POI Fic: Coffee Morning
Title: Coffee Morning
Rating: G
Source: Person of Interest
Characters: Maxine Angelis, Zoe Morgan.
Summary: Guess who vanished for two months because she was swallowed up by a new fandom. Go on, gueeeeeeesssssssssssss. Can I sell anyone else on Person of Interest? The first three seasons are available on Netflix! Meanwhile, have a ficlet set halfway through S2.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and make nothing from this but my own entertainment.
Word Count: 1000
Maxine Angelis and Zoe Morgan finally catch up for coffee on Tuesday morning two weeks before Christmas. It’s raining and Maxine’s late, because she’s been chasing leads on a new story since Sunday night, but the café’s decked out in baubles and tinsel and there’s the lady of the hour tapping at her phone in an armchair by the window, wearing a flat, focused expression that tells Maxine she’s on the job. She doesn’t look like she walked here. Maxine shakes off her coat, feeling the water dripping down her neck, and Zoe’s phone vanishes with a smile and an easy greeting. They sit down together. Maxine orders espresso and the biggest slice of chocolate cake available. She’s been looking forward to this for weeks.
It’s not an interview. They talk about the weather, then the café, then a couple of politicians Maxine hadn’t been able to pin anything on up to now. She’s not dumb enough to think Zoe Morgan gives away freebies or gets loose-lipped about her clients, so if Zoe throws anyone to the wolves there must be some other business behind it, but dirt is dirt and Maxine doesn’t much care what Zoe’s up to as long as her tips pan out. Besides, maybe if Maxine digs deep enough she’ll find the misdirect. It always helps to have a place to start.
She tips up her cup and thinks about ordering another espresso. Beyond the bushy garlands and fairylights the clouds are clearing, though, and the mellow Christmas soundtrack has started to repeat itself already. Zoe says something about another appointment and Maxine nods and looks around for her purse. She’s got Zoe’s number. She can track Zoe down again.
“Oh, by the way,” she says, remembering. “I was going to ask, have you seen John lately? You know, John Anderson. I had a story I was hoping he could help with, but he seems to have changed his number. Do you know how I can get in touch?”
Zoe’s fishing for her phone, probably to call her driver; she stops, sits back, gives Maxine a flatly assessing look. “Our mutual friend John?” she says eventually. “He’s hard on phones. He probably dropped it somewhere. What sort of help did you need?”
“It’s an accounting scandal. Well, I hope it will be. It’s more exciting than it sounds. I could use an actuary. Have you got his new number?”
Zoe opens her mouth, then closes it again, then says, “Is that what he’s doing these days? I don’t think I do have his current number, sorry. But if I see him, I’ll let him know you were looking for him.” She hesitates, glancing at Maxine with a distinctly curious gleam. “I take it things didn’t work out? I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be,” Maxine says blithely. “He didn’t change his number to get away from me, if that’s what you thought. I broke it off. He’s sweet, but I really don’t have time for that right now.” Especially not for a man who’s still hung up on another woman, specifically one Zoe Morgan, not that Maxine’s going to say that to Zoe’s face. She’s wondering if Zoe might be just a bit hung up on John Anderson too.
“You are a busy woman,” Zoe says. “I’m sure John was sorry, though.”
“He took it very well. I couldn’t blame him if he was relieved, to be honest, after the whole Zambrano fiasco. He was very good about it, but you can’t tell me he wanted to be shot at and beaten up by HR thugs on a carousel. I doubt you have to deal with that sort of thing in actuary...ing... whatever it is actuaries actually do. He never told me how you two met, by the way. It wasn’t through Match-Heart.com, was it?”
“No,” Zoe says. “I do freelance work for his company occasionally. Sometimes we have clients in common. We met on a job involving a pharmaceutical company. It’s not a very interesting story.”
Maxine’s itching to ask all about Zoe’s clients, especially the ones Zoe has in common with John Anderson’s expensive actuarial firm, but Zoe’s given her as much as she’s going to today and Maxine has work of her own waiting back at the office, so she nods and lets it go. She’s already planning how to approach Zoe’s new leads. It’s a pity Maxine couldn’t have recorded this conversation, but Zoe’s not the sort of contact who takes kindly to being put on the record and Maxine’s pretty sure this is a relationship that’s going to work out well for both of them. She’s not going to burn it until she’s got as much out of Zoe as she can.
She starts to pull her damp coat back on. “By the way,” Zoe says, crossing her legs and leaning back in her armchair with an amused upwards glance, “I heard there was another big story you were after. How’s the hunt for the Man in the Suit going?”
Maxine has to laugh. “Please,” she says. “Who told you that? I dropped him weeks ago.”
“Did you? Why?”
“Urban legend,” Maxine says confidently. “After the Zambrano thing, I decided if the guy existed I’d have met him by now. I almost got killed and did I see a single superhero in a snappy suit? No offense to John, but a nice actuary with glasses and a dog from a dating website doesn’t really cut it. Though he did his best, bless him. And the third date was fun, though I never did find out what that car was compensating for.”
She remembers the car with regret. She liked the car. She liked the dog, too, and John’s place was the best advertisement for an actuarial career she’d ever seen, but really she doesn’t have the time. She pays the bill and heads for the door. The look on Zoe’s face follows her all the way back to the office.
THE END
Rating: G
Source: Person of Interest
Characters: Maxine Angelis, Zoe Morgan.
Summary: Guess who vanished for two months because she was swallowed up by a new fandom. Go on, gueeeeeeesssssssssssss. Can I sell anyone else on Person of Interest? The first three seasons are available on Netflix! Meanwhile, have a ficlet set halfway through S2.
Disclaimer: I own nothing and make nothing from this but my own entertainment.
Word Count: 1000
Maxine Angelis and Zoe Morgan finally catch up for coffee on Tuesday morning two weeks before Christmas. It’s raining and Maxine’s late, because she’s been chasing leads on a new story since Sunday night, but the café’s decked out in baubles and tinsel and there’s the lady of the hour tapping at her phone in an armchair by the window, wearing a flat, focused expression that tells Maxine she’s on the job. She doesn’t look like she walked here. Maxine shakes off her coat, feeling the water dripping down her neck, and Zoe’s phone vanishes with a smile and an easy greeting. They sit down together. Maxine orders espresso and the biggest slice of chocolate cake available. She’s been looking forward to this for weeks.
It’s not an interview. They talk about the weather, then the café, then a couple of politicians Maxine hadn’t been able to pin anything on up to now. She’s not dumb enough to think Zoe Morgan gives away freebies or gets loose-lipped about her clients, so if Zoe throws anyone to the wolves there must be some other business behind it, but dirt is dirt and Maxine doesn’t much care what Zoe’s up to as long as her tips pan out. Besides, maybe if Maxine digs deep enough she’ll find the misdirect. It always helps to have a place to start.
She tips up her cup and thinks about ordering another espresso. Beyond the bushy garlands and fairylights the clouds are clearing, though, and the mellow Christmas soundtrack has started to repeat itself already. Zoe says something about another appointment and Maxine nods and looks around for her purse. She’s got Zoe’s number. She can track Zoe down again.
“Oh, by the way,” she says, remembering. “I was going to ask, have you seen John lately? You know, John Anderson. I had a story I was hoping he could help with, but he seems to have changed his number. Do you know how I can get in touch?”
Zoe’s fishing for her phone, probably to call her driver; she stops, sits back, gives Maxine a flatly assessing look. “Our mutual friend John?” she says eventually. “He’s hard on phones. He probably dropped it somewhere. What sort of help did you need?”
“It’s an accounting scandal. Well, I hope it will be. It’s more exciting than it sounds. I could use an actuary. Have you got his new number?”
Zoe opens her mouth, then closes it again, then says, “Is that what he’s doing these days? I don’t think I do have his current number, sorry. But if I see him, I’ll let him know you were looking for him.” She hesitates, glancing at Maxine with a distinctly curious gleam. “I take it things didn’t work out? I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Don’t be,” Maxine says blithely. “He didn’t change his number to get away from me, if that’s what you thought. I broke it off. He’s sweet, but I really don’t have time for that right now.” Especially not for a man who’s still hung up on another woman, specifically one Zoe Morgan, not that Maxine’s going to say that to Zoe’s face. She’s wondering if Zoe might be just a bit hung up on John Anderson too.
“You are a busy woman,” Zoe says. “I’m sure John was sorry, though.”
“He took it very well. I couldn’t blame him if he was relieved, to be honest, after the whole Zambrano fiasco. He was very good about it, but you can’t tell me he wanted to be shot at and beaten up by HR thugs on a carousel. I doubt you have to deal with that sort of thing in actuary...ing... whatever it is actuaries actually do. He never told me how you two met, by the way. It wasn’t through Match-Heart.com, was it?”
“No,” Zoe says. “I do freelance work for his company occasionally. Sometimes we have clients in common. We met on a job involving a pharmaceutical company. It’s not a very interesting story.”
Maxine’s itching to ask all about Zoe’s clients, especially the ones Zoe has in common with John Anderson’s expensive actuarial firm, but Zoe’s given her as much as she’s going to today and Maxine has work of her own waiting back at the office, so she nods and lets it go. She’s already planning how to approach Zoe’s new leads. It’s a pity Maxine couldn’t have recorded this conversation, but Zoe’s not the sort of contact who takes kindly to being put on the record and Maxine’s pretty sure this is a relationship that’s going to work out well for both of them. She’s not going to burn it until she’s got as much out of Zoe as she can.
She starts to pull her damp coat back on. “By the way,” Zoe says, crossing her legs and leaning back in her armchair with an amused upwards glance, “I heard there was another big story you were after. How’s the hunt for the Man in the Suit going?”
Maxine has to laugh. “Please,” she says. “Who told you that? I dropped him weeks ago.”
“Did you? Why?”
“Urban legend,” Maxine says confidently. “After the Zambrano thing, I decided if the guy existed I’d have met him by now. I almost got killed and did I see a single superhero in a snappy suit? No offense to John, but a nice actuary with glasses and a dog from a dating website doesn’t really cut it. Though he did his best, bless him. And the third date was fun, though I never did find out what that car was compensating for.”
She remembers the car with regret. She liked the car. She liked the dog, too, and John’s place was the best advertisement for an actuarial career she’d ever seen, but really she doesn’t have the time. She pays the bill and heads for the door. The look on Zoe’s face follows her all the way back to the office.
THE END