G e n e v i e v e H a r p e r
Pressing the piston into the beaker, the coffee grounds gently sank to the bottom. Genevieve watched with a small smile of melancholy on her dusted lips. She drew in a deep sigh of a breath and exhaled as she admired the French coffee press. Her fingers tapped gently on the counter top and counted the seconds with a string of precision at each touch. With a sudden amount of gusto, her wrist lifted and touched the top of the beaker, and with her other hand, she grabbed hold of the press and poured a the coffee into a milk white ceramic mug.
Her smile gingerly widened as the cup was brought two-handedly to her lips. She drew in a whiff of the coffee and took a small sip. Genevieve closed her eyes as the warmth touched her lips and the taste resonated in her mouth. For several seconds she stood in a hazy, silent admiration, and as if a switch had been pulled, her smile faded into a solemn seriousness, interrupted by a you-know-who who asked her to immediately
find Brigadier General Amelia Remington.
And, just like that, Genevieve had work to do. She was off to the races. She was playing catch-up and back-up, again. This was nothing unusual as it was part of her upbringing. Coffee almost always came first in many manners, which showed itself to be an inconvenient measure at times, but the truth perpetually stood that there is no such thing as a perfect anecdote.
Genevieve took another sip from the mug. I really ought to run.
The desire to deliver her message was present. It swished in her coffee mug as she walked charily around the quarters, trying to sense where the Brig. General was. One - Two - Three - Four...
The tip of her tongue, warm with coffee tapped against the roof of her mouth as she counted inaudibly to twenty. Ready or not...
Her dark eyes looked around the facility, as she took took yet another sip from her mug. It was almost empty, and the caffeine was starting to push her to better obedience. Her hand lifted and the mug pushed against her lips as she took the last bit of coffee. Here I come...
Decidedly beginning to walk with a swifter pace, which eventually developed into a jog and then a run, she continued to let intuition lead her to... Oh -- oh my. Is that Brigadier General Amelia Remington's voice? Genevieve turned into the Training Room to find that two others were already there:
“Yes, I have one...”
“Any questions, Majors? Then you may begin.”
She asked in between a quick breather. A smug, half smile was on her face, as she looked at the other two. The empty coffee mug in her hand was slightly tilted, facing towards them. Her eyes looked back at the Gen. Brigadier and her smile faded, showing a more sobering visage. “What was that, again?”