Sunday Evening Prep; Running out of time!

Dinner with Eric and Mosche was about as painful as you had expected. Ordering the pizza was, in fact, the easiest part of the whole thing. Mosche asked to change his order fifteen minutes after you had made it. Eric complained about how long it was taking and that you shouldn’t tip the delivery driver - that got Sabrina into giving him a lecture on Tipping Culture and the unfortunate fact that it should never have become a thing but it was and so opting out of tipping people in traditionally tipped jobs like food delivery drivers and waiters wasn’t making some big statement, it was just hurting people.

When the pizza finally got there Eric didn’t have cash, and Mosche tried to talk to the delivery driver about how he got his order wrong and was wondering if he could change it - you thanked the driver and shut the door before Mosche could continue his rambling.

Then, with the files sorted and stacked off to the side of the table, you all sat down to eat.

And Mosche knocked a stack of files onto the floor by accident. And then got greasy fingers on them when he tried to help clean them up. He was not helping himself in the eyes of your girlfriends.

Once the files were mostly rescued, and everything had been moved out of the potential blast zone, you all settled in to eat. While it wasn’t as awkward as that breakfast with Becks and Iris, it wasn’t great either. You tried to keep the conversation going, pivoting it from work to college starting up again soon and the four of you heading back to classes, asking which ones they had picked. You’d already been over that stuff with Sabrina and Gemma before since you’d talked about it earlier in the summer when you had to pick them through the online portals for your schools, but it felt like a safe topic.

That was when Eric asked about what Mosche did, though, and it came out that Mosche was trying to be a standup comic. You still weren’t entirely sure how Mosche afforded to live in the apartment with the very small amount of money he made doing standup at the comedy clubs.

Of course, Eric immediately suggested that Mosche should make a podcast. Morche thought that sounded like a great idea, but he didn’t know where to start. Eric went on for a bit about the different stuff he would need and seemed like he had actually been putting a lot of research into the backend stuff of what a podcast would actually need, but then it came around to the fact that Mosche would probably need to have a cohost since, ‘No offence, you’re not a Joe Rogan.’

Then Mosche asked Eric if he wanted to be the cohost, and you were struck with the horror of what if Mosche and Eric actually became best friends and created some terrifying media empire by falling ass-backwards into everything and mostly just getting lucky. The immense level of destruction the two of them could cause to younger generations!

Eric, however, was going back to school to finish his bachelor’s and was unavailable. Then Mosche turned to you hopefully, and you had to say the same.

Post-dinner it took longer than you, Gemma or Sabrina would have liked for Mosche to give you guys space, and you eventually needed to move on from the usual social niceties of mentioning how you all needed to get back to work and move on to, “Alright, Mosche. Thanks for joining us for dinner, but we’ve got a lot of shit to do. Can you give us the table back?”

Thankfully he took that in stride, and the four of you were able to get back to work.

“OK,” Eric said, rubbing his eyes and then blinking rapidly as he set down the last folder in front of him. “My brain feels like mush. We’ve got the opener, we’ve got the parts of the closer we can use, and we’ve got all the middle bits. Are we done? Are we ready?”

“I think we’re ready,” Sabrina said. “All my lists are finished, and I can’t think of anything else to do.”

“Gemma?” you asked.

She sighed. “I probably want to go through the opening statement a couple more times tonight,” She said.

“OK,” you nodded. “I can’t think of anything else we can prep. So unless you guys want to look at doing another read-through from the top, we can call it here and try and get some good sleep.”

“I just wish we knew who we were facing off with tomorrow,” Sabrina grumbled. “Do some research on them and find out if they’re, like, secretly State debate champs or some bullshit.”

“Wouldn’t matter,” you said. “We’re going to kick their asses either way.”

“Damn straight,” Eric nodded. “Positive outlook. Manifest the outcome. We’ve worked hard, now we get to enjoy the easy win.”

“OK, I like the attitude, but maybe don’t start cashing checks we don’t have yet,” Gemma cautioned.

Then Sabrina groaned and leaned forward, pressing her forehead to the table.

“What is it?” you asked, immediately concerned.

She sat back up and sighed. “What if this whole thing has just been a teaching moment and there isn’t a mock trial at all and tomorrow we go in and Garrison is just like ‘Your client has fired you. This is what the law is like. Time to pick up and get back to work.’”

“Oh, that would be just evil,” you said.

“OK, everyone pray that doesn’t happen,” Eric sighed. “And get some good sleep tonight.”

You all packed things up neatly, ready to carry all your notes to the office and on to wherever you were actually doing the (hopefully real) mock trial in the morning. Eric left, leaving just you and the girls since Mosche was holed up in his room.

“Mmm,” Sabrina hummed, coming from the table to the apartment door where you were closing and locking it. She took your hands and raised them up to her shoulders and you squeezed them softly. “If we’re going to get some good sleep, I think you have some tension that needs releasing.”

“Or, maybe not,” Gemma said, coming up behind Sabrina and hugging her, resting her chin on the brunette’s shoulder and your fingers. “We have a big day tomorrow, we had a very satisfying morning… maybe we should treat this like a ‘big game’ and no sex tonight.”

“That’s an awful idea,” Sabrina sighed.

“Would you rather be super wide awake and full of energy tomorrow morning, or still a little tired because we stayed up too late?” Gemma asked.

You groaned, sliding your hands from Sabrina’s shoulder and wrapping your fingers around Gemma’s twin blonde braids. “You sure, love?” you asked.

She groaned right back, smirking and rolling her eyes.

“That’s not a yes,” Sabrina grinned, looking into your eyes.

“It’s a yes,” Gemma said, pulling away. “Seriously, no sex tonight you guys.”

The three of you grabbed the files and started heading to your bedroom to get ready for bed.

“What about morning sex?” Sabrina asked. “That always wakes us up.”

“Not the point, Sabrina,” Gemma sighed.

“I mean, it’s kind of my point,” you said.

Sabrina snorted and Gemma groaned at the painful pun.

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