Chapter 5

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As the unfortunate Mister Drake was busily and plaintively pondering exactly why Fate was picking on him, this sentiment was echoed by a certain young woman in the lunch room.

Along with that eternal cry of despair and desolation, Wendy was also wondering just how long she could continue pasting on this fake smile before her face started to crack.

Still, if she started being outright mean to Joe, he might suspect all the nasty things she had already planned to do to him.

That, and Joker might get angry.

That would be bad.

And so, there she sat at the table in the lunch room, periodically smiling and nodding politely in response to the excruciatingly cheerful stream of chatter spilling forth from the nondescript, sandy-haired young man who was currently trying to figure out all the subtle ways that coffee differed from tea in its proper methods of construction.

Joe, meanwhile, was feeling quite as though he had died and gone to heaven.

There was a beautiful girl, and blonde on top of that, who apparently shared his love of the hot beverage, hanging on his every word! That smile she was giving him was unmistakeable: she was feelin' it, too!

Never one to waste a moment once an opportunity had come his way – unless, of course, he had failed to notice the approaching opportunity, or was busy making or drinking coffee at the time, or was in the bathroom, or asleep, or something – Joe picked up a steaming mug of tea in each hand and swept over to the table.

Smiling one more overly-polite smile that would, of course, be utterly misinterpreted, Wendy picked up the cup of tea he set down in front of her, and sipped carefully with very much the air of someone drinking lemon juice for no other reason than the sake of not insulting their host.

Pushing his cup to the side of the table, Joe took Wendy's very startled free hand in his.

"How do you like it?" he asked tenderly. "The tea, I mean."

"It-it's good. Very nice tea," she replied uncomfortably, dually wondering if this sort of person could be dangerous and if she could fight her way out if he should prove so, and reflecting vehemently that there was no way she was telling this possibly dangerous idiot that his tea was perfection in a mug.

"Wendy," he began resolutely, tugging her hand closer and eliciting a small shriek as she found herself hauled halfway across the table. "Would you like to meet me for dinner some night soon?"

She made an incoherent noise of surprise, disbelief, and outright anger. Who did this…this…THING think he was?! As though it weren't enough that he should alienate the affections of her…ahem…boss, then he had to try for the affections of her…well, of her her!

I need some better dramatic inner monologue, she decided sadly.

Then, turning her attention to Joe, who had been watching her with clasped hands and wide, hopeful eyes, she glared at him frostily and prepared to tell him exactly what he could do with his dinner-date invitation.

Now, if these peoples' lives were anything like those of normal folks, it is likely that Wendy would have done just that, and Joe would have been inconsolable for ten seconds until he remembered that there was a cup of tea at his elbow, waiting to be enjoyed.

This part of everyone's lives would have remained peaceful, instead of providing irritating and silly backdrop for the main events.

It is a lucky thing that these peoples' lives are not like those of normal people, is it not?

Just as Wendy had formulated a properly chilling (but still polite) reply to Joe's burning question, Joker happened past the lunch room on his way to the only natural place for a person to rush to after eight strong cups of coffee in a day, let alone the hour that it had taken him to finish them.

As the blond man peeked into the lunch room and smiled fondly at the two, Wendy was struck with a diabolical inspiration.

"Of course, Joe," she said loudly for the benefit of the eavesdropper, shooting the man sitting across from her a charming smile before she could talk herself out of it. "Shall we meet this Friday if you're still in town then?"

She inwardly cackled in delight as Joker, who had passed the doorway, back-pedalled at this, peeking back into the room, and seeming quite interested in Joe's answer, if interest were measured in the narrowing of eyes.

"It's a date!" Joe agreed jubilantly, eyes sparkly. Then he leapt from the table. "I have to go get ready!"

"Joe, Friday is three days…away," Wendy finished as Joe bolted from the room. "Oh, well."

Then, pretending to notice the slightly annoyed man in the doorway for the first time, she rose from the table.

"Oh, hello, Mr. Joker," she greeted with an innocent smile.

"Hello, Wendy," he returned with slightly strained cheerfulness. "Having a date on Friday, are you?"

She nodded.

His mouth tightened ever so slightly.

"Yes, well, that's very nice."

"I thought so," she said brightly. "He's a nice boy."

Joker chuckled, seeming to relax slightly.

"Boy? Wendy, he's at least three years older than you."

She stared.

"Really?"

He nodded with a slightly wry smile.

"He just isn't terribly mature, I'm afraid."

"I think his air of boyish innocence is refreshing," she said airily, folding her arms.

"If you like baby-sitting, perhaps," Joker grumbled before recalling that, although women could be very aggravating indeed, he was still British, and exceedingly so, and thus under necessity of being polite.

"That isn't very nice!" Wendy protested.

Neither is pretending to be someone's friend and showing them how to make the perfect coffee, and then turning on them like this, he refrained from saying out loud, instead choosing to chuckle and say,

"No, I suppose it isn't. I'll apologize to Joe when I see him next. Now, if you're feeling better, I believe there is something for you to be doing. So, run along."

"Of course, sir," she sighed, reflecting a wee bit mournfully that men were exceedingly difficult to deal with just as soon as a girl tried to level the playing-field a little and scare a reaction from them.

Joker watched her go, waiting carefully until she was out of earshot. Then he turned and glared with such ferocity at the two mugs, still half-full, sitting on the table, that they nearly shattered. Luckily, though, Joker had no latent psychic powers, and was thus spared the task of cleaning up the kind of mess that this would have caused.

Nevertheless, although he was not psychic, he was fully able to turn a little psycho when the situation required it. Thus, he clenched one fist tightly in a manner that would have provoked either terror or deep amusement in any normal person who beheld it.

"It seems that you have some very important lessons to learn about staying away from other men's…er…assistants, Joe. Unfortunately, I am not a very patient teacher, and if I find out that you have so much as touched her, the lesson will be that much more painful."

He struck a menacing pose for about four seconds, lightning and thunder filling the air above him due to the odd problems the building had been having with their lighting and ventilation systems as of late.

Then a pained expression crossed his face as he recalled suddenly what he had left his office for in the first place, and he darted from the room and in the direction of the nearest restroom.

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"Where the hell is Joker?" Drake grumbled, arms crossed, leaning against a wall.

"In the little boys' room," Nancy replied dryly. "What did you expect, after all that damn coffee?"

Drake pushed off the wall and glared at her.

"Yeah, well—"

He stopped abruptly as a pained look crossed his face, sweat beading on his forehead.

"I'll be back, alright? If Joker gets back, tell him I had to go to the bank or something. I don't want him knowing I can't hold my coffee," he concluded with a wry smirk before bolting frantically from the room.

Nancy sighed, and then looked over at the only other person still in Joker's office. Making a quick decision, she leaned over in her chair and snatched the tome of wisdom from Yomiko, making sure to keep the page marked with one finger.

"Hey! What – oh, hi, Nancy. Are we starting?" Yomiko asked, eyes wide and earnest.

"No," Nancy replied flatly. "Joe's still off somewhere, sealing his own fate by trying to teach that secretary girl the art of making good tea, and Drake and Joker are both learning some hard lessons about the side-effects of too much coffee."

Yomiko nodded slowly, digesting all this.

"Oh, I see."

Then, after another long pause…

"So…can I have my book back?"

"Later," Nancy said firmly. "If we're the only ones here, I'm not sitting here and watching you read."

"Well…what do we do instead?" Yomiko asked hesitantly.

"Oh, I don't know," Nancy replied with a sardonic smile. "Talk?"

"Hmm…yeah, I guess we could do that. So, Nancy, if Joe is the official I-Jin coffee guy—"

"Was," Nancy interjected.

"Right. If Joe was the official I-Jin coffee guy, does that mean you knew him pretty well?"

"I drank coffee every now and then," Nancy shrugged. "That's really the only time I talked to him. Although, he did ask me out every now and again, even though he told me it couldn't ever go anywhere because I wasn't 'blonde' enough for him. Really knew how to sweet-talk a girl..."

Yomiko nodded thoughtfully, feeling that this last bit answered her next question quite satisfactorily.

"So…was he always like this?"

"Like what? You mean, an idiot?"

"Well...more like a not-so-smart person," Yomiko replied.

Nancy thought about this carefully.

"Yeah, he really was. Except, I think he's gotten a little better. I remember him clearly being very, very good at coffee and everything to do with it. Unfortunately, very little in the average day actually has to do with coffee, and Joe was a bit of a disaster with everything else." She shuddered. "I still remember the time someone uttered the fatal words, 'could you finish mopping in here, Joe?'"

"Uh-oh," Yomiko said sadly.

"Yeah," Nancy agreed emphatically. "They may have gotten all the windows fixed by now, but I doubt it. And I'm sure that poor yak hasn't found its way home yet."

"Yak?" the bespectacled girl repeated, bewildered.

Nancy put a hand out to stop her.

"Don't think about it, Yomiko. If you try to make it make sense, you'll only make yourself dizzy."

"Okay," Yomiko agreed. Then, casting the other woman a few shy, sideways glances, she continued. "Um, Nancy?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that question you keep avoiding?"

Nancy's expression grew nervous, and she fidgeted slightly in her chair.

"Uh, what question is that?"

"How did you get out of that rocket?"

The taller girl's expression went from nervous to full-blown panic.

"Uh…um…uh…hey, look over there!"

As Yomiko looked, thus proving that her short-term memory was very, very short indeed, Nancy leapt silently from her chair and bolted from the room, nearly crashing headlong into Joe, who was in the process of waltzing dreamily through the door.

"Wow…where's she going in such a hurry?" the young man asked absently.

Yomiko simply stared out the window, crestfallen, as a midnight-blue convertible sped down the street, car alarm jangling frantically.

"Nancy just ran away again," she sighed. "And she still had my book!"

"I don't really see the problem," Joe admitted, eyeing the shelves upon shelves of books lining the room.

He smiled a dreamy smile as his gaze lit on one somewhat disorganized bookshelf, filled with rather battered books, the site of his first real interaction with 'his girl', as Wendy would undoubtedly have violently resented being called. Oh, she was cute when she was flustered! Hair all mussed and dishevelled…just imagine away the clothes…eheh…best to save thoughts like that for a little later. Like after the second date.

With this final decision firmly in his mind, Joe turned to find the puzzled gazes of Yomiko, a newly returned Nancy, and Drake fixed upon him.

"Um, Mr. Joe? Are you okay? You look like you're feverish or something," Yomiko pointed out.

"And drooling heavily," Drake added.

"Yeah," Nancy agreed, shooting Yomiko a slightly mischievous smile. "I don't see too many people react that way to a good book."

"Nancy!" Yomiko protested.

"Actually, I gots a date with an angel Friday night!" Joe announced proudly.

"Oh!" Yomiko said, blinking. "I guess Wendy will be happy."

"Not asking," Drake muttered, pointedly ignoring the conversation.

Joe grinned, blushing a little.

"Aw, did she tell you she liked me? What a sweet, demure little thing! Too shy to ask me out first…"

Nancy raised one eyebrow slightly.

"Uh, what?"

"Not asking," Drake muttered again, ignoring the conversation with slightly weakening determination.

"Yeah! While we were drinking tea together, something just went 'click', and I had to ask her out!"

"And…she accepted," Nancy surmised flatly.

"Not asking," Drake nearly whimpered with the effort it was by this point to ignore the conversation. After all, Drake enjoyed gossip as much as the next gruff, crusty pottery-makin' bad-ass.

Joe nodded enthusiastically.

"Sure did!"

"I've gotta ask one thing," Drake said slowly, utterly giving up on ignoring what stood to become nearly interesting. "Does this mean that keeping this idiot safe from Joker is part of our mission now?"

"I guess we'll have to ask Mr. Joker when he gets back," Yomiko said seriously.

Drake, Nancy, and Joe were all silent for a moment.

Finally…

"No, forget it. It's not worth the trouble," Drake said flatly.

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End Notes: Hello! Well, this is a long-overdue update. [Rubs back of head sheepishly] Still, I don't forsee the next chapter taking so long to get churned out. I'm kind of in the middle of a Read or Die re-obsession right now. :o)

Anyway, thanks to anyone who's still reading! [Waves cheerfully, then scampers away after a bunny]