Chapter Text
Celestine likes to bring Artem coffee every once in a while.
It’s mostly for the little things. She notices when he’s too busy to leave his office for a break, or when he’s come in just a little too early, or when he’s working on a particularly frustrating case. On such occasions, she tends to bring him a cup of black coffee, the way he usually makes it.
So when she enters his office with a large caramel macchiato and a tin of homemade cookies, Artem is instantly suspicious. He thinks back to the past couple of weeks, but he can’t pinpoint anything of note that might lead to a certain Celestine Taylor bringing him coffee and homemade cookies.
“Good morning,” Artem begins warily.
“Morning to you, too.” She sets down the cookie tin on his desk and drags a chair over so she can sit across him. “I brought you coffee.”
“I noticed.”
Celestine hands the paper cup to him, opens the tin, and selects a cookie for herself. “Chocolate chip for me.” She slides the tin toward him. “Oatmeal raisin for you.”
Artem finishes the sentence he was typing and lowers his laptop screen. “Thank you. That’s… unusually kind.” He doesn’t say anything more. Instead, he sips at his coffee, spins in his office chair, and simply waits for her to explode.
Half a minute passes.
“So,” Celestine begins, and Artem sips his coffee again to hide a triumphant smile.
“So?” Artem repeats innocently.
“Artem. Friend. Pal. Buddy of mine,” she says, waving her hand. “Have you ever worked in the food industry, by any chance?”
Artem twirls in his office chair again and lets her simmer for a bit. It’s not often when he gets to tease her, and he is going to embrace the opportunity with open arms. “No.”
Celestine practically lights up. “Oh, perfect.”
Perfect was not quite the answer he had expected from her. He arches a brow. “I sense a request approaching?”
“And a request you shall have.” Celestine bites into her cookie, chews slowly, and Artem knows she is deliberately making him wait.
Celestine finishes her cookie and dusts off her hands. “Pax is hosting a cooking competition next week. It’ll be a pretty large event.”
“Mhm.” He had not heard of this competition, but he quickly files it away in his mind.
Celestine helps herself to another cookie, and Artem begins to wonder exactly who she brought the cookies for.
“It’ll be televised, too,” Celestine explains. “And here’s the interesting thing: all of the contestants cannot have worked in the food industry. Ever.” She pauses. “I think they’re mostly looking for business representatives to compete.”
Artem frowns slightly. What was the point in having a cooking competition if none of the contestants were supposed to have any experience in the food industry?
“Why should I be interested in this?” Artem asks. Maybe one of the contestants had run into legal trouble? Or perhaps Pax needed help with something, since they were hosting the competition. Already, he is searching through the folders in his head for knowledge that might apply to the situation—
“I want you to compete with me.”
A beat passes.
“What?” Artem stops spinning from side to side, and the office chair slows to a halt. “You’re — I’m — we’re lawyers.” Suddenly the coffee and the cookies make sense, but this is still ridiculous.
Him and Celestine? In a cooking competition? Artem can barely imagine it.
Celestine shrugs. “And I just happen to know that you’re a brilliant cook.” She points at him when she says the word you’re.
Artem lets that sink in for a moment and presses his fingers to his temple, shaking his head. “You’re serious about this.”
She gives him a look. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Artem mirrors her expression. Knowing Celestine, there had to be an ulterior motive somewhere. She wouldn’t be interested in such an event — let alone compete in it — unless there was something she knew that he didn’t.
“Okay,” Artem says. “Spit it out. Why are you doing this?”
Celestine inspects her fingers for leftover crumbs before fishing her phone from her pocket. She taps on the screen several times before handing it to him.
Artem stares at the social media post in front of him.
@official_baldr_legal: “Baldr will be participating in Pax’s Cutthroat Culinary Supreme! Will Themis?”
The attached photo depicts Howard Syter smirking as he stabs a kitchen knife into a sheet of paper held up by William Lewis. From the angle the photo was taken, it is very clear that Themis Law Firm’s logo is printed on the damaged sheet.
“That’s horribly unprofessional,” Artem says.
“Agreed.” Celestine nods. She leans forward. “But should we really be letting this slide?”
Artem shrugs and returns the phone to her. “Syter and Lewis are likely to be joining the competition for purely publicity purposes.”
“Fair enough.” Celestine scrolls down the post. “Still, there are quite a number of people commenting on how Baldr seems to be more… fun.”
Artem almost laughs. “We are not fun,” he says. “We’re good . There’s a difference.”
“And you’re right,” Celestine says, nodding again to acknowledge his point. “But when the ordinary citizen of Stellis is in need of legal aid, who are they going to think of first? Baldr, or Themis?”
The social media post flashes in his mind again. After a moment, Artem sighs. “I see what you mean.”
A grin spreads across Celestine’s face. “So…?” She waggles her eyebrows.
“This isn’t worth one caramel macchiato and a tin of oatmeal raisin cookies.”
“How about two caramel macchiatos?”
Artem can’t help it; he laughs at her attempt to bargain with him. “Maybe. But why me?”
She gives him a pointed look, like, isn’t it obvious? “Best friend privileges. And I’m not about to ask your work partner; you know how she is with a kitchen, bless her soul.” Artem reflects on your cooking skills and figures that Celestine has another point.
“Come on, we’ve been challenged.” Celestine meets his gaze and tilts her chin upward. “Defend our law firm’s honor.”
Still silent, Artem leans back in his seat and picks up the caramel macchiato. He takes another sip, and the coffee tastes like bribery and cajolery.
If he closes his eyes, he can picture his future. Artem Wing: youngest senior attorney, soon to be broadcasted on national television on a cooking competition, of all things.
Celestine glances at her watch, then tilts her head to one side. “Have a think about it, okay?” Rising from her seat, she shuts the cookie tin, leaves it on his desk, and begins to head out. “I’ll bring you that second macchiato tomorrow.”
“Okay,” Artem says.
He can’t care less about showing up Baldr Legal Office; he’s perfectly happy to do that in the courtroom. That’s where all the victories are won — in a professional setting, the place where he is most comfortable.
But this clearly matters to Celestine. Themis is her law firm, after all.
And as Artem lifts his computer screen and begins typing again, he already knows he is going to say yes.