Tony had given up on sleeping in the compound, staying back at NCIS most nights. He didn't want to give McDoofus any reason to get all sanctimonious or 'I told you so' on his ass, so he'd also taken to getting up pretty early in the day and going for a run. It made him hungry, and it made him want coffee something desperate, not even bothering to shower before he wandered into the kitchen. "Hey," one side of his mouth pulled up in a smile at the girl, flicking on Nancy's espresso machine, "I'm making real coffee if you want some."
"Yeah, sure," Max said, before she turned and realized that she was talking to that guy who looked like Logan. As much as she knew that people on the island looked like other people (like that one guy who had the nerve to walk around wearing her brother's face), it was still really freaky.
And it probably didn't help that everyone who turned up that looked like someone from back home felt the urge to hit on her.
Sorry, nuh uh. Her panties were not for sale to cheap knock-offs.
Still, Max had been thinking about coffee anyway. No harm in getting someone else to make it for her.
It wasn't hitting on her as much as it was being himself. Joking was Tony's default setting, and if the person he was joking with was an attractive woman, well, no harm in that, was there?
"I'm starting to get good with this thing," he talked as he worked, grabbing the coffee that guy with all the suits had prepped. Nice suits too. Tony needed to ask him where he got them. "At least, I'm not burning myself anymore."
"Always a plus," Max said, with raised eyebrows and a small nod. "Kinda hard to dole out the java when your hands are all blistered, swollen and gross."
She took at seat at the counter, and leaned forward.
"Me, I just deal with the regular stuff unless someone else decides to wrangle with that thing."
"That's what they all say," Max said. People saying crap like that always reminded her that no one else on the island had lived through the Pulse. That'd pretty much been the day when the machines had gotten the best of everybody.
The coffee was easy enough, it was steaming the milk that always caught him. He went about it carefully this time, the added pressure of being watched making it seem like more of a challenge.
In his mind at least.
He ended up with two pretty good looking coffees, and only the lightest of burns on his thumb. "Machine zero, man one. Here you go."
"Thanks," Max said, glancing down at Tony's thumb and deciding not to mention that she'd seen when he'd burned himself. "So I take it you didn't make coffee for a living back home?"
He snorted with amusement, sipping at the coffee which he'd made that little bit to hot. "No. Definitely not. Investigator, I worked for a federal agency." It was easier than saying NCIS and having to explain over and over again. "You?"
"I was thinking more the traffic. Almost got taken out by a couple of those guys on bikes." Maybe she hadn't worked in a big city. It would explain it.
"I'm a man of hidden talents." Tony grinned, "I cook too."
"Then you'd probably be one of about three men on the island who do," Max said, only half joking. All those mornings with Tim trying to put out cereal had kind of lowered her expectations of the male island population when it came to cooking.
Not that Max was the world's best cook herself, but that was beside the point.
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And it probably didn't help that everyone who turned up that looked like someone from back home felt the urge to hit on her.
Sorry, nuh uh. Her panties were not for sale to cheap knock-offs.
Still, Max had been thinking about coffee anyway. No harm in getting someone else to make it for her.
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"I'm starting to get good with this thing," he talked as he worked, grabbing the coffee that guy with all the suits had prepped. Nice suits too. Tony needed to ask him where he got them. "At least, I'm not burning myself anymore."
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She took at seat at the counter, and leaned forward.
"Me, I just deal with the regular stuff unless someone else decides to wrangle with that thing."
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In a weird, kinda roundabout way.
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In his mind at least.
He ended up with two pretty good looking coffees, and only the lightest of burns on his thumb. "Machine zero, man one. Here you go."
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Along with the occassional stealing and fencing said stolen items.
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She took at sip of coffee and raised her eyebrows at the taste. "Hmm. Not bad."
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"I'm a man of hidden talents." Tony grinned, "I cook too."
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Not that Max was the world's best cook herself, but that was beside the point.
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Except all of her stuff had more to do with formations and how to take out an armed soldier in three seconds than cooking or baking.
"And here, I thought I was over estimating the number," She replied, though she still wasn't completely convinced.
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