The coffee is gone. The can of ground coffee beans is sorely empty. Jamie sniffs it woefully. Sunday is already looking pretty glum, not least because of the gray, windy scenery outside the window. And no coffee. Jamie rubs at her eyes. She doesn't remember using the last of the coffee. In fact, she's sure she didn't...
It's hardly a job for the Romance Detective, but then again, it certainly is a mystery. She sneaks back into her bedroom to dig out her outfit. Deerstalker cap, cape, and pipe firmly in place, Jamie feels almost like she can survive without the coffee. Almost.
Right, first order of business: is Jamie the only one affected, or has the miscreant been stealing other people's coffee grounds as well? She calls up Hazel.
"Jamie, whut?" Jamie thinks she does a good job of explaining herself succinctly, but Hazel sounds less than impressed. "Ohmgawd, Jame, go' sleep!" For all her sad lack of proper enunciation, Hazel sure manages to pack an awful lot of emphasis into those few words. Jamie checks the time. So maybe 7:30 on a Sunday isn't a good time to call her friends about mysteriously disappearing coffee.
Jamie McJack, Romance Detective and Now Also Savior of Kidnapped Coffee, reenters her kitchen. She studies the counter through her magnifying glass. There's a faint sprinkling of coffee next to the fridge. The intrepid detective dips her finger and tastes. Fresh. "Mysteriouser and mysteriouser," she mumbles.
On the floor there's a sandy footprint, still a little muddy. She glances out the window again. The street is wet. The thief must have come in while it was raining! Jamie feels pretty proud of herself.
The footprint leads her to the living room. The TV is showing cartoons, the sound turned down low. From the kitchen the sofa appears to be empty, but Jamie feels that heady sensation of a case rapidly unravelling. She sneaks up to the couch and peers over the back.
"Hah! Your hiding place has been discovered, you miserable coffee-nabber. Come quietly or be prepared to perish."
Erin's head whips up. She's been lying on the couch, clearly engrossed in Superman's onscreen adventure. Her eyes narrow into slits, and she gets her legs under herself, crouching in the cushion-y corner. "Well, well, Detective McJack. Congratulations. You've successfully managed to follow the trail I deliberately left for you. Now prepare to be defeated once and for all!" She has a really good maniacal laugh. Jamie is distantly impressed.
The Romance Detective jumps onto the rampart of the Evil Genius' hideaway. The clash of rapiers against the steel gray sky is terrifying, the battle short but gruesome. It is a sad day for justice as the intrepid detective falls into the crashing waves below the castle, with the victorious laughter of her enemy ringing in her ears...
"I brought you donuts," Erin says against her belly, her breath coming a little short, making a tiny warm damp patch on Jamie's PJ tank top. "And I did steal the last of your coffee, but only to make you some." She points -- a little limply, the ghost of the detective is pleased to note -- to the coffee table. There's a thermos, a box of donuts, and even a fruit plate.
Jamie sits up, forcing Erin to do the same. "You made me all this? You're the best---" Jamie hesitates. Erin glances up at her through her eyelashes. Jamie swallows. "The best... girlfriend?" Erin grins. Jamie thinks she sees a faint blush creep up among the freckles, but she's too busy grinning back to be sure.
Their fingers intertwine between them, and for a while they just sit like that, Jamie feeling her heart beating a heavy, steady rhythm against her ribcage. But coffee is calling.
Erin knows. "Wanna snuggle under the covers and watch cartoons?"
"Do I ever! Let me just get my blankets and pillow." Jamie gets up.
"Oh, and Jamie?" Erin fishes out the Romance Detective's pipe from between the cushions, settling it jauntily in the crook of her mouth and waggles her eyebrows. "Leave the outfit on."