Work Text:
Outside Auggie Anderson’s cramped Langley tech cave, September Virginia heat presses down like a damp blanket. Inside, the AC hums aggressively. Annie Walker perches awkwardly on the edge of Auggie’s overloaded desk, clutching a pint carton. The fluorescent glare catches the absurdity: ice cream sculpted into a cartoonish feline face, chocolate-chip ears perked up. Auggie’s head tilts, a faint smile playing on his lips as he catches the familiar blend of cocoa and sweetness drifting through the sterile air.
"Chocolate and marshmallows... s'mores?" he guesses, leaning forward slightly.
Annie scrapes her spoon against the frozen surface. "Rocky Road," she corrects, her voice light. She scoops a generous bite – aiming for the cat’s "cheek" – and winces sharply, dropping the spoon onto the desk with a clatter. "Ow!"
Auggie’s brow furrows instantly. "Ow?" His tone shifts from playful to concerned handler in a heartbeat. "What happened?"
"Stupid sensitive tooth," Annie mutters, rubbing her jaw gingerly. She glares at the offending ice cream cat as if it personally attacked her. "Bit down wrong on an almond shard."
A relieved chuckle escapes Auggie. "Ah. Well, relax. We’ve got an excellent dental plan. Top tier. Covers everything short of dragon bites."
Annie picks up her spoon again, prodding the ice cream cautiously. "Which I will use," she declares firmly, "when I’m absolutely sure something’s properly wrong." She scoops a safer, smaller bite near the cat’s "tail," avoiding the treacherous almonds. "Not rushing into anything. Learned that lesson."
Her eyes flicker towards the hallway where Joan Campbell’s office looms – a silent reference to past impulsive missteps. Auggie leans back in his chair, the leather creaking softly. He taps his fingers rhythmically on his Braille display.
"Ah," he murmurs, a knowing smirk spreading. "So. A yellow-belly masochist."
Annie nearly chokes on her ice cream. "What?" she sputters, indignation flaring. "I am not yellow-bellied!" She gestures emphatically with her spoon, forgetting he can't see it. "It’s strategic caution! Like avoiding that venomous snake Michael accidentally smuggled in last month!" Her voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. "Remember? He thought it was a fancy belt. Pure yellow-belly material, that guy."
Auggie throws his head back and laughs, the sound warm and filling the small space. Annie grins, her tooth momentarily forgotten, and digs back into her melting cat dessert, the Langley tension momentarily dissolved by ice cream and easy camaraderie.