Coffee and Strawberries

Author's Note: Yes, yes I know; I should really go back to writing 'Partner' instead of this, but hey- my hands control what I write, not me! I hope I finish this. I mean, I have the intention to, honest! And a, uh, kinda-sorta plot...

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Prologue: The Fight That Started It All

“No.”

I stared, cranky and sleep deprived, at the infuriating person in front of me who dared believe he could take away my only joy of the day- the indispensable, crucial, vital thing I needed to have.

“No?” I demanded, my dark blue eyes widening in indignation, “What do you mean ‘no’?!”

“No.” He repeated, his irritating grey eyes glowering at me and annoyingly well-muscled arms crossed as he stood between me and the cupboard, “There is no way,” Strands of his dirty blond hair danced in the air as he shook his head, “That I’m letting you drink more coffee.”

“Why not!?!?” I stepped forward with an angry, intimidating air, my blood boiling at his sheer nerve, “You listen to me, Jay Seerwell, and listen good,” I put my face mere inches in front of his, glowering, “I. Want. My. Coffee.”

“Now, guys,” Dark-skinned Paul, the official peacekeeper of the household, stood up from his place on the counter next to quiet Vanessa who was ignoring us and eating cereal, both probably seeing the argument coming.

He tried to intervene, stepping over Jacob (who was currently lying drunk on the floor) to approach us, “This is the start of the new year- a fresh start, right? Why don’t you calm down, and we ca-,”

“No coffee.” The bane of my existence spoke to me, not even taking notice of Paul’s noble attempts to achieve kitchen wide peace- though I couldn’t really talk, since I wasn’t either, “You’ve already had two cups full and you know that too much caffeine isn’t good for you.”

“-have a nice, peaceful breakfast to start the year-,”

I stamped my foot on the ground, the way all women do when frustrated and put my hands on my hips, raising my voice, “I don’t care, you jerk! Give me back my coffee!!!”

“Come on, please, Sheryl’s gonna be up soon, and I think it’s her time of the mon-,”

Jay straightened his stance and I could tell that he was starting to get angry, “Look, Renae, I already told you; you’re not drinking that damned coffee!”

I scowled at his insult to my favorite beverage, “At least that ‘damned coffee’ is way better than your cooking!”

Paul groaned and sat at the counter, burying his head in his arms.

Jay’s eyes widened and he looked offended, which, I guess, was pretty reasonable, considering he was a chef and his dishes were his pride and joy- but that was exactly why I’d committed the low blow in the first place. Angry Jay was easier to deal with than calm Jay.

“You did not,” He hissed, eyes narrowing, and I wondered, for a moment, if I’d gone too far, “Just rate my food,” His eyebrow twitched proving that, yes, Jay Seerwall was indeed pissed off, “Lower than roasted bean drinks!!!”

I grinned, not caring about him possibly being too angry anymore, since I knew how to control an angry Jay; a few more well-placed insults and I knew he’d definitely storm off, leaving me to enjoy my darling coffee, “Yep.”

“I…see.” Jay gave a slow, crooked, forced grin, something evil glimmering in his stormy eyes.

My grin faded, as I was now really worried. Angry Jay didn’t grin, no matter how forced or scary.

“If that’s how it’s gonna be…”

He promptly turned around, opened the cupboard, grabbed my last pack of coffee-

And threw it out the window.

Utter silence reigned.

Vanessa dropped her spoon into her corn flakes, green eyes wide.

Paul looked from me, to Jay, to the window, to me again- and then ducked down onto the floor, muttering something that sounded like a swear word in another language.

“…You threw my coffee out the window.” My tone was disbelieving and misleadingly calm.

Jay smirked, completely and totally pleased with himself, “Yep. Sorry about that, Renae.”

…

I didn’t notice Sheryl coming down in my fury.

“YOU THREW MY COFFEE OUT THE WINDOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I shouted, raging.

The jerk shrugged, unaffected, “And you insulted my cooking.”

“BECAUSE YOU WOULDN’T LET ME HAVE MY COFFEE!!!!!”

Were his lips twitching?!!?!?

“DON’T YOU DARE LAUGH ABOUT THIS YOU JERK!!!! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU THREW OUT MY COFFEE!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“You weren’t listening to me. What else could I do?”

“ANYTHING BUT THROW MY COFFEE OUT THE FREAKING WINDOW!!!!!”

Jay sighed, exasperated, as if he was the one being harassed and not me. He suddenly put his arm around my shoulders, pulled me to him despite my indignant spluttering and- and- and-

Kissed me on the cheek.

“Sorry, okay?” He murmured and I froze at the feel of his lips gently brushing against my skin, his warm breath gently fanning my face, “I’ll buy you more coffee, any type you like, okay? I was just worried. And angry. Sorry. I won’t do it again.”

Then, as if he’d done nothing at all, he removed himself, heading out the kitchen, leaving me, Paul, Vanessa, Jacob and Sheryl staring after him in shock.

"I'm probably coming home late from work today," His nonchalant voice floated into the room just as I heard the door close.

…

Paul let out a long, low whistle just as Vanessa started laughing hysterically, falling off her stool and onto Jacob, who deserved it because he was catcalling.

Sheryl raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows, a lewd smirk on her pretty face, “Anything ya wanna tell us, darling?”

My face turned pure crimson, the embarrassment making me feel like my head was going to explode.

But worst of all, I didn't have any idea why he did that.

And that was where it all started.