Venice Fic: Quiet Morning
Since we know basically nothing beyond the keywords "family" and "relationships", along with a vague hint at plot here and there, I had a little plot bunny sneak up on me. My mind likes to figure out puzzles, so I started to try to fill in some of the holes for myself, partially to see if they'd match up in the long run. I tried to stay far away from writing Gina/Ani, beyond a mere hint at the dynamic, simply because I wanna see that for myself. Besides, anything I write right now would most likely unduly influenced by Otalia. So I picked Owen and Michele, I don't even know if they have scenes together but plot bunnies don't listen to reason. I modeled their relationship after the slight flirty banter of Penelope Garcia/Derek Morgan on Criminal Minds. It's not a perfect replica, but I had to make it my own.
I'm an only child. I'm letting you know this because if I get enough feedback, that might encourage me to do more little ficlets until we get the real thing. Just saying.
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It was yet another warm weekday morning. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, the streets were slowly beginning to fill with people and Owen needed a cup of coffee. And as it was just like any other sunny weekday morning, he found himself on his sister's doorstep. He knocked once, waited but the pretense didn't last long and let himself in.
"Sweetcheeks, I don't see why you bother knocking. No one ever walks to the door to let you in anymore." Called a voice as he soundly swung the door shut behind himself.
"Oh, but where's the fun in that?" He bantered back, making his way up the half-set of stairs that separated Gina's office from the rest of her loft apartment. He flashed his thousand-watt grin at Michele, Gina's assistant, before making a bee-line for the little kitchenette at the back of the office. He zeroed in on his target, reveling in the fact the mug he'd claimed as his own months ago was already waiting for him next to the coffee maker.
"You mind?" He questioned, already mid-pour since he knew the answer.
"Do I ever?" Michele answered back with a smile. "Your sister, however, is another matter."
"You never mind, of course it never hurts to ask." He settled in to the armchair on the opposite side of the desk where Michele was seated. "She is a completely different ball of wax, though. Always has been, always will be."
"Oh, I almost forgot." He sat up partially, leaning over the desk momentarily to give her a quick peck on the cheek in greeting. "Good morning, Michele." She glanced at him quickly, but even that felt like a visual grope. He sat back down, smirking into his cup, pleased with himself already and gently blew onto its contents.
"Hiya, Buttercup." She responded and as soon he could manage to ratchet down his grin, he met her gaze.
"She around?" Usually by now his sister would've emerged and good-naturedly hassled him about stealing all her coffee and distracting Michele, but this morning she was noticeably absent.
"Nope. Gone before I got here. Left a note said she'd be back at 9:30; had to sort a few last minute things out herself." He watched her over the rim of his cup, but her response caused one of his brows to furrow.
"So, what's on the docket for today?" Michele raised her own eyebrow in his brisk topic change, but seemed to think better of it and looked down at the handheld planner next to her keyboard.
"A couple of quickie meetings with prospective clients this morning, working lunch, and then last minute prep for the shoot all afternoon." She glanced up only to catch him staring into his coffee, as though it could make his sister appear at will.
"Your father is also coming into town later this week, incase she hasn't mentioned it yet." She continued, and he shook his head in confirmation. "Not surprising, she's already marked down the day for the occasion." Owen looked up in time to see her hold the day planer and tap the date in question.
"Oooh, pretty flames!" He marveled in mock-childlike amazement.
"Yep. I believe she might've used the almighty red glitter pen for that one."
"No unresolved issues there, whatsoever." Owen slid back into his chair, and plopped his heels up on the corner of the desk. They sat in a comfortable silence for awhile, Owen quietly contemplating his cooling coffee, content to let Michele finish up whatever work she had yet to do this morning.
"Has she mentioned 'You Know Who' at all?" He took his first sip, quite pleased with himself, yet again, on his timing to find the exact right temperature. Michele shook her head once, a gesture he caught only out of the corner of his eye, clicked away a few windows on the screen, then turned to face him.
"Nosireebob, at least not in name. And beyond that, nothing but referring to her as 'the photographer'. Call 'the photographer' and make sure we've got everything reserved. Double check with 'the photographer' that the location is still a go. 'The photographer' this, 'the photographer' that. I don't think she's talked to Ani once directly since she heard she'd been assigned this photoshoot. Talk about your unresolved issues." It was only then did they hear the tell-tale click of heels on the stairs. Owen only had a second to shoot Michele a wide-eyed apprehensive face before Gina crested the top of the stairs and closed in on the two of them.
"With friends and family like this, I ask you, who needs enemies?"