Hun", he mumbled over the top of the cup.

BJ laughed.