It is one thing to drink yourself to sleep in company. It is quite another to do it on a week night when you have to go into work the next morning in the company of the person you got drunk with the night before. That was Meg's dilemma this morning. Her head was pounding, and despite there being no actual proof of whatever might have happened last night in her apartment, she was worried she might have embarrassed herself - or AJ - so thoroughly that he would never want to have anything to do with her ever again. Of course, he had promised her a ride into work, so she couldn't even avoid him. She was just going to have to face the music, provided it beat in time with the thumping in her head.
First things first, though ....Groping her way out of bed, she decided to forego the painkillers and water in favor of a shower, wincing her way into the bathroom to set the water flowing. A few minutes under the hot water should open those baby blues.
It was a good thing she had opted for the shower, or she might have been a little startled to find a certain secret agent sneaking in through her front door to surprise her with breakfast. Whether he'd waited for that opportunity or had just gotten lucky was unclear, but he didn't have any trouble getting in - a point he found slightly disturbing. And while she was in the shower, he got the coffee going and started frying up bacon and eggs, which he'd brought over from his own kitchen, just in case she was all out.
If she'd been a little more awake, she might have noticed the noises coming from her kitchen, but it was the scent of coffee that caught her nose, and even then, only after she'd gotten out of the shower. She didn't recall seeing a window open, so where was that smell coming from' It was enticing, though. Wrapping a towel beneath her arms, she wandered out with the intention of putting her own coffee pot on, and let out a squawk of shock at the sight of AJ in her kitchen.
"What the ....how did you get in"!"
"How do you think I got in?" he asked, smirking as she confronted him in just a towel, which was a pretty enticing sight actually. He looked her over, knowing she was probably hung over and unsure what she remembered about the previous night. He picked up a set of keys he'd found in her purse and dangled them from a finger. "You really should be more careful, you know," he teased before turning back to the business of frying eggs and bacon before they burned. He was already dressed for work in a freshly pressed suit and tie, and looking like the drinks they'd shared the night before had had little or no effect on his ability to function.
She, on the other hand, looked distinctly rough, tucking the towel tighter about herself as she looked at him blearily from beneath a mop of tangled hair. "You stole my keys?" she asked, mildly horrified by his behavior. But only mildly - he'd brought food and coffee, that was more than enough to allow her to forgive him. "You're a thief." Her expression softened into a smile, though. "Thank you for not letting me break my rules last night," she said quietly, hugging herself. "I'll, um ....clothes and such." Making a hasty retreat, she snatched the first clothes to hand out of the closet and hid herself in the bathroom again to dress and try to correct the damage from her drunken evening.
"Nice try, but technically speaking, I'm a CIA Agent specializing in covert operations," he pointed out with a grin, which was just another way of saying he was a secret agent with a license to kill. Thieving might be part of the job sometimes, but it wasn't what it was all about. Nor were assassinations. In fact, he avoided jobs like those at all costs. Assassinations were for, well, assassins and marksmen, and he considered himself neither of those either, even if his job did involve that from time to time. "You're welcome!" he called back, chuckling a little as she rushed off again to hide in the bathroom. He had rules of his own, after all.
With company in her apartment, it took her significantly less time to consider herself fit for human company than it usually did. When she emerged, she was dressed reasonably smartly, the magic of make up had occurred, and she was in the process of pinning her hair back from her face, looking far more like herself than she had having just rolled out of the shower.
"Now I resemble a member of the human race ..." She smiled, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "Good morning. And did you by any chance bring aspirin?"
"And you didn't before?" he asked, sliding the eggs onto a plate as she kissed his cheek. He smiled at the kiss, but made no mention of it, nor was he able to reciprocate with his hands busy with breakfast. "On the counter," he told her, nodding to where he'd left a bottle of aspirin, along with her keys. "I hope you don't mind your eggs over-easy," he added, for good measure.
"I love you," she groaned in delight, pouncing on the aspirin with the desperation of the truly hungover. She swallowed a couple dry, proving that her headache was definitely up there in the epic range, before turning her attention back to him. "You know, I have no idea what over-easy means. I'm assuming it's not undercooked."
Both brows arched upwards, surprised by her abrupt declaration of love but assuming she didn't really mean it. He knew she liked him, but love" It was a bit premature for that. "Have a seat, princess. You're about to find out what Americans like to eat for breakfast." And here, she probably thought it was fake scones and burnt coffee.
"I'm a princess now?" Laughing carefully so as not to make her head throb again, she slid into a seat at the counter, making an effort to keep her eyes open rather than give into the urge to lay her forehead down and pretend the world didn't exist for another couple of hours. "I, um ....I don't actually remember much of what happened last night after the ice cube," she confessed in embarrassment. "I wasn't too ....handsy, was I?"
"No, not really," he assured her honestly. She might have straddled his lap and tried to convince him to stay, but he wouldn't define that as being handsy exactly, if he understood the meaning of the word. "Not much happened after you took your bra off. I tucked you in, and you passed out," he told her, setting a plate of fried eggs and bacon and toast in front of her, along with strong, black coffee. "Drink your coffee. It will help you feel better."
"Oh god, I did take it off, didn't I?" She groaned, hiding her eyes for a moment. "Sadly, that was quite mild behavior for the drunk version of me. You're lucky I didn't tie you down and take advantage of your gentlemanly nature." The plate in front of her caught her attention. "Goodness ....I thought you ate donuts for breakfast?" she teased, reaching for the coffee cup to take a long, slow sip.
He chucked at both her statements. "I'm not a gentleman and I never said I ate donuts for breakfast. That was a coffee break, not breakfast," he pointed out, fixing a plate for himself and taking a lean on the counter opposite her. "You clean up pretty good for having a hangover."
"You are a gentleman," she insisted, smiling at him as she raised a forkful to start eating. "Mmm ....how much do I have to pay you to feed me every morning?" As to the way she cleaned up, well ...."If you could see me from in here, you wouldn't say that," she told him in amusement. "I feel as though someone tried to squeeze a size ten brain into my size four head."
"I've already got a job, thanks." He smiled but said nothing further regarding whether or not he was a gentleman. There were probably women out there who'd disagree with her, for whatever reasons. "I'm telling you, drink your coffee. It helps, trust me," he insisted, dunking his toast in his eggs before taking a bite.
"I promise, I don't normally drink so much," she said quietly, taking his advice and alternating bites of breakfast with gulps of coffee. "I really am sorry. I know I get a little uncensored when I drink."
"Let me ask you something ....Did you have fun?" he asked, watching her over the rim of his coffee cup as he took a sip. There was a point to his question that he'd make once she'd answered.
That was a no-brainer to answer, which was just as well, because she thought her brain might still be trying to fit into the spangly leotard she'd worn once at the age of four. "I did," she nodded carefully, smiling at him. "I had a lot of fun, actually. Thank you."
First things first, though ....Groping her way out of bed, she decided to forego the painkillers and water in favor of a shower, wincing her way into the bathroom to set the water flowing. A few minutes under the hot water should open those baby blues.
It was a good thing she had opted for the shower, or she might have been a little startled to find a certain secret agent sneaking in through her front door to surprise her with breakfast. Whether he'd waited for that opportunity or had just gotten lucky was unclear, but he didn't have any trouble getting in - a point he found slightly disturbing. And while she was in the shower, he got the coffee going and started frying up bacon and eggs, which he'd brought over from his own kitchen, just in case she was all out.
If she'd been a little more awake, she might have noticed the noises coming from her kitchen, but it was the scent of coffee that caught her nose, and even then, only after she'd gotten out of the shower. She didn't recall seeing a window open, so where was that smell coming from' It was enticing, though. Wrapping a towel beneath her arms, she wandered out with the intention of putting her own coffee pot on, and let out a squawk of shock at the sight of AJ in her kitchen.
"What the ....how did you get in"!"
"How do you think I got in?" he asked, smirking as she confronted him in just a towel, which was a pretty enticing sight actually. He looked her over, knowing she was probably hung over and unsure what she remembered about the previous night. He picked up a set of keys he'd found in her purse and dangled them from a finger. "You really should be more careful, you know," he teased before turning back to the business of frying eggs and bacon before they burned. He was already dressed for work in a freshly pressed suit and tie, and looking like the drinks they'd shared the night before had had little or no effect on his ability to function.
She, on the other hand, looked distinctly rough, tucking the towel tighter about herself as she looked at him blearily from beneath a mop of tangled hair. "You stole my keys?" she asked, mildly horrified by his behavior. But only mildly - he'd brought food and coffee, that was more than enough to allow her to forgive him. "You're a thief." Her expression softened into a smile, though. "Thank you for not letting me break my rules last night," she said quietly, hugging herself. "I'll, um ....clothes and such." Making a hasty retreat, she snatched the first clothes to hand out of the closet and hid herself in the bathroom again to dress and try to correct the damage from her drunken evening.
"Nice try, but technically speaking, I'm a CIA Agent specializing in covert operations," he pointed out with a grin, which was just another way of saying he was a secret agent with a license to kill. Thieving might be part of the job sometimes, but it wasn't what it was all about. Nor were assassinations. In fact, he avoided jobs like those at all costs. Assassinations were for, well, assassins and marksmen, and he considered himself neither of those either, even if his job did involve that from time to time. "You're welcome!" he called back, chuckling a little as she rushed off again to hide in the bathroom. He had rules of his own, after all.
With company in her apartment, it took her significantly less time to consider herself fit for human company than it usually did. When she emerged, she was dressed reasonably smartly, the magic of make up had occurred, and she was in the process of pinning her hair back from her face, looking far more like herself than she had having just rolled out of the shower.
"Now I resemble a member of the human race ..." She smiled, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "Good morning. And did you by any chance bring aspirin?"
"And you didn't before?" he asked, sliding the eggs onto a plate as she kissed his cheek. He smiled at the kiss, but made no mention of it, nor was he able to reciprocate with his hands busy with breakfast. "On the counter," he told her, nodding to where he'd left a bottle of aspirin, along with her keys. "I hope you don't mind your eggs over-easy," he added, for good measure.
"I love you," she groaned in delight, pouncing on the aspirin with the desperation of the truly hungover. She swallowed a couple dry, proving that her headache was definitely up there in the epic range, before turning her attention back to him. "You know, I have no idea what over-easy means. I'm assuming it's not undercooked."
Both brows arched upwards, surprised by her abrupt declaration of love but assuming she didn't really mean it. He knew she liked him, but love" It was a bit premature for that. "Have a seat, princess. You're about to find out what Americans like to eat for breakfast." And here, she probably thought it was fake scones and burnt coffee.
"I'm a princess now?" Laughing carefully so as not to make her head throb again, she slid into a seat at the counter, making an effort to keep her eyes open rather than give into the urge to lay her forehead down and pretend the world didn't exist for another couple of hours. "I, um ....I don't actually remember much of what happened last night after the ice cube," she confessed in embarrassment. "I wasn't too ....handsy, was I?"
"No, not really," he assured her honestly. She might have straddled his lap and tried to convince him to stay, but he wouldn't define that as being handsy exactly, if he understood the meaning of the word. "Not much happened after you took your bra off. I tucked you in, and you passed out," he told her, setting a plate of fried eggs and bacon and toast in front of her, along with strong, black coffee. "Drink your coffee. It will help you feel better."
"Oh god, I did take it off, didn't I?" She groaned, hiding her eyes for a moment. "Sadly, that was quite mild behavior for the drunk version of me. You're lucky I didn't tie you down and take advantage of your gentlemanly nature." The plate in front of her caught her attention. "Goodness ....I thought you ate donuts for breakfast?" she teased, reaching for the coffee cup to take a long, slow sip.
He chucked at both her statements. "I'm not a gentleman and I never said I ate donuts for breakfast. That was a coffee break, not breakfast," he pointed out, fixing a plate for himself and taking a lean on the counter opposite her. "You clean up pretty good for having a hangover."
"You are a gentleman," she insisted, smiling at him as she raised a forkful to start eating. "Mmm ....how much do I have to pay you to feed me every morning?" As to the way she cleaned up, well ...."If you could see me from in here, you wouldn't say that," she told him in amusement. "I feel as though someone tried to squeeze a size ten brain into my size four head."
"I've already got a job, thanks." He smiled but said nothing further regarding whether or not he was a gentleman. There were probably women out there who'd disagree with her, for whatever reasons. "I'm telling you, drink your coffee. It helps, trust me," he insisted, dunking his toast in his eggs before taking a bite.
"I promise, I don't normally drink so much," she said quietly, taking his advice and alternating bites of breakfast with gulps of coffee. "I really am sorry. I know I get a little uncensored when I drink."
"Let me ask you something ....Did you have fun?" he asked, watching her over the rim of his coffee cup as he took a sip. There was a point to his question that he'd make once she'd answered.
That was a no-brainer to answer, which was just as well, because she thought her brain might still be trying to fit into the spangly leotard she'd worn once at the age of four. "I did," she nodded carefully, smiling at him. "I had a lot of fun, actually. Thank you."