.pizza night. [Misha/Open]

[FELICITY JANE HAYES]

Smoke and mirrors have done her in
Looks like you made up your mind

The refrigerator hummed stoically as Felicity stared inside it, wishing for something appetizing to appear. When her wish remained unfulfilled, she shut the door and moved on to the cabinets, opening and shutting the wooden doors as she moved around the kitchen. The space was tiny and she quickly found herself without anywhere else to look. Her blue eyes wandered back to the fridge, but she knew nothing new could have found its way since her last look. A magnet, one of several left behind by the former occupant, encouraged her to call Jimmy's Pizza. Maybe that was just what she needed, to get out of the house, eat something dripping with grease. A closer inspection revealed the pizza to be farther than Felicity felt like going, but the idea of pizza had been planted in her mind.

A quick Google search revealed a pizzeria not too far away. Misha's Pizzeria, in fact. The name sounded a little too Russian to be attached to a pizza joint, but hey, New York was the great melting pot, right? Before heading out the door, Felicity put her thick hair back in a ponytail to keep it off her neck. Summer in the city could be brutal.

* * * * *

Misha's Pizzeria turned out to be small but pleasant. Most of the tables were filled, but the counter didn't look too busy. In fact, there weren't even any employees manning it. Felicity expected the tinkle of the bell above the door to call someone in, but the counter was still empty when she reached it. Her equally empty stomach growled, mirroring her feelings about the lack of service.

"Hey, anybody here? I don't have to wait here, you know. I can go to any number of other pizza places."

Well, she could. The smell of pizza emanating from every corner had already ensured that she would stay until her desire for cheese and dough had been fulfilled. Her stomach growled once more to drive that point home.

[GERARD MISHA MERRITT]

Misha was having another quiet day at the pizzeria. Not too many employees were around, again. He didn't see the point of making them stay if there wasn't any work to be done. Some of them stayed, anyways, usually the college kids working on wages who needed an extra buck or two. Misha was accommodating of those kids, and he'd usually give them a free slice of pizza to take home or something. He ran a business, yeah, but that didn't mean that a slice of that combo that no one had wanted couldn't go packed up in an employee's pocket (or, rather, a bag. Misha did not condone putting a piece of greasy pizza in one's pocket, even if his pizza wasn't the heaviest on the grease scale).

It wasn't exactly selfless, he had to admit. The pizza that he gave away was the combos that had failed miserably. It was that or the garbage, and most of the people just decided to eat the pizza. He wasn't judging, he'd do the same if he was in their position. Any pizza was good pizza, in Misha's books.

The customers that were at the pizzeria weren't making too much noise, to the owner's relief. Some days, he could barely hear himself thinking out loud because of the clamor of a few dozen hungry New Yorkers. It didn't help that usually the radio was turned on loudly so Misha could sing without any of his subordinates feeling embarrassed for him. Misha didn't care that some people scoffed at his attempts (and dance moves) to mimic Lady Gaga, but apparently to some of the older people who didn't have a sense of humor (or good music taste, for that matter, he thought indignantly), he was the world's most embarrassing boss. He thought the work environment was fine, thank you very much, but having a cat in the dining part of the pizzera and a boss who danced to the radio was too weird for some people.

Misha thought of it as a Dar-LOSE situation, evolution of the weirdest. He'd survive longer than them because he could psych potential thugs/serial killers out and make them decide that he wasn't a good target. It was one of the reasons he thrived in New York (and also a reason that he didn't take the subway at night).

The bell tinkled, and Misha glanced up from the alcove he was in where he was trying to mess with the WiFi a little. A dark-haired woman was standing in the door. Domino the cat immediately bounded down and started purring, rubbing himself against her legs. Misha grinned a little; he had been trying to train Domino to do that for months. Customer service win!

"I hear hunger," he stated, pushing his swivel chair out of the alcove and behind the register with a straight face. "You could go to another pizzeria, but our pizza is so much more fantastic than theirs, you don't even know. It's like Picard over Kirk." Misha had to have his sci-fi references, no matter what. The walls were plastered with posters for a reason. "First time here? I'm Misha! I'm the owner, as you can tell because I named the place after me. I mean, I guess technically it could have been named after a significant other or something, and it's sort of egotistical to name it after me, but here we are." he shrugged a little, putting his hands on the register.

"So, what will it be?"

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words; 602
muse; forcing it a bit
outfit; stop wars t-shirt, jeans, apron
credits; zie @ CAUTION!
lyrics by fun.!

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[FELICITY JANE HAYES]

Smoke and mirrors have done her in

Something furry curled around Felicity's shins, making her start. The fur was attached to a cat, and a very friendly one at that. For the moment, Felicity forgot about pizza and squatted down to hold her hand out to the animal. The cat sniffed her fingers before headbutting her hand to demand pets. Smiling, Felicity obliged. She never could resist an animal that wanted her attention. The cat's engine-like purrs made Felicity remember her plans to get a pet of her own. She kept putting it off, always thinking of new reasons why it wouldn't be practical, but she could never banish the idea from her mind.

"Who's a gorgeous kitty?" she cooed, in the kind of baby talk only animals could elicit. "You're such a good . . . kitty." Identifying cat genders wasn't on her list of skills.

"I hear hunger."

Felicity stood up quickly, brushing cat fur from her hands. Hopefully he hadn't also heard her talking to a cat. She was about to complain about the wait, which hadn't really been that long, but the man who suddenly appeared at the counter kept babbling on. Picard? Her brain connected the name with sci-fi, but she couldn't place it for sure. "Yeah, I'm not really a Star Wars fan," she said dismissively, oblivious to the Start Trek poster on the wall. It seemed she had the privilege of being served by the owner himself. Well, she wasn't impressed. Felicity thought he looked a bit scruffy, though maybe that was just an effect of the apron.

At this point Felicity realized that Misha was looking at her, waiting for an answer. He must have asked for her order somewhere in all that talk. "Um, two slices pepperoni--no, actually, green pepper." She looked up and down the counter, still devoid of any customers. "I guess you don't need a name for the order."

Looks like you made up your mind

[GERARD MISHA MERRITT]

If it was one thing that Misha could do, it definitely wasn't people reading. However, he could usually tell something about people who liked cats, and if cats liked them back, it was probably a good sign. Domino was definitely going a bit crazy trying to get his customer to pet him, and even if the cat was affectionate to most anyone who entered the pizzeria (there were a few bad instances, but Misha tried to repress those), that meant that whoever the woman was couldn't possibly be too terrible of a person. He didn't usually find it upon himself to start judging people based on their love or dislike of different animals and the animals' feelings back at them, but here he was.

Misha froze for a second at the woman calling his Star Trek reference a Star Wars reference. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe Domino was wrong. He didn't usually judge people on their knowledge of sci-fi, but he swore, even a freshman dropout out of MIT knew the difference between the two sci-fi works, and Misha was (almost) a junior at Caltech. One of them was a series of movies, and the other was a television series that spawned multiple new series and movies, even to this day.

"I know people who would hire snipers if they heard that someone mixed up Star Trek and Star Wars," he said, shaking his head slightly. "Or even worse, commandeer some piece of equipment from the Caltech labs-" he cut off that particular thought, shuddering slightly. "Don't screw with the IT department at Caltech."

Yes, Misha had been a bit too involved in some of the pranks that Caltech had. Yes, he didn't regret one instance of them. Even if he had realized that it wasn't his calling in life as much as the creation of food was, Caltech had been fun. He had met a lot of cool people there, gone to a few Comic Cons, hacked a few too many systems for the government's liking- but he liked to think that those days were all (somewhat) behind him.

He called her order back to the kitchens, and glanced up. "May be unnecessary, but I still like names," he said, grinning a bit. "Makes business run a bit smoother, y'know? Many people respond to their names instead of 'random customer'." he pressed a few keys and rung her up, telling her how much it would be. Domino jumped up on the register, leaning half-off the marble to headbutt at her hands some more.

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words; 439
muse; Misha and his sci-fi...
outfit; stop wars t-shirt, jeans, apron
credits; zie @ CAUTION!
lyrics by fun.!

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[FELICITY JANE HAYES]

Smoke and mirrors have done her in

For the first time since she entered, Felicity bothered to read what was on the multitude of posters around her. The names of the most popular sci-fi movies and TV shows were plastered everywhere, as well as some she didn't recognize. She had assumed Star Wars would be a safe bet, but apparently it was the worst thing she could have said. Hell hath no fury like a nerd scorned. Felicity should know; she'd been one long enough. Of course, her nerd cred had taken a hit with this little slip-up.

"I mostly read . . ." she muttered, trying to save some face. It shouldn't have mattered to her how the random pizza guy viewed her, but he was looking at her like she just punted his cat across the room. Maybe it was time to change the subject. "Caltech? You went to Caltech?" Her first boyfriend had ended up there with a big scholarship. Well, her only boyfriend. Well, she called him her boyfriend. In reality, it was a two-date fiasco that ended when she realized he had no idea they were dating. Apparently, he thought she wanted to be study partners. It was not a passionate relationship. "That's a long way from New York. And it's a helluva long way from owning a pizza place." Felicity knew it was rude, but she couldn't stop herself from commenting on it. It wasn't like the world had an overflow of geniuses; a Caltech degree must be in high demand.

She began to rethink her assessment of Misha. So he made pizzas for a living, but he was smart enough to get into a college that produced more than a few Nobel Prize winners. "My name's Felicity," she said, slightly awestruck. Her mind buzzing with questions, she collected money from her purse. As she reached over to pay, the cat appeared on the counter and tried to intercept her hand. Once her hand was free, she began to rub the cat's ears. "I bet this one doesn't like responding to 'random cat' either. What's his name?" Felicity paused. "It is a he, right?"

Looks like you made up your mind

[GERARD MISHA MERRITT]

Misha shook his head, but smiled a bit. He wasn't particularly mortally offended, persay, but it was still a major issue if someone didn't understand the differences between Star Wars and Star Trek. He would take the high route and not hold it against his opinions of her and not tell anything to his more hardcore friends who would indeed hire a sniper. Of course, it wouldn't be a sniper as much as someone who was good at Call of Duty, and Misha didn't really know any of those people. He played occasionally, but he disliked violence. First person shooters and the like were saved for days where he was pissed at the world, and Misha didn't have too many of those, really.

She asked him if he went to Caltech and any tension that was there and he didn't notice melted away as he nodded happily. "I was a junior before I left. It was good times, but not the place for me." the pizza-man explained. He had enjoyed Caltech and its challenges very much, he had loved the pranks and the environment, but ultimately, his goals and the college's goals for him were very different. He liked to think of it in relationship terms as a "mutual separation". That dredged up a few more painful memories of legitimate relationships, and Misha quickly wiped his mind of that particular subject.

He shrugged a little. "I suppose. New York always held appeal for me, mixing pot, y'know? I made a fresh start, and some pizza." he grinned a little, gesturing to the shop. His eyes caught on the computer that he had left working in the corner, and a small sigh escaped his lips. "Old habits die harder than Bruce Willis, though." Misha snorted at his movie-title pun, before he pointed to his computer. "I still do some IT work and other... stuff..." he trailed off, suddenly aware of the fact of the illegality of what he did on his computer, and that even for Misha, it wasn't a good topic to start with people.

Misha rung her up, fingers working at the machine precisely. One of the keys jammed, and he cringed at the soft crunch he heard. It was an older register, but he luckily had invested in another one if this one broke in the near future. "Felicity, huh? Nice name. He's Domino, like the much inferior to my own pizza place." he laughed at that for a few seconds before looking up again, handing her her change. "Well, Felicity, your food will be up in, like, five minutes."

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words; 446
muse; - - -
outfit; stop wars t-shirt, jeans, apron
credits; zie @ CAUTION!
lyrics by fun.!

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[FELICITY JANE HAYES]

Smoke and mirrors have done her in

Felicity nodded her head sympathetically as if she understood wanting to drop out, but really it mystified her. As long as she could remember, she had known the path her life would take. Grow up, go to college, get a job, start a family; there was never any other option. Dropping out or running off to see the world were things other people did. Honestly, Felicity liked where she was. Routine was comforting and security made her happy. But her life story would never captivate anyone.

She leaned a bit to catch a glimpse of the glowing computer screen. It was too far away for her to see what Misha was working on, but she probably wouldn't have understood it anyway. One summer she had signed up for a programming class at her local community center, but found it utterly confusing. Her mind just couldn't make the connection between the coding and what she wanted to happen. She finished the class through sheer stubbornness and promptly forgot anything she learned.

"Pizza and IT? That actually sounds like a brilliant business idea. Your customers can eat pizza while their computers are being fixed. They're happy and occupied, you don't have them hovering over your shoulder while you work . . ." The last sentence brought a frown to Felicity's face. Her day at work had been rough. The editors were dealing with an influx of submissions, mostly bad, which them cranky. And when the editors were unhappy, everyone was unhappy. And when everyone was unhappy, the interns suffered.

Lost in her thoughts, she stopped petting Domino. He was clearly not pleased with this and began to rub up against her still hand. Smiling, she scratched under his chin. Something about cats had always appealed to her, especially since she was never allowed to have one, as her family favored dogs. The cynical part of her thought that scooping a litter box or cleaning a hairball of the carpet would soon change her opinion; another reason she had yet to actually obtain a pet. "Actually, I like Domino's." She grinned cheekily at Misha as she took her change. "Of course, I haven't had your much superior pizza yet."

Looks like you made up your mind

[GERARD MISHA MERRITT]

Misha hadn't actually known that he had wanted to drop out until he had just had a spark of realization and literally stood up and walked out of a test. He had gotten some weird looks, but Misha was used to that (if he wasn't used to it, he just ignored it very well), and as long as he was doing what he legitimately enjoyed, he was happy. Pizza happened to be the sudden calling that he had, and true to what his mother had instilled into him, he followed it. It was like any other big decision of Misha's life; it happened in a few seconds but once he made the decision, he never once regretted it. He still got to spend time with computers, that never changed, but he didn't have the added stress of doing work with computers for someone. Pizza was his (much beloved) job, while electronics were fun (that also put some extra cash under his belt).

Felicity leaned over and looked at his computer, and Misha had to physically restrain himself from screeching shrilly and running over to the computer to shut the lid. He didn't think that she'd be able to tell what he was actually doing, or that even if she did that she would do something about it, but he wasn't known for doing the most legal (or even morally decent) things on computers. It wasn't as if he was pirating- pirating was a no-no, even if it did tempt him into writing ASCII images of parrots- but hacking into some kid's World of Warcraft account and stealing all of his gold? Misha had to say, that was jail worthy.

He nodded, smiling as she complimented his business, but then cocked his head as a dark expression clouded her face. It didn't look as though she was particularly happy about her experiences with "hovering over shoulders". Misha frowned himself, wondering if he micromanaged his employees. He didn't think so, unless they were making special pizza (and by special, Misha meant revenge pizza or birthday pizza). Even then, they were totally allowed to go spend quarters on the karaoke bar if they so chose to. "Bad day at work?" he asked sympathetically.

He shook his head, grinning a bit at her statement. "That's what they all say. 'Oh, Domino's isn't that bad, Misha, what are you talking about?'" he mimicked in a falsetto, using air-quotes. "But then, they eat my pizza, and they never go back." Misha nodded solemnly, dropping his hands to tap out a quick rhythm on the register.

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words; 437
muse; Sorry this was so late!
outfit; stop wars t-shirt, jeans, apron
credits; zie @ CAUTION!
lyrics by fun.!

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[FELICITY JANE HAYES]

Smoke and mirrors have done her in

Normally, Felicity was not one to share details of her life with strangers. She felt like they hadn't earned the right the know. So when Misha inquired about her day, she was indignant at first. He was just the pizza guy, she had only met him ten minutes ago! However, their conversation had gone better than most of her interactions. Misha had offered up much more of his life than how work was going. And honestly, there's was no one else to listen.

"My supervisor is a bitch. I mean, everyone thinks she's annoying, but I just can't stand her. And I can't do anything about it because she could get me fired. I can't get fired, though; I've got this whole plan and . . . I thought it would be easier." Felicity took a breath. She'd said much more than she intended, but she couldn't stop herself from saying more. "I never really had to work at anything before, but it's going to be years before I get close to the position I want." She heaved a sigh and felt strangely better. Clearly she needed to unload like this more often. "I guess it's too much to hope you're a pizzaman-slash-IT guy-slash-therapist, huh?" She gave a weak laugh. Maybe she should start a diary or a blog to save Misha from having to listen to her.

Domino caught her eye. Or get a cat, she mused. Her thoughts went to the pet store she sometimes passed on the way home from work. There were always kittens playing in the window. Maybe this weekend . . .

She smiled as Misha talked about his rival. "Well, I can tell you I've never been able to whine about my life to the guys at Domino's." Felicity knew she probably wouldn't buy pizza from anywhere else from now on, and she hadn't even tasted the pizza yet. "So, I guess if you want to complain about something now, I have to listen," she said before being distracted by a new smell. It seemed like her pizza was close to being in her hands, and then her stomach. She kept one eye out for it as she returned to her conversation with Misha.

Looks like you made up your mind

[GERARD MISHA MERRITT]

Misha was much more casual with his interactions with people. If they would listen to him, he would gladly talk to them, and if they wanted to talk, too, that was okay. He liked meeting people, he liked knowing things about people- and not even in a manipulative way, Misha just liked being able to ask people how their wife was doing or if they needed a few bucks to go buy themselves a cup of coffee. He tended to avoid people with dogs, but that really wasn't personal. Misha was a cat person. He liked cats, and dogs were annoying creatures that freaked him out. He wasn't discriminating against the person, he would just prefer to not have a dog getting fur and slobber all over him (not that Domino didn't get fur and cat drool all over him).

Misha leaned his arms on the counter, watching Felicity's face tense up when he asked about her day and then relax a little. She seemed like a closed-off type of person, which was why he was happily surprised when she didn't tell him that it was none of his business, instead telling him why she was having a bad day. He nodded slowly, lips quirking sympathetically. He had days where his IT work had people who did the same sort of thing, and when he didn't strictly need the money from the jobs that he did, it was still nice to not get taken off of it and to get the extra money so he could buy new freezers, new posters, things to brighten up the shop and his apartment a little. "That sucks. Yeah, I remember Caltech, it was one of the few times that I was ever challenged with my computers. Keep at it, I'm sure you'll do well! You seem like a do-well person. Positions are figurative, as long as you're getting to where you want to be." he gave her a bright smile, hoping to cheer her up a little about her situation. "I could be a therapist. Pizza for the soul."

The pizza would only be a few more minutes, Misha could smell it. His sense of smell was uncanny, probably from his years and years of baking and cooking, and he counted it as a good thing. "Their customer service is awful," he agreed, shaking hair out of his eyes. "But nope, excepting competition, I don't have too much to complain about. I mean, I wish the third season of Sherlock would come out soon, but I can't do much about that." Misha tried not to focus on that which he couldn't change. His mom always told him that it was the number way to get the most amount of stress in the shortest period of time, and Misha didn't like stress. No one did, really, he thought. It kept him (figuratively) sane, though.

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___________________________________________________[/color]

words; 490
muse; - - -
outfit; stop wars t-shirt, jeans, apron.
credits; zie @ CAUTION!
lyrics by fun.!

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