Taking off his coat and throwing it over a dining table chair, John loosened his tie as he expected the usual sales calls in his answer phone messages.
"You have –three- new message. Message one, received at 12:04p.m., *beep.*"
"JOHNATHAN ISAIAH CONSTANTINE!" He flinched at the anger in Angela's tone and mention of that middle name, "how DARE YOU sneakily, treacherously HIDE from ME, in a public place!" She became husky when she ranted like this, there was a part of him that liked it. "Did you seriously think-" *beep* Message two, received at 12:05p.m., *beep* "Did you seriously think I couldn't look you up on the system and find your number! Ooh, were you wrong, Mister! Not only have you left no word since that little parting on the rooftop, but now you've sunk so low as to crawl like a rat, to avoid me? You have no RIGHT to avoid ME!" *beep* Message three, received at 12:19p.m., *beep* "Look, John, I'm sorry, I just... why would you do that to me? Why?" she seemed calmer, "You're one of the few people that know what happened and that I'm not crazy which believe me, I find hard to believe at times. You have to explain this ...transition, John. Please, call me back. I need a drink and a friendly face." *beep* "End of messages. You have –no- new messages."
He stared at the machine incredulously as though it were about to act on her anger, jump up and bite him. Fuck it, might as well admit I've been caught.
He wandered over to a drawer by his bedside and took out her business card, turned it over in his fingers, considering, and then begrudgingly slowly, dialled the number. Time to face the music eventually.
"Dodson." Professional, she must be at work.
"...Hey."
"OH! Hey! Er, about the messages..."
"Don't worry about it, I've done worse myself." He really wasn't kidding.
She laughed, it made him smile just a little. He'd missed that laugh, that humour.
"So, how 'bout it? Wanna go for drinks later?"
"Detective Dodson? Are you asking me, John Constantine, enemy of the LAPD, out for a drink?" He hoped she could hear the sarcasm, he was trying to inject some normality into the conversation. Too much of the serious talk made him nervous.
"Erm, well, ah, no" his face fell, he was glad she couldn't see, "I mean, er, it would be nice to see you again but I couldn't ask you out, it, it just wouldn't be erm, professional..." she trailed off from her uncertain words, hanging on for his reply.
"Humph, whatever." He shrugged, although she couldn't see, "When and where?"
"9 tonight at Midnite's?" her voice raised, she was nervous.
"Sure. See you then." He put the phone down on her. It was for her own good. She was at work anyway, they couldn't discuss anything big. Pervert, get that mental picture out, I meant big as in... supernatural, apocalypse action. Maybe action was a poor choice of words, too. God, I need to get laid.
