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Coffee Clashes

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Summary: Cordelia's job is less than fantastic, but the new temp is making things surprisingly nice around the office lately. And they've never had better coffee.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Dr. Who/Torchwood > Cordelia-Centered(Past Donor)AmarinRoseFR71628051,76429 Jan 0929 Jan 09Yes
Coffee Clashes

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DISCLAIMER: The characters depicted in this story do not belong to me. I do not make any money from this.

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Cordelia sighed unhappily and turned another page in her magazine.

The rapid-fire clacking of computer keys continued. It wasn’t that loud, so it would have been fine, except the slightly unsteady rhythm of the typing kept throwing Cordy’s concentration off.

Or that could have been her new brand of painkillers. Something the new temp had recommended.

Never enough money in the budget for fixing leaky faucets or giving me a raise, but we can afford a temp while Wesley’s ransacking the Council’s library for Shanshu stuff? Cordy griped, silently.

However much Donna Noble annoyed her with her brassy hair, brassy attitude, and damn-near brass balls approach to getting a job, Cordelia did have to admit that the office had never been run smoother (though she’d done the best she knew how, dammit!) and more importantly, she’d never had less work.

Or better coffee.

Perking up slightly at the thought of another cup of perk-me-up, Cordelia threw her magazine down on top of the pile of demon-sighting reports Kat had sent over last night (that she was supposed to be going over, but had gotten bored with after the third sighting of the fat guy walking his equally fat ferret, and the fourth report about the new family over on Vine with the really really bad farting problem) and poked her head out of Angel’s office door. “Hey, Donna?”

“Hmm?” Donna’s typing slowed, but did not stop as she gave a split second glance a modicum of her attention to Cordelia.

“You think you could teach me how to make coffee as good as yours?” Donna wasn’t going to be there forever, after all, and since coffee was the only non-blood thing Angel drank, and Wesley was the only one who ever drank tea, her being able to prepare brew that make Starbucks taste like demon goo would definitely be of the good.

“Mmmm, no, sorry?” Donna said absently. She typed frantically for the few seconds it took Cordelia to process that and get ready to argue, then paused and turned to face her. “It’s a friend’s secret recipe, and he only taught it to me after I promised not to share it. And, well, Ianto would find out, I just know he would.” She growled a bit and rolled her eyes. “That bloke’s too savvy by far.”

Seeing her sure hook for new jobs slipping out of her reach, Cordy made a desperate grab for a way around that promise. “Well, what if you only taught me, like, 95% of the secret recipe?” Sure, she could act, but if she couldn’t get her six-seven foot in the proverbial door beyond suntan lotion commercials, she’d never make it big. Maybe offering to make the execs coffee would get her somewhere.

And even if that turned out as well as her idea of streaking her hair blond did (as in: not), at least she’d never suffer from having to drink instant again.

Donna’s face remained passive for a moment, before a slow smile overtook her face. “Weee-eelll,” she mused. “I suppose if I left out a few of the secret ingredients it would still taste pretty good…”

Cordelia smirked. Success!

Now all she had to do was find some way to convince Donna that she could do better in the boyfriend department. John was a cutie, sure, and had an equally scrumptious accent (less shrill than Donna’s, too), but he was more spazzy than Xander/Willow offspring would have been.

And he kept licking things.

Hiding a shudder at the thought, Cordelia bounced into action, following Donna’s retreating form as she headed for the kitchen. Great coffee, less work, and Angel had even been acting less broody lately.

Life was pretty fantastic.

The End

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