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SMACK.
The sound resonates through the mostly-empty office as Mia Fey drops a stack of papers on the desk. From years of practice throwing papers and files down in frustration, the multicoloured sheets somehow remain in their neat little stacks and miraculously do not fly all over the room.
“What’s up, Kitten?” Diego looks up from the couch, looking the very picture of relaxation with his legs stretched out in front of him and propped up on the office’s small coffee table. He’s got a mug in one hand, loose papers in the other. Mia finds herself envious; she wishes she could be as calm as him in this moment.
“I don’t think I can take another minute of looking over these case files,” she says. Mia runs a hand through her bangs and stares down at the files in question, brows furrowed. “We’ve been working on this case for days, Diego. I’ve memorized every detail I can. It’s time for a break.”
“You said it,” Diego agrees. He gently places his papers down on the couch and slowly stands up, reaching up above himself to stretch until his back pops. “My coffee’s gone cold.”
Mia pouts. “Put on a fresh pot.”
“I’ve got a better idea.” Diego smiles at her with his usual devil-may-care grin. “Why don’t we go out--”
“Ohhh no.” Mia stands up from the desk and crosses her arms over her chest. She doesn’t miss the way Diego’s eyes dart to her cleavage. He at least has the grace to look away when she glares at him. “We are not just going for coffee. Not again; the barista at your usual cafe gives me the creeps. No. I’m hungry, so you’re taking me for a proper breakfast for once.”
Diego’s smile fades and is replaced with a more thoughtful frown. He’s not displeased, Mia can tell; she’s just thrown him for a loop. But then, after a moment’s pause, his lion’s smile comes back full-force. “Ha…! I know just the place.”
“I still can’t believe you brought me to Denny’s.”
Diego leans back in the booth seat, legs stretched out far enough his heels can rest on the empty space beside Mia. He wiggles his feet at her in a manner Mia can only describe as ‘impudent.’ To his credit, though, he tries to hide his smirk behind the rim of the coffee mug he raises to her.
The smug bastard.
“You wanted breakfast, I took you to a breakfast place.”
“This is not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean, Kitten?”
He takes a long, deep drink of his coffee, making sure to slurp it as loud as he possibly can just to irritate her. Mia sputters and tries to come up with a response, but she’s saved from having to say anything by Diego violently spitting out his coffee and spraying it all over the (blessedly empty) table behind them.
“This coffee tastes like shit,” he says. And then he promptly takes another drink.
Mia, dumbfounded, can do nothing but stare across the table at him. At least Diego is swallowing this time, but she can’t shake the worry that the next time he spits his coffee out (and there will be a next time, she’s sure), it’s going to be all over her. The only thing to distract her from that very real fear is the waitress coming over to their table.
“Ready to order?”
Mia sighs and opens her menu. She may not be happy about being here, but Diego does have a point: she wanted breakfast, so damn it, she is going to have her breakfast.
“Yes. I’ll have the... Build Your Own Slam with eggs, pancakes, bacon, and... potatoes.”
“Right.” The waitress scribbles down Mia’s order, and turns to Diego. “And yourself, sir?”
“Ha…!” Diego sits up and slams his mug down on the table, making the waitress jump. Mia just rolls her eyes and reaches for his unopened menu. “Just the coffee; it’s all I need. Black as night, hot as the sun… Not a drop of milk or sugar to--”
“He’ll have the Santa Fe Skillet. Thanks.”
The waitress takes their menus and hurries out of there awkwardly. Diego has gone back to lounging in his seat, but this time there’s a notable hunch to his shoulders. Mia almost laughs; he looks like a spoiled child told to put his toys away.
“Are you mad I interrupted one of your ridiculous fake metaphors?” she asks, reaching across the table to pinch his cheek. “Aww, I’m sowwy, I didn’t mean to hurt your feewings.”
Diego bats her hand away petulantly, but he can’t stop himself from smiling. “You stopped me before I could order a fourth cup.”
“Good lord, Diego. You don’t even like the coffee here.” Mia pushes her mug over to him. “Just have mine.”
He eyes the mug furtively. “You sure?”
Mia laughs and, in a lilting, sing-song tone, she says, “If it’ll get you to stop pouting…”
Diego reaches for the mug, laying his hand over Mia’s for a moment. “What would I do without you?”
“Die of caffeine withdrawal, probably.”
They both laugh. Diego takes the coffee. He takes a grateful gulp, letting the silence stretch between them a moment before putting the drink back down. Mia drums her fingers against the table, lost in thought.
“I was being serious, you know,” he says quietly.
Mia looks at him out of the corner of her eye. “You’re never serious.”
“Ha…! That’s where you’re wrong, Kitten.” He shifts in his seat, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “I’m serious about three things. One…”
He swirls Mia’s cup around, sloshing the remainder of the coffee in it all around the rim. Not a single drop gets on the table. “Coffee.
“Two.” He holds up two fingers. “Putting criminals behind bars.
“And three…”
Before he can list off the third thing, their waitress makes her grand reappearance carrying their meals. She places them on the table without a word, clearly eager to get out of there as soon as possible lest Diego say something else strange to her. Mia holds up a hand to Diego to pre-emptively keep him quiet, and orders herself a tea to go with her meal. “And another coffee for him,” she adds. “Black. Actually, just bring us a whole pot if you can.”
“Yes, ma’am. Right away.”
She scurries off again and Mia turns back to Diego. He smiles softly at her.
“What?” she asks. “Should I have ordered two pots?”
“Yes,” Diego says, but his dopey smile stays firmly in place. He rests his chin on his hand, looking for all the world like a smitten puppy. “You’re something else, you know that?”
Mia rolls her eyes, but she can’t hide the flush that paints her cheeks. “So I’m told.”
“No, I mean it. You’re--”
“Diego,” Mia sighs, effectively cutting him off. “I can’t even hear you right now over the growling of my own stomach. So will you quit with the bedroom eyes and dig in already?”
Diego looks taken aback, as if he’d completely forgotten about their food. He looks down at his Santa Fe Skillet and back up at Mia. “Bedroom eyes?”
As if he’d activated his own magic spell, Diego leans forward again, elbow on the table and chin resting on his knuckles. The corner of his lips tug his expression into a smirk, and his eyes narrow, heavy-lidded and willfully seductive. Mia may scoff at him, but for all his bluster, Diego really does have the look down pat. “If that’s what you wanted all along, Kitten, you should have just said so. I would have been happy to take you home and make you breakfast after we--”
Before he can finish his sentence, Mia stabs a potato from Diego’s dish with her fork and shoves it in his mouth. His eyes go wide, and for a moment he just stares at her, but she yanks the fork back out of his mouth to leave him to chew. Quietly .
Diego swallows, still staring dumbstruck at Mia. Somehow, he looks even more taken with her than ever before. His mouth falls open a second, as if he wants to say something, but it snaps shut a second later. He tries again, holding up a finger as if he’s going to make some great speech, but he quickly curls that finger in and makes a fist, which he quickly bumps against his mouth.
Mia reaches across the table to ruffle his hair. She has to admit, she kind of likes him when he gets flustered like this.
“Just eat your breakfast, Diego.”
They finish their meals (and about five more cups of coffee). Diego foots the bill, drains the last of his mug and, just as predicted, spits it out into his empty skillet before they leave.
“You’re disgusting,” Mia chides, but the fond smile on her face contradicts her words. Diego just shrugs.
“The coffee is what’s disgusting,” he retorts. “Honestly, I don’t know how they can serve that vile sludge with a clear conscience. You’d think that…”
They cross the threshold of the Denny’s lobby and Mia grabs Diego by the lapels of his winter coat. He falls silent and she grins at him for just a moment before pulling him in for a long, affectionate kiss.
Diego sighs into it. She can feel his smile.
Mia pulls away and puts a finger to his lips. Diego’s eyes try to follow it, but all he ends up doing is going cross-eyed.
“Enough about the coffee,” Mia says. “Let’s get back to the office. I’ll even let you take us to your favourite café on the way.”
Diego grins. Mia lifts her finger away. “Even though the barista gives you the creeps?”
“Even though the barista gives me the creeps.”
Diego laughs. He reaches around Mia and tangles a hand in the back of her hair. “You’re the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me, Kitten.”
“I know,” Mia says, and she kisses him again.