Coffee Talk (Richard/casual){FIN}

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

Peter could honestly say that being the new guy in the middle of a department full of seasoned veterans wasn't easy. They were a good bunch of guys, but every so often, they liked to remind him that he was the low man on the totem pole.

Today, he wasn't sure if being the low man was a good or bad thing. Sitting in the uptown coffee shop, tapping his fingers on the table, Peter supposed he's have to wait and see on this one.

All he'd been told was that Mr. Richard Plantagenet wanted to meet with a member of his department, and the department had unanimously volunteered him to be that member; deeming that they had better things to be doing, and Peter could use the experience. Now, the theory was that Mr. Plantagenet wanted to report some incident that he didn't want advertised by walking into a police station. Rich people were funny that way - always concerned about what the other rich people thought.

All it meant for people like Peter was more work. Still, a coffee shop wasn't so bad a place to meet. Once he'd filled out the incident report, maybe he'd treat himself to a cup before heading back to his desk. And from the smells in the room, it was premium coffee, which would make it all worth while.

Just then, the door chimed and Peter straightened up and glanced towards it, hoping it was the older gentleman he'd been told to look for.

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

Richard Plantagenet was worried.

It was uncharacteristic of him to be so, and that in and of itself was alarming. But then, he had too many good reasons to be worried. The steadily deteriorating state of affairs between himself and Anne was growing worse by the day, the work he was doing for the crime world at Hector's behest was taking its toll on his already sleepless nights and the voice of his conscience still refused to stop berating him.

It had been over a year now - well over a year. When had he murdered Edward? His brother? October, wasn't it? October the year before last? However long it had been, the repercussions continued. Not in the form of persecution for his crimes; Richard had been sure to rid himself of every eventuality that could lead him to justice. He had come close - too close. Close enough to warrant, even after all this time, wanting to confirm he had been as successful as he thought.

Scheduling a meeting with an NYPD detective with the false motive of reporting an incident perhaps was not the best way to go about it; Richard had easy access to government and police records with his position. And yet part of him - the old Richard finding his footing once more, the Richard who revelled in his plots and plans, not this new man who was afraid of the voices and visions inside his head - though that this would be the more...entertaining method of finding out information.

What was even more entertaining than the psychological and emotional implications of this investigation was its very setting - Richard was not ordinarilly a consumer of coffee. But this was all part of the act, part of his dissembling nature...after all, if he was going to act the part of an innocent man, he might as well do it correctly.

Having donned his long black coat before leaving Plantagenet Manor, Richard would not have been all to distinguishable in a crowd were it not for the fact that his face was such a recognizable one. However, he had been certain to arrange the meeting in a place he didn't frequent, and despite the fact he was so easily acknowledged, it wasn't as obvious here as it would have been in downtown Manhattan. Entering the coffee shop and easily spotting the detective he had arranged to meet, the comptroller made his way haltingly over - though with slightly less of a regal air than was usual with him due to the walking stick in his good hand.

Having reached the table he nodded, all politeness.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, sir," he said, with a small smile.

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

Peter watched the older man walk into the room, dark coat and cane giving him an air of importance. And for some odd reason, Peter was reminded of a spy from one of the novels he read as a kid. It was probably just his imagination trying to make this more interesting than it was. Not every man who wore a long coat was concealing a dagger, as his uncle used to say. Don had written the book on shady meetings, so he was probably right. Still, Peter thought it would probably be interesting to do something cloak and dagger for once...

When the man purposely made his way over to where Peter was sitting, badge on the table, and incident report all ready to go, he knew this had to be Mr. Plantagenet. The man was older, and he had a face with character. He looked vaguely familiar – as he should have, as the ex-mayor – but Peter wouldn’t have noticed him if he hadn’t been looking for him.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, sir.”

Sir? Peter blinked. This was the first time he’d ever been addressed by the title of ‘sir’. He supposed that was just one of those things that the rich people did.

“Of course. Please, sit,” Peter straightened from his chair a bit, half hunched over the table, indicating the seat across from where he was sitting. “I’m Detective Peter Aramis,” he added, figuring while he had his hand extended, he might as well offer it in greeting.

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

Richard's smile grew a little wider at the man's evident surprise. In truth he had only addressed him as sir as he did not yet know his name and he wasn't one to leave it hanging as a question. 'Thank you for agreeing to meet with me Mister...?' It sounded so sloppy. That and the fact this man was a police force detective - not just any Mister at all.

“Of course. Please, sit,”

Planatagenet nodded again and did so, leaning his walking stick again the table before seating himself. His attention then returned to the man sitting opposite him.

“I’m Detective Peter Aramis,”

"So good to put a name to the face," Richard replied, shaking the Detective's hand with his usual unexpectedly firm grip before releasing it, tugging the glove from his left hand before wriggling his good right hand from its glove with practiced ease.

Then,

"Would you care for a coffee, Detective? Or are you a man who puts business before pleasure?"

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

"So good to put a name to the face.”

Peter smiled, surprised by the grip on the man as they shook hands. Even people his own age didn’t match the strength in that hand. Peter eased back into his chair, watching as he tugged the glove from his left hand, then wriggled his right out of the other glove. Clearly, the left arm was damaged, and the right was stronger to compensate. While Peter was interested, he had the tact not to ask about it. Besides, the handshake had proven to him that the man could clearly take care of business with the one hand.

“Likewise,” Peter replied, thinking it was the reverse on his end, putting a face to the name, but still the same sentiment applied.

"Would you care for a coffee, Detective? Or are you a man who puts business before pleasure?"

Peter was about to open his mouth and insist they could complete their business without coffee, but they were in a coffee shop. It was bound to look a little weird for two men to be sitting without something hot in front of them. And this was, after all, supposed to be more low profile for the man. Add on the fact that just smelling all the caffeine in the air was reminding his body that he hadn’t had a caffeine fix in a while, and he was very much sold on the idea.

“Normally I would put business first, but seeing as how business is being conducted in a coffee shop, I could definitely go for a cup,” Peter replied. “I’ve heard good things about this place.”

He had, it was true, but it was the smells coming from behind the counter that had sold him on it.

“Do you drink coffee, Mr. Plantagenet?” Peter asked, honestly not knowing if the man even liked coffee. The place may have just been a convenient place to meet.

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

“Normally I would put business first, but seeing as how business is being conducted in a coffee shop, I could definitely go for a cup. I’ve heard good things about this place.”

Richard nodded. The Detective's sentiments made perfect sense. They were meeting in a coffee shop - they should partake of what the place offered. The badge and report on the table were enough to rouse suspicion - a lack of coffee would only serve to heighten it.

“Do you drink coffee, Mr. Plantagenet?”

"Not ordinarily," Richard replied. "But I too have heard good things about this particular establishment. I thought I may as well kill two birds with one stone."

With an inward chuckle at his choice of words Richard hailed a passing waiter and placed his order for a plain black coffee. The waiter nodded and wrote down the order before addressing Aramis, aking what he would like to drink.

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

"Not ordinarily. But I too have heard good things about this particular establishment. I thought I may as well kill two birds with one stone."

Not ordinarily? How did the man get out of bed in the morning? He’d heard about people who didn’t drink caffeine, but he had yet to meet one. Peter shrugged, figuring that to each their own. He did have a good point, though. Might as well try the coffee while they were there.

When Mr. Plantagenet waved down the waiter, Peter waited his turn to order.

“Give me the strongest, blackest cup of coffee you have,” he ordered.

After growing up with Don literally making the coffee strong enough to float a nail, he could handle the strong stuff a lot better than the weak stuff. Peter waited until the waiter had wandered off before pulling his badge off the table and tucking it into his jacket pocket. He’d forgotten it was out, but it had been a good way to indicate who he was. Now, he didn’t need the advertisement.

“So, once the coffee comes, we’ll discuss your incident,” Peter told the other man, hoping he sounded professional. He was supposed to be directing things, after all. “I hope it was nothing too terrible.”

Who knew what it was? Everyone seemed to think he needed to be in the dark, so he was just going to go with it.

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

Richard smiled inwardly as the detetive ordered the strongest coffee the establishment had. He suppossed asa a detective one would need to be versed in such amounts and strengths of the beverage but thought it best not to mention it.

As the detective removed his badge from the table this, along with the prospect of coffee, made the meeting feel much less formal. Yet the badge had only been there for identification and the intention of the meeting was still clear in both their minds - though Richard's ideas for what he wanted to get out of the meeting were doubtless different to those of the detective.

“So, once the coffee comes, we’ll discuss your incident. I hope it was nothing too terrible.”

Here Richard paused, suddenly unsure. He couldn't very well divulge the fact that the incident he had supposedly witnessed was his brother's murder at his own hand, for that was certainly terrible and could not be spoken of openly. Yet to him it wasn't terrible but it needed to be alluded to somehow as the conversation progressed.

"I'm afraid it was," he said at last. "Hence my asking to meet you here, rather than at the police station. I wouldn't want what I witnessed to be spread about, you understand."

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

"I'm afraid it was. Hence my asking to meet you here, rather than at the police station. I wouldn't want what I witnessed to be spread about, you understand."

Peter didn’t understand. Sure, they had UA’s and CI’s they went out and met for obvious reasons, but older gentlemen who just didn’t want to be seen at the station weren’t as common. Still, here he was, so clearly it did happen. If it was something serious, Peter was sure the man could be persuaded into coming in.

“Of course,” Peter replied, pausing as caught sight of the waiter as he came back with their drinks. “But I’m sure you’ll feel better once it’s on paper.”

The coffee smelled divine as the cups were set on the table. Peter resisted the urge to just pick his up and gulp it. First, it would be gone far too quickly. Secondly, he wanted to have his statement down before he got lost in the warm aroma before him. He waited until the server was gone before he said anything else.

“Alright, Mr. Plantagenet. What happened?”

Pen poised, he waited. Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been too lengthy.

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

“Of course. But I’m sure you’ll feel better once it’s on paper.”

Richard nodded. Of course. Calm and collected as expected, despite the apparently horrific nature of the incident he had to report. But inside he was panicking. What was he meant to say, and how was he meant to say it, if he was to achieve his aim at this meeting? Of course he'd have to make up a fake incident before moving the conversation along but what? Why hadn't he planned this properly, as he should have? Granted, his last successful plan had in fact been a murder plot and years in the making, but since when was he, Richard, unable to come up with a convincing lie?

He truly was not himself, despite the fact his destruction of the stock market with Monte Cristo had helped him regain a bit of his former confidence. He was not altogether there yet - not by a long shot. The words of his brother, inside his head and from a dream, no doubt, were still present, persistent and proof enough.

“You may have got the top spot, Rickyboy, but you won’t have it for much longer. Pride before fall, as the old saying goes.”

How he wished that voice, that proud, arrogant voice would desist-

Richard was brought back to reality and his current predicament of as yet lacking a decent false incident with which to begin a small investigation into the lack thereof of his brother's murder with the arrival of the coffee. He smiled, nodded and thanked the waiter, resisting the urge to take a fortifying sip before refocussing his attention on the detective. The detective. Why had he thought this was a good idea?

“Alright, Mr. Plantagenet. What happened?”

Now there was a question indeed. What happened? It was so simple, just two words, and yet the answer could mean the success or failure of this particularly foolhardy plan of his. It was only then that it occurred to him if he were to report something terrible, the discussion would naturally tend towards that, rather than the matter Richard intended to discuss. He would report something small. Detective Aramis could interpret that terrible for Richard was different than the terrible he had expected, he would write whatever it was down, shrug it off as a strange quirk and they would move on.

"There's this couple," he said at last - it felt like that to him but in truth it did not seem as though he'd had to carefully chose his words, indeed, make up his lie on the spot. "They live close to us and its been almost every morning, for some time now, that their arguing has been a disturbance."

He didn't say anything more, both surprised and a little dismayed to find there was more than a hint of truth in his words, pertaining not a couple who lived near to himself and Anne but himself and Anne themselves.



ooc: Again, sorry this took so long and sorry it wasn't awfully brilliant. I'm in a good mood so Ricky muse is not terribly easy to come by. XD

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

"There's this couple. They live close to us and its been almost every morning, for some time now, that their arguing has been a disturbance."

Peter listened, quickly scribbling down what he needed to. Domestic Disturbance. Neighbors. Noise Complaint. Description: couple arguing every morning.

“Have you tried speaking to these neighbors, Mr. Plantagenet?” Peter enquired, wondering if these people knew how loud they were being. Perhaps they thought that they were protected behind their walls. Lord knows that he had enough experience with Baze barking at all hours to know that walls were far thinner than you’d like.

His gaze wandered back over to his coffee cup. He really wanted to drink it. A sip. Only one sip, then he was getting right back to this report. He picked the cup up and took a long drink, groaning. Oh, now this was good. It had smelled great, and now he knew it tasted even better. A small shudder of pleasure ran through him. He had gone too long without caffeine today. Already, his whole body felt relaxed, the empty spot in his stomach warm. Even the hints of that headache seemed to disappear instantly. It was very good coffee.

He cracked an eye open, not aware he’d closed his eyes, and glanced over at Mr. Plantagenet. Oh, that’s right, he was working. This is why he had been putting off the coffee. He opened his other eye and set his cup down.

Back to business...

“Well, we can certainly look into this Mr. Plantagenet,” he offered, clearing his throat. “I’ll just get your signature on this and it should all be taken care of.”

There wasn’t much they could do. They could go to the building and tell the couple they needed to be more considerate of their neighbors, but there had to be several complaints and a court order to do much good. As it was, that was all above his pay grade. He’d done what he was supposed to.

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

“Have you tried speaking to these neighbors, Mr. Plantagenet?”

Richard had expected Aramis to write down what he had to and not ask any questions. He was saved from having to come up with a response, however, by the Detective's being distracted by the cup of coffee in front of him. He watched, both surprised and somewhat amused at Aramis' reaction to the drink, allowing himself a brief smirk as the Detective closed his eyes.

As he opened them Richard was composed once more, a look of slight confusion on his face. He couldn't deny he was pleased when Aramis returned his attention to the business at hand, especially since the matter of the incident was taken care of. Now was time for the real plan to take action.

“Well, we can certainly look into this Mr. Plantagenet. I’ll just get your signature on this and it should all be taken care of.”

Plantagenet hastily replaced his look of confusion with one of comprehension, pulling a pen from the inside pocket of his coat and making to sign the document. As he did so he could not help but make a remark on the Detective's response to the coffee.

"Either you really needed a caffeine fix, Detective, or that's very good coffee."




ooc: I'm so sorry this took so long! D: I blame holiday homework.

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

Peter watched as the man signed his name on the report. Now that that was done with, he could just take it back to the station, file it correctly, and then he could get to real police work, like busting the gang bangers and such. Mostly, he just wanted to finish this coffee and get another to go.

"Either you really needed a caffeine fix, Detective, or that's very good coffee."

Peter glanced over at his companion and felt a bit sheepish for his distraction. He was supposed to be professional here. See, he passed the exams and he worked his way up because he knew what he was doing. His close rate was high, and his ability to relate to his young clients wasn’t matched by anyone else at the precinct. It was his tact that was lacking. He had no patience for the loops he was supposed to jump through.

“It’s a bit of both,” Peter admitted, tucking the papers away into the pocket of his coat. “I normally drink a lot, but this is exceptionally good.”

Oh God, was it ever. It had just the right hints of the beans being roasted and then kept sealed fresh until they were ground, only to be thrown right into the basket to be brewed – no paper filter, just a basket filter in the carafe. It made all the difference. Plus the water was hot, much hotter than most domestic pots would make it, but that was just how he liked it. If he wasn't careful, he was going to end up spending his entire life savings at the cafe. He wasn't sure how much the coffee was, but he was pretty sure that it was expensive.

He took another sip, practically melting into the chair. Oh, he was long over due for a cup of coffee. He glanced back over at his companion, thinking he should at least make conversation.

"I do hope things work out for you, Mr. Plantagenet. I know noisey neighbors make life difficult." he took another sip, knowing the cup was getting closer to empty than full. "How's your coffee? Any good?"

He hoped it was. The man looked like he could use something as wonderful as what he was currently consuming.

OOC: No worries, Nessie! It's called a vacation for a reason

[RICHARD PLANTAGENET]

“It’s a bit of both. I normally drink a lot, but this is exceptionally good.”

Richard nodded. It wasn't surprising, considering its expense, but he was not adverse to such expenses if it meant he could assure himself that no-one was investigating the circumstances of Edward Plantagenet's untimely death.

Pleased with the thought, Richard took a sip from his own cup. It was indeed exceptionally good.

"I do hope things work out for you, Mr. Plantagenet. I know noisey neighbors make life difficult."

They made life more difficult than the detective imagined, but it wasn't as though Richard was about to unravel his spur of the moment fabrication in order to elicit some sympathy from the detective. Instead he shrugged with his good arm and thanked Aramis for his concern.

"How's your coffee? Any good?"

"I cannot claim to be as expert in the field as yourself," Richard replied, with a small, self-deprecating chuckle. "But even I can tell that this coffee is very good indeed."

This said he drank some more, surprised at his enjoyment of it considering it wasn't something he'd ordinarily choose to partake of. There was a few moments pause in the conversation before Richard decided it was time to put into action the true business of this meeting.

"How is police life treating you, Detective?"




ooc: Again, sorry this took so long. Dissertations are to blame this time. ;__;

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

"I cannot claim to be as expert in the field as yourself, but even I can tell that this coffee is very good indeed," Richard chuckled a bit and Peter couldn’t help but grin.

“Oh, I wouldn’t say I was an expert, but I know what I like,” Peter replied, suspecting Plantagenet was the same way when he liked something. “And this? I like this very much.”

He paused to take another sip, leaning back in his chair, feeling a bit more relaxed now that he had officially done everything he was supposed to. Now, he was willing to sit back and enjoy the coffee. Plus, Don had been bugging him. Apparently when he met people like Richard Plantagenet, he needed to make an impression, and the better that impression, the better off he would be. It was how one cultivated relationships and made connections and so on and so forth. He stopped listening around that part because he honestly got the gist. So what would it hurt to drink the rest of his coffee and chit-chat with the man?

"How is police life treating you, Detective?"

...Clearly, Plantagenet had the same idea when it came to chit-chat.

“I can’t complain,” Peter shrugged easily.

He was good at being a detective, minus the tact. He made enough to feed himself, and he had a good group of friends and coworkers. He had nothing to complain about. But there was always that unsatisfied feeling in his gut that made him question it. He didn’t know what else he would do with his life, to be honest. He’d burned his bridges with God, and he was too young and impatient to go back to school. So he supposed the unsatisfied feeling was just one of his personality flaws. One of many. So he worked hard, played harder, and when he was too exhausted to move, the feeling finally left him alone.

“It’s the kind of life where you can say it’s worth it.”

He smirked a little, telling the man the honest truth. He’d done enough good things to make sure that was the case. And if he had to do a few more, he was still young.

“How about yourself? What keeps you busy these days?” He asked, knowing this was how things went when you had a conversation.