Five Dollar Mocha: 7
Sydney worries that she might not see him today. Their adventures of the previous night hadn't been the romantic ones she had wanted—she had fallen asleep on his shoulder halfway through the movie. It hadn't mattered, though; they had gotten in free (the ticket seller was being kind and had told them to "go right ahead").
Every worry flies off her shoulders as his familiar smile greets her through the window that is the front door. He stands there a few seconds, teasing her, until she feels like jumping over the counter and pulling him through the door herself. That was when he lets himself in.
He makes his way to her quickly. In the frenzy that is "the morning after," she doesn't have his mocha ready. She doubts that is what he wants as he stands before her, smiling that smile she now knows is hers.
"Hi, Sydney," he says, leaning in for a kiss. She stands straight and presses her lips against his, eventually taking his face in her hands and wishing there wasn't so much between them.
"Ahem?"
The break apart, embarassed, and fleetingly glare at the person who interrupted them. Sydney hopes it isn't her boss.
"Francie!" Sydney is almost overjoyed, but then she remembers who she was just kissing and is overjoyed. The giddyness must show plainly because Francie speaks quickly.
"Oh, this is so cute! I was waiting for you two to get together; it took you guys SO long..." She says some more things, but Sydney is more focused on the awkward look on Michael's face. She shuts her eyes, hoping he isn't thinking what she thinks he's thinking. In case he is, she stops Francie's ramble.
"Michael, this is Francie. Francie, Michael."
"It's nice to finally meet you, Michael. I've seen you here before."
"Oh?" Clearly, he has never noticed her, but Sydney assumes that is because of the mountains of paper he usually carries with him when he comes in.
"Yeah." She says no more, and Sydney feels obligated to add to the 'conversation.'
"Would you like anything, Francie? Iced coffee, cookie, anything..."
Somehow, Francie gets the point Sydney doesn't realize she is sending, and she winks. "Iced coffee. I've got to go back and write a Psych paper."
Sydney makes the drink as quickly as she can, noticing the obvious disconnection there is between Michael and Francie. "Here you go." Francie hands her exact change, as she has for some time now, and scurries out of the building. Once she is outside, Sydney sighs and speaks. "I'm sorry about that." It had been awkward for her, but more so for him.
"Don't be." He grins.
"Okay." She smiles at him, knowing she can't fight that gorgeous smile or the powers those green eyes held over her. "Why are you here?"
"Just wanted to know if you wanted to get together Saturday. I've got a hockey game."
"You've got a hockey game? You play hockey?" Never in her wildest fantasies (and there had been some pretty wild ones) had she even thought about the possibility that the most perfect man in the world could be so sexy and play hockey, too. Then again, hockey isn't a great turn-on, but it was slowly becoming one.
"Have played for years. You game?"
She smiles at the pun he seems not to have noticed and nods. "Yes. Let's do it."
"Yeah?" He has a certain boyish aura today as he speaks, she notices.
"Yeah."
His grin becomes wider, if possible. "Okay. I'll pick you up from your apartment, six-ish."
Was this guy CIA? Or did he just have ESP? Oh, yeah. She forgot that he knew where she lived ever since he dropped her off at three in the morning, granting her four and a half hours of beatiful dreams before waking for her first class of the day.
"Sure," she manages, shunning the memories of the dreams.
He steals one last kiss before turning and leaving, but neither notices that he leaves without a mocha.
Sydney worries that she might not see him today. Their adventures of the previous night hadn't been the romantic ones she had wanted—she had fallen asleep on his shoulder halfway through the movie. It hadn't mattered, though; they had gotten in free (the ticket seller was being kind and had told them to "go right ahead").
Every worry flies off her shoulders as his familiar smile greets her through the window that is the front door. He stands there a few seconds, teasing her, until she feels like jumping over the counter and pulling him through the door herself. That was when he lets himself in.
He makes his way to her quickly. In the frenzy that is "the morning after," she doesn't have his mocha ready. She doubts that is what he wants as he stands before her, smiling that smile she now knows is hers.
"Hi, Sydney," he says, leaning in for a kiss. She stands straight and presses her lips against his, eventually taking his face in her hands and wishing there wasn't so much between them.
"Ahem?"
The break apart, embarassed, and fleetingly glare at the person who interrupted them. Sydney hopes it isn't her boss.
"Francie!" Sydney is almost overjoyed, but then she remembers who she was just kissing and is overjoyed. The giddyness must show plainly because Francie speaks quickly.
"Oh, this is so cute! I was waiting for you two to get together; it took you guys SO long..." She says some more things, but Sydney is more focused on the awkward look on Michael's face. She shuts her eyes, hoping he isn't thinking what she thinks he's thinking. In case he is, she stops Francie's ramble.
"Michael, this is Francie. Francie, Michael."
"It's nice to finally meet you, Michael. I've seen you here before."
"Oh?" Clearly, he has never noticed her, but Sydney assumes that is because of the mountains of paper he usually carries with him when he comes in.
"Yeah." She says no more, and Sydney feels obligated to add to the 'conversation.'
"Would you like anything, Francie? Iced coffee, cookie, anything..."
Somehow, Francie gets the point Sydney doesn't realize she is sending, and she winks. "Iced coffee. I've got to go back and write a Psych paper."
Sydney makes the drink as quickly as she can, noticing the obvious disconnection there is between Michael and Francie. "Here you go." Francie hands her exact change, as she has for some time now, and scurries out of the building. Once she is outside, Sydney sighs and speaks. "I'm sorry about that." It had been awkward for her, but more so for him.
"Don't be." He grins.
"Okay." She smiles at him, knowing she can't fight that gorgeous smile or the powers those green eyes held over her. "Why are you here?"
"Just wanted to know if you wanted to get together Saturday. I've got a hockey game."
"You've got a hockey game? You play hockey?" Never in her wildest fantasies (and there had been some pretty wild ones) had she even thought about the possibility that the most perfect man in the world could be so sexy and play hockey, too. Then again, hockey isn't a great turn-on, but it was slowly becoming one.
"Have played for years. You game?"
She smiles at the pun he seems not to have noticed and nods. "Yes. Let's do it."
"Yeah?" He has a certain boyish aura today as he speaks, she notices.
"Yeah."
His grin becomes wider, if possible. "Okay. I'll pick you up from your apartment, six-ish."
Was this guy CIA? Or did he just have ESP? Oh, yeah. She forgot that he knew where she lived ever since he dropped her off at three in the morning, granting her four and a half hours of beatiful dreams before waking for her first class of the day.
"Sure," she manages, shunning the memories of the dreams.
He steals one last kiss before turning and leaving, but neither notices that he leaves without a mocha.
