Coffee For Two (FioLee)

Espresso Panna

Marshall grinned at the cute, chubby blonde next to him. "Hey, I'm Marshall Lee."
Fionna looked up in surprise, then grinned back. "I'm Fionna."
"You're here for the job?" He hoped she wasn't better at making coffee, or whatever the job was exactly. Or that she had four sick, lesbian grandmothers who she was the only caregiver for, and thus she desperately needed this job. Or both. Both was also unfortunate.

She nodded. "Yeah, I am."
"Oh, right. Stupid question. But hey, are you coffee? 'Cause you perk me up."
She laughed. "Pick-up lines already?"
He grinned. "Trust me, I've got more. Are you a shovel?"

"'Cause you dig me?" She guessed.
He shrugged. "I just came up with that, how did you get it?"
"Because it was a pick-up line about shovels." She pointed out, grinning.
He leaned in close. "It got you to like me, didn't it?"

"Maybe." She smiled. "But then again, we're competing for the same job."
"Oh, right... you don't have four lesbian grandmothers who all depend on you, right?"
She blinked at him in surprise. "No... why?"
"Because four grandmothers are more sympathetic than two grandmothers, and one grandmother is sympathetic enough. And you can't have four grandmothers without them being in relationships with each other."

"They don't have to be lesbians though. They could be bisexual or pansexual." Fionna pointed out.
"True." Marshall agreed. "But back to my amazing pick-up lines--"
Fionna laughed, interrupting him.
"If you were a guitar, I'd pick you." He continued.

"Oh, that's good. At least you haven't tried, 'did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?'"
Marshall shrugged. "Yeah, but that's cliche and it implies that you're a demon."
"Ever had a girl try to pick you up like that?" Fionna asked.
Marshall smirked. "With that line? Yeah."

"And are you a demon?"
"Only in bed." His smirk deepened, and she burst out laughing, catching him off-guard. "What?"
"You can't say things like that! We're trying to get a job here!" Fionna pointed out.
Marshall shrugged, smiling at her. "The interviewer isn't here. No other potential baristas are either, and if talking up the cute blonde next to me gets me anywhere--."

Penelope Rosser opened the door at that moment, fixing them both with a steely gaze.
"Ms... Mertons?" She asked, glancing at Fionna.
She rose and smiled at Marshall. "Good luck."
"Same to you, Ms. Fionna Mertons."

Penelope shut the door behind Fionna, before returning to her desk. "Now, Ms. Mertons, what are your particular strengths in this line of business?"
"I, um... I can make coffee?" Fionna guessed. "And tea? And anything else I'll pick up pretty soon? Except baking, I'm not so good at that..."

Penelope's lips were a thin line. "Well, that solves the next question... what are your strengths and weaknesses as an average employee?"
"Um... I'm on time for work?" Fionna guessed. This was not what she was used to-- the FBI, and assassination, was vastly different. And the last time she had talked to anyone like this was years ago, and even then, they were just watching her attack the training dummies. "And... I'll stay late if you need me to? Oh, and I get along with others. Except if they're evil."

Penelope raised an eyebrow. "...indeed. Ms. Mertons, why do you want this job?"
"I just need money to... help pay off college." Fionna lied. She was the right age, after all. "And for groceries and stuff." She said hurriedly.
"I doubt your wages here would pay rent in a respectable hovel, Ms. Mertons, not to mention college." Penelope replied in clipped tones, writing this information down.

Fionna shifted uneasily, her enthusiasm for this job dwindling. "It's something."
Penelope stared at her for a minute, before 'accidentally' knocking her coffee over. "Oops."
"I got it!" Fionna said, catching it before it hit the ground, without spilling a drop.
Penelope took it back, interested. "Indeed, Ms. Mertons. Thank you. Would you be so kind as to send Mr. Abadeer in?"

"Um... do you need my phone number?"
"That won't be necessary. As you and Mr. Abadeer are the only ones who showed up, and Shannon quit because she was having a baby, and Dave was doing God knows what, you'll get the job. The interview is to ensure that you two are not dangerous. Be here at 8:30 sharp tomorrow morning."

When Marshall came in, a fresh cup of coffee was on her desk, steaming slightly.
"Sit down, Mr. Abadeer." She ordered.
He froze, before mentally smacking himself for not giving her a fake name.

"Now, what are your particular strengths in this line of business?"
Marshall brightened. "I made awesome coffee, no matter what anyone else says! And I can kind of bake, I guess. My friend made me learn."
"Indeed, and your... weaknesses?" Penelope asked carefully.
"I guess I don't make the stupid leaf water that well..." Marshall admitted.

Penelope wrote that down, before folding her hands on her desk. "What are your strengths and weaknesses as an average employee?"
Marshall blinked at her. "I get along well with others. And I'll help clean up." He glanced back at the door, then murmured conspiratorially, "It totally ruins my bad-boy image, but I'm actually pretty good about cleaning up after myself."

"Yes, I'm aware of how well you and Ms. Mertons get along. I heard you referring to yourself as 'a demon in bed'." Penelope commented.
Marshall flushed, and Penelope moved onto the next question. "Why do you want this job?"

"Um... I'm saving up for a new electric guitar."
Penelope folded her hands underneath her chin, interested. "You play?"
"Yeah." Marshall smiled.
Penelope cocked her head. "Hmm... well, that is certainly an interesting tidbit, and as long as you don't serenade--" She knocked her coffee cup over again, and he jumped back before it touched him, then caught the coffee.

"No offense, but you should be more careful." He huffed. "This could have been like the McDonald's thing."
Penelope nodded sagely, picking the cup up firmly by the rim. "Thank you for taking care of my pocketbook, Mr. Abadeer. Please be here at 8:30am tomorrow."