Prompt 25 - Acid Reflux/ Heartburn
The office was darkened. The janitor had walked through and emptied the trash cans and the floors had been vacuumed. After the white collar crimes unit of the massive FBI building had been cleaned the janitors moved on to the next block of offices and desks. Satisfied with their work, the two janitors signaled a faint annoyance to each other at the one conference room that was in use.
They would not be able to clean it up tonight. Tomorrow they would get it cleaned and how it belonged. Curiosity was not a very helpful trait for a janitor working in the FBI building, but patterns were something the cleaning staff knew well. Tonight the conference room was in use.
It happened often enough that a team would work through the night. Usually there was a sense of desperation, focus, even panic. The room would be quiet or if it was loud there would be a sense of tension. Tonight though, the pattern was different. Tonight, there was laughter and happy conversation that only happens between friends.
As the doors of the elevator closed, cutting the janitors off from that space. There was one last bout of laughter that floated in right as the doors finished sliding shut. The two people working in the late night hours smiled at each other just a bit. As the shiny elevator doors slid back open, one couldn't help but be curious and thought to himself, " I wonder what made them laugh."
This thought flitted by and both janitors returned to their work, dismissing the experience and tackled the next part of the job.
The reason for the laughter, that was so out of the normal pattern of things, was simple.
Diana and Neal had gotten into a high spirited argument at the end of a very successful work day. It had started with a discussion on chicken wings. Diane and Jones were discussing a favorite local pub that served excellent wings. When Neal, with his charm dialed to the max, tried to offer an opposing opinion. Neal claimed a bar in a different part of town, had superior wings without a doubt.
Taken aback, Jones stared for a second. Diana was faster to respond with a flat denial.
"Uh uh, no way. First, the wings can't be better, Johnny's are the best. Second, there is no way your fancy palate can handle hot wings." Diana pronounced definitively, crossing her arms and her stance challenged him to defy her.
"I beg to differ," Neal said, with a mischievous sparkle in his eye.
"You actually like wings?" Jones sputtered, dumb struck.
"Nope, real wings are spicy for people with your airs," Diana asserted again, a grin spreading across her face as she half teased Neal.
Neal grinned his most devilish grin, and answered both at the same time, " I challenge you to beat me at eating chicken wings if you doubt my claims,"
Diana loved a good challenge and her competitive side came to the forefront. "Deal." Confident in her ability to win she took on an almost predatory look, "I will eat you under the table till you cry," she said smugly.
"Hey, you guys this may not be a good idea," Jones suggested, trying to bring some common sense to the table.
They both glanced at him, synchronized, as amazed as if he suggested something foolish like tap dancing on the table.
"Why wouldn't this be a good idea?" Diana demanded, turning her intensity full force on Jones.
Neal snickered, quietly behind his hat, before smoothly saying, "Maybe you're not up to a battle of the spices? With all the innocence Neal could plaster on his face, he said, "We don't mind if you're not able to handle the heat."
Frowning at Neal, Jones shook his head despairingly, he knew he couldn't back down now. "If this goes south it is your fault, the both of you." Joes warned, reaching for his phone.
High fiving with Caffery as Jones gave in, Diana raised an important question, "So, what wings do we order? Jones and I already know the best ones, but will you eat them?" She cocked an eyebrow at Neal, waiting to see if he would agree.
"Ah, that is where I have the better plan," Neal said, grinning like a schoolboy now. "We are going to order wings from every place we can think of and try them side by side. A scouting for the honest to goodness best wings."
The audacity of the plan filled all three participants with enthusiasm. As everyone went home, quite a few phone calls were made. Delivery times were coordinated and by seven o'clock, the conference room had been appropriated for this all important task.
Peter grinned at his team as he left the office. He had overheard their plans and wished them well, but even the best wings weren't going to keep him from going home to El.
So, with much laughter, beer, and many many many different varieties of chicken wings. Diana, Jones, and Neal ate until they were stuffed. Many dirty napkins later, sauce seriously gets everywhere when eating wings. Each had found a new favorite, oddly all from the same restaurant, "Wings for Days" place that sold every flavoring that could be paired with chicken and some that maybe should not have.
After their evening of fun, they all parted ways and went home for the night. On the way home, they each recalled Jones' warning.
Jones stopped by the drugstore to get antacids on the way home. The burning sensation started soon after he had left the FBI building. Neal didn't feel much until he finally laid down to sleep, then his esophagus felt like churning stomach acid was trying to crawl back out. Diana, well, Diana had no problems at all aside from a bit of indigestion caused by overeating in general.
Next morning, Peter got to work and was amused to see a tired Neal, circles under his eyes, clearly he didn't sleep well. Diana was poking fun at the CI, bright and cheery as she could be.
Laughing to himself under his breath. Peter sat in his office. He knew this was how it would be. He and Diana had had wings more then once, and she always, always, wins.