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The Perkolator

Waiting for

courier_gavin at a table with a cup of coffee (black) steaming gently in front of him, Krycek reads the menu-board, trying to figure out why anyone would want kiwi-flavored syrup in their coffee. Or why you'd want a drink that was mostly milk. The macchiato didn't sound bad, though... If he needed to be awake for more than 20 consecutive hours, he might have to try one.

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Jake had wound Krycek's belt around his laptop case to make sure he didn't forget it. It looked a bit weird, but Jake did't care. He could smell the coffee. At some point he was going to remember to ask about a card, but right now, all that was on his mind was: "Cafe latte with hazel nut and chocolate syrup and cream. And a bendy straw."

Krycek waved Jake over once he'd gathered his coffee and made a face at the distinctly not-coffee-scented drink that the other had actually spent money on.

"What exactly is the point of coffee if you're going to put chocolate in it?" To his credit, he at least sounded curious rather than out and out derisive.

Jake looked like he didn't comprehend the questions for a moment, then he grinned and held his precious, precious coffee out towards Krycek. "Wanna try? Only a little, mind," he added quickly. "One suck, maybe."

"...Sure," he conceded. "In the interest of trying things I never have before. Why not?"

Narrowing his eyes at the straw, he took the cup carefully. A quick sip was enough to ensure that he might never have sugar again and he handed it back, nose wrinkled slightly. "Sweet. Very sweet. But not bad."

"Not bad?" Jake gaped at him. He took a sip of his latte to make sure it was indeed as heavenly as he remembered, and then he stared at Krycek. "Do you have weird mutated taste buds or something? This is... This is..." He was about to start flailing his arms, when he remembered he was still carrying his laptop case, and Krycek was probably the kind who kept grudges if he was bashed in the head. "This is yummy," he settled with, taking another sip.

Krycek smirked and shook his head, pushing his own cup across the table to Jake. Arching eyebrows, he pointed at it demonstratively. "This? Is coffee. It tastes like coffee and, surprisingly, smells like coffee. That-" He transferred his gesture to the cup Jake was milking with no apparent intention of putting it down. "-Is dessert."

Jake shook his head in pity. Obviously Krycek was not willing to see the Light. Jake had learned to live with the fact that there were -- amazing! -- people out there who didn't worship the wonder of coffee like he did, but to drink only black coffee..!

What a sad, deprived existance Krycek must have.

Shrugging, Krycek pulled his coffee back and had a sip - dark, slightly bitter, and strong. Add the accumulated tang of hundreds of thousands of pots filtered through before it and it'd be just like the FBI.

Glancing at Jake, he realized he didn't actually know the guy he'd been arguing with the past few minutes. "I'm Alex Krycek, by the way," he offered, amused.

There was no more latte. Jake put his glass down and poked the remains right at the bottom of the glass with his straw distractedly. "Yes, I know. Minion Krycek," Jake nodded. After a moment - "Oh! I'm Jake Gavin. My dad runs International Infonet."

Krycek frowned across the table. "Either Krycek or Alex, but if you call me 'minion' again, I have a bowel disruptor that hasn't yet been returned."

He considered Jake's introduction for a moment, sipping his coffee in the pause, then asked, "And what's that exactly?"

"Infonet? It's a courier service for the filthy rich," Jake said absently. "And we don't ask why they're filthy rich, either. In fact, dad's not so hot on questions in general."

Krycek snorted, looking less than impressed. "Most of the richest and the most powerful people don't want anyone to know the details of they got that way. Not surprising.

"Do you work for him, then?"

"Not now. Dad don't think I'm capable of proper discretion yet." He started unwinding the belt from around the case. "He may have said something like: Our clients won't trust someone who'd gladly sell his soul for a double mocha with cream." Jake sniffed. "He doesn't understand me at all."

Grinning slightly, he idly swished the last of his cooled coffee in the bottom of his cup. "Why doesn't he just promise them as a salary," he suggested. "He could pay you in double mochas so you can drink them until you piss milk and sugar."

"..." Jake's mouth dropped open. He tugged the belt loose, jumped out of his seat, dropped the belt in Krycek's lap, kissed Krycek on the mouth and stormed off, shouting, "Sorry, gotta go call my dad, pay my coffees would you? You're a brilliant, brilliant man!"

Krycek was distantly surprised that there wasn't a pop of displaced air, Jake got out of there so fast. Sitting up from the post-kiss-slouch he'd slid into, he breathed deep and gathered his wits. Slowly. Funny how I don't remember teenage hormones being this strong.

Noticing Jake's forgotten laptop case, he grabbed it and got up, wrapping the belt back around it for the moment. He paid at the counter - for both his and Jake's - and slipped a tip into the jar before retreating back to the dorms, just a little dazed.

::whips up specialty drink, including bendy straw::

Let me know if you want a refill. Or an IV drip. ::teasing grin::

Jake came back ten minutes later, looking mournful. He held his empty glass out silently.

::mock-ritually refills the glass::

Sighs happily, smiling brightly towards Hank before heading back to his table.

Lattes, mochas and the like are great substitutes for real breakfast. You get calcium, vitamin D, chocolate (if you do it right) and whipcream. It's like a donut in a cup!

I love you. Marry me? I can sex-change if girls are more your thing!

Well, truth be told... I'm flexible on that point... but uh... who the hell are you?

Does it matter?

Well. All right. I see you're old fashioned. You want to know people before you marry them and give them coffee every single day. for breakfast, elevenses, lunch, brunch, dinner... Ahem. I'm Jake.

Dude, you're talking marriage. As in living with someone for an extensive period of time. Yeah, it matters.

Now, if we're talking something else... it matters somewhat less. Follow?

Elevenses?

Elevenses is for when you need coffee between the breakfast cup and the lunch cup.

And I don't put out for coffee! ~~Unless it's really good, of course.~~

Oh man... high schoolers must be really different where you come from.

You'll propose to me - be willing to have a sex change - over a point of view on coffee (really good coffee), but sex is off the table.

Yeah, I'm thinking we come from pretty different sides of the track.

But, you know, no harm, no foul.

They probably are, yes.

And one night stand? You could take off without giving me coffee, if married? I would have coffee everyday. I bet there are special vows for these kind of situations.

I'm a shapeshifter, the sex-change thing? Really not that big a deal. Well. Not if I got coffee.

...I like coffee a lot.

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The Perkolator

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