It starts as a joke.
That's not what Eva would call it if asked. She is not good at jokes which is apparent by the way this one falls flat. If Eva had to call it anything, she'd call it a ruse. A clever diversion. Of course the second coffee is for Dr. Grace but she knows better than to give a man who just vomited twice and whose throat is probably scraped raw a hot, caffeinated liquid. She didn't expect him to react this intensely to the experience but she really should have. He's a civilian, not military. She needs to remember that going forward.
So she pulls the cups to her chest and says “I need both” expecting him to look at her weird. But he's not missing a beat, just smiles crookedly and waves it off and Eva thinks once again: ‘I'm not good at jokes.’
☕☕☕☕☕☕
“Here you go.”
Eva looks up and there are two coffees sitting on her desk. Dr. Grace sits down next to her, sipping at his own cup, already distracted by papers he was handed for review.
Two coffees. Black.
She opens her mouth to tell him she doesn't need both but snaps it shut when he glances over at her and grins. She lifts one to take a sip and pulls the other one closer to herself.
It can't hurt.
☕☕☕☕
It keeps happening.
Two coffees. On her desk, waiting in her office, shoved into her hands on the way to another mind numbing meeting.
It doesn't happen all the time. Only on especially stressful days or when she is barely able to keep her eyes open. She's unsure if Dr. Grace knows it's just a bit that doesn't need to be indulged all the time or if he is genuinely concerned about her caffeine intake.
He doesn't tell her. She doesn't ask.
☕☕☕☕☕☕
He doesn't bring her two coffees when he meets with her to tell her that he can't do it, that he doesn't have it in him.
She's glad. She doesn't deserve it.
If he had, he might have taken one of them and thrown it in her face.
(he wouldn't)
She would deserve it.
☕☕☕☕☕☕☕☕
She orders the technicians to reprogram the food distribution part of Mary and assign Dr. Grace Ilyukhina’s coffee ration. The Russian woman rarely drinks coffee anyway. She will just have to deal. Eva feels guilty for all of a second before she soothes her own conscience with the fact that Grace will definitely share his ration with the woman anyway if she really craves some caffeine.
He's good like that.
☕☕☕☕☕☕☕
The launch goes off without a hitch. The atmosphere is somber and quiet. There is no loud countdown, no champagne for everyone. Just whispers and a table with some snacks and coffee.
Eva pours herself two cups, just out of habit. Puts cream and sugar in one of them.
Habit, everything.
She stares, unmoving, at the two cups sitting on the table for so long a hand reaches past her to take one of them, probably thinking they are up for grabs for everyone. It's the cream and sugar one, the one she won't drink anyway. She could let them take it but instead she grabs both cups before the other hand can.
“I need both,” she says.
The person next to her makes a face. Like she is being weird.
Eva stares at her two cups of coffee and thinks: ‘I'm not good at jokes.’
