PFM snippet - mundane life #Laurent

*Maverick’s POV, (assumes you knocked Maxie out that one time, just for a single line, though)

** big thanks to my bestie for a speedy edit <3

Officer Rosier is the personification of an ice storm, especially today, as he glares his way out of the briefing room he was summoned to two hours before he was supposed to arrive.

For someone who used to show up at the HQ earlier than the doorman, it’s an abrupt, and noticeable, shift in character. He still comes on the dot, of course, but gone are the times of double-checking the workload from the day before while waiting for the Chief to make it.

Maverick used to think Officer Rosier couldn’t breathe without all the appliances being on and ready within five minutes of his arrival. It seems he doesn’t mind others doing the maintenance, after all... As long as they don’t make mistakes.

Then again, nobody hates a disruption in schedule more than Officer Rosier, and two hours is a long time. Maverick would know. (And for the record, he can’t control whether the bus will be late. Not that his superior cares about his excuses.)

If Officer Rosier’s mood can be described as foul on a good day, this morning it’s particularly thundery, to the point that even the most starstruck interns know better than to stare - openly or not - and keep their heads carefully low.

Not that Maverick didn’t feel a twisted kind of pleasure watching at least half of the rookies get over their crush on their superior within the first fifteen minutes of the lecture about their ‘collective incompetence’ that could ‘result in injury of agents AND bystanders.’ Whereas the other half...

Eh, the other half have it even worse now. There’s no account for taste. Maverick can’t relate.

He has to admit, though, that hearing Officer Rosier recite all two hundred and three regulations verbatim was impressive. It’s the possibility of being asked to finish the paragraphs that has his gut in a knot.

He’s not much of an erudite after a good night’s sleep, but now, half-awake and craving coffee more than air... Let’s just say he’s glad he can sign his name without misspelling it twice. Under different circumstances, he’d ask for a breather, but he’s not stupid enough to risk being forced to memorize the SPD codex for a meager cup of double espresso. He might be a coward, but— Well, that’s that.

Officer Rosier’s brows keep sliding lower and lower the longer he reads, and by the time he reaches the end of the report, Maverick’s holding his breath for so long he’s sure he’s going to faint.

He’s this close to calling Flavio, or hell, even Officer Kovalenkova, when Rosier’s face brightens like a cartoon puppet.

Maverick would never think to call Rosier anything other than harsh and reticent, but when his attitude shifts beyond the ‘neutral’ scale and dangerously into, uh, dopey, Maverick feels the need to check if the experimental brownies Rosaline offered him earlier weren’t spiked with something more than cinnamon.

Witnessing the abrupt reversal of Rosier’s demeanor has Maverick squeak out a very awkward sound. Luckily, his senior is too taken with the sight of the glass door opening - or rather, the person doing the opening - to spare even half an ear to Maverick’s blunder.

“[MC],” Laurent says when the newcomer enters. His voice comes out so soft it sends a shiver down Maverick’s spine.

Terrifying, is one way to describe it. And it gets worse when Rosier all but tosses the report into the trash can by the desk, before standing up, all smiles.

Maverick doesn’t have to look towards the entrance to know who’s here. He swears the side of his head throbs when [they’re] near, like an old man’s bones at a change of weather.

“You left your lunch on the counter,” [MC] informs, handing Officer Rosier a package of brown paper. It takes [them] a moment to notice Laurent’s not alone. “Oh, hi, Maxie.”

“It’s Maverick..." [They] know, of course, but Flavio has a way of rubbing off on people. Though, even he’s not brave enough to pester Officer Rosier with a nickname.

Still, what a perfect occasion to slip out of the office without provoking the wrath of the lion! Maverick would prefer if Laurent simply yelled, instead of staring with those icy eyes of his until one’s heart gives out.

Maverick wishes [MC] would have come an hour later to catch the culmination of the show. He wonders what [they’d] think of Rosier then.

Judging by the twin lovestruck expressions... he doubts it’d be anything negative.

“I am sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you,” Officer Rosier says, sickeningly sweet, as he takes the package off [MC]’s hands, remaining standing.

‘If he starts to twirl his thumbs, I’m going to pass out,’ Maverick thinks, quickly gathering all his loose papers and dashing towards the door.

“I need to fax this, sir, I’ll be right back,” he announces, without looking back. He only breathes out when the door is closed behind him, but just to be safe, he doesn’t stop until he’s out of sight.

“He let you out alive?” Rosaline exclaims when Maverick passes by her new office. She keeps her door open, even after the doppelgänger mishap. She’s never been big on safety. “Ah, the power of love,” she chuckles, wiping the leftover crumbs from her face.

“I vote to hand the Peace Prize to whoever gives me a break, whatever their motivations are,” Maverick sighs, his frown dissipating slightly when Rosaline mimes cheers with her empty cup. “Oh, please tell the interns to re-do the report if you can. I thought Officer Rosier would have a stroke.”

“That bad, huh?” she asks, already reaching for the phone. “They’ve been at it all night.”

Oh, for the love of— “I’ll help.” Better that than the alternative.

“Gotcha. Want some coffee while you wait?”

“Make that two. Thank you very much.”