Day 49: Late Afternoon: Twin Pine Restaurant

[quarter_english]

If L was being shooed indoors out of the rain by his unwanted caretakers, then he wanted to be shooed somewhere useful. He had managed to glean some knowledge earlier -- not as much as he would have liked -- and was aware that the hour was advancing. As much as he wanted to escape from this predicament, time was always in short supply

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[vbyv]

Jim had been interesting. Yeah, fine, so an ice cream date in the middle of the afternoon wasn't what Faith normally had in mind when she was thinking about having a good time, but this place pretty much sucked and Faith was willing to take one pretty face over no pretty face.

Of course, it wasn't like there was a shortage of pretty faces here. More than enough, actually, she'd noticed and while that was sure as hell strange, it was nothing to complain about. It didn't matter that her main goal was getting out of here. Who said she couldn't multitask?

She'd tried to take another look around town, but the chick who was supposed to be her nurse (more like a goddamn babysitter, Christ; woman was worse than the Watchers) insisted she get inside. Whatever, it was just a little rain. Faith wasn't keen on being sopping wet, but she already was in that condition, so, y'know. What did it matter if she stayed out longer?

All that spray painting, though. Kinda made you wonder who tagged up the town. That smiley face meant something. It wasn't a coincidence their clothes at the institute carried the same symbol.

Jeez. This was turning into some grade-A conspiracy. Demons were so much easier.

Faith stepped inside the restaurant, swept her eyes over the place on instinct. Nice place, not extremely upscale, but you wouldn't expect rats to be running across the floors, neither.

Her gaze settled on some guy sitting alone, looked like he could use a beauty sleep or ten. Not that she blamed him. Local? Probably a patient like Jim, she doubted a local would pop into a restaurant without a friend or something. In any case, loners could be good to talk to. If she could get along with Angel, she could get along with any lone wolf type.

Besides, she'd find out what kinda guy he was easy enough. You shoved some cleavage in a man's face and you could tell a lot about him from his reaction.

She slid into the seat across from him without invitation. "You're not waiting for anyone, are you?"

[quarter_english]

A young woman walked into the restaurant as L sat at his table considering what to order. She was attractive; the way she moved suggested that she was well aware of it. She had been caught in the rain, like everyone else. He had not minded being wet, but it was a nice change, after a week, to be in a place where he stood a chance of receiving a cup of hot coffee.

He felt a flicker of surprise at her approach, but it passed. Of course. There is barely anyone else here, I am a man alone, and she... wants attention? Maybe.

She took the seat across from him and asked if he was waiting for someone. He tilted his head at a slight angle, fixing a cool, expressionless gaze on her face for a few beats before answering her in a tone that he knew to be on the flat side of polite. "No. Mm -- perhaps a waitress. Have you been here before?"

[vbyv]

The polite sort, then. Less awkward than the stuttering geek in the corner and maybe it was for the best, that she steered clear of any familiar bells. Faith hadn't talked much to Xander ever since Sunnydale. It was kind of hard to know what to say after that. Sorry I almost choked you to death in my bed, I was going through a rough time.

They didn't make Hallmark cards for that sort of stuff. Though they should. Maybe she and Angel could start a business, add a Guilty Conscience section right next to Belated Birthdays.

"Nope." She spun a menu towards herself and flipped it open. A drop of water splattered onto the pages. She was pretty hungry now that she thought about it. "First joyride here. Shitty weather for an intro to town, I'll tell you that." Behind her, she could hear someone else enter the restaurant. She glanced up at the guy. "What about you?"

[quarter_english]

"No, I haven't been here before." He frowned and pressed the side of his chin against his knee.

His gaze flickered towards the door when someone came in; he noted that it was neither Howell nor Lunge, although the face was vaguely familiar, as were the faces of most of his fellow detainees. It was good to know that Lunge was on his feet, but the extent of whatever damage had been done to him remained to be seen. Since reading his message, L had not been able to find him in town. He would find him on the buses, if he could.

This woman in front of him, though... who was she? He turned his attention back to her almost as quickly as it had wavered. Working-class language, not unfriendly. She had been here less than a week, if she was telling the truth, and he suspected that she had no particular reason to lie. More than that, she seemed as if her greatest concern at the moment was the rain.

"I'm afraid that I missed last week's excitement." There was no regret in his voice. "You are prepared for some kind of repetition of it, Miss...?"

[vbyv]

"Faith," she replied without missing a beat. "Just Faith, the whole 'miss' thing doesn't suit me."

The waitress finally came over, and thank God for coffee. She'd only been here a couple days, but man, even prison had given her the benefits of caffeine. Crap caffeine that occasionally melted her stomach lining, but still.

But the food was way better here. And hey, even a field trip. Trade offs.

She peered at him and tilted her head. "Excitement, huh. What kind of excitement are we talking about?"

Like, hallucination in the hallway kind of excitement? 'Cause she'd prefer to avoid that if she could. Something she could kill on the other hand...maybe she wouldn't mind that as much.

This guy obviously knew something, though, and suddenly she was much more interested in him than she'd been before.

[quarter_english]

L added a check mark to his mental tally: his impression of Faith, so far, was correct. But the waitress arrived before he had the chance to address it, and so he inclined his head to Faith, briefly.

At the next moment, he was distracted by hot coffee, which was something he had been missing all week. His first reaction was to deepen his breathing, savoring the scent.

Using only the ends of his fingertips, he slid two paper packets of sugar out of the holder, then tore twin strips off of one end and emptied the packets into his coffee. It was an efficient, practiced gesture, and he repeated it. Afterward, he swirled the bowl of the spoon around in the mug.

Still stirring, he raised his gaze back to her face, and replied, "The other patients claim to have fought a large number of zombies last week. The townspeople... who don't seem to remember much... and other people, who should have been dead." He lifted the spoon from the mug and set it on the paper napkin. "It was suggested to me earlier that the 'vandalism' here is a cover for the damage."

He paused, then raised his mug to take a sip; his lashes fluttered as the hot, sweet coffee filled his mouth. As he lowered the mug, his flat gaze returned to her face.

"I have heard some concern that there will be a repetition of last week's events. I think it's unlikely. A number of unfortunate things seem to happen here, but they rarely seem to happen in the same way twice."

That left unspoken words in the air between them: nothing reassuring. He doubted that the patients would again be attacked by the putative undead, but didn't rule out almost any other kind of mishap.

"What did you make of last night's... radio show?"

[vbyv]

Faith cocked an eyebrow. "Sounds like a fun night."

Zombies, seriously. Sure, a few people had been reanimated when some guy got his hands on a musty book and decided to screw around with some candles and hand-waving, but the whole zombie apocalypse thing, yeah, no. She didn't even want to think about the kind of power it would take to raise the dead all over the place.

Besides, no way in hell this town should still be standing if that'd been the case. Acts of vandalism, yeah right. The vandalism looked like the work of some kids with a baseball bat, a can of spray paint, and a shitload of boredom, not a horde of the walking dead. The sun had only conked out for a few days in L.A., and the damage there...well, it wasn't her job to do the cleanup. She'd just been called in to make sure there was something left in the first place to clean up.

She shrugged a shoulder. "I was busy seeing things and falling on my ass. Missed the fireworks." Should she keep at the zombies or the radio? Well, zombies she could just ask someone later. Seemed as though it was one of those things a lot of people knew about. "Fill me in?"