(Untitled)

[mr_gaeta]

"I can't. I'm sorry," says Gaeta when the napkin appears at his elbow, right next to the pages he's been filling with neatly-penned notes. "Not tonight."

Don't give me that, buster. You and I both need a break, reads the next napkin -- and before Gaeta can protest further, Bar snatches up his notebook. It vanishes into thin air as she adds, You'll

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[mr_gaeta]

"That's all right, ma'am," he reassures her. "Just give me one minute."

At least coffee's not too hard to frak up. He fetches a canister advertising itself as THE FINEST COFFEE ON GAMMA-6!, measures out a few scoops into the nearby coffee machine, and sets it to percolating.

(A few of the settings available on this particular coffee machine: Extra-Crispy, Airplane Swill, and Molten Lava. Gaeta hopes the "Tasting Faintly of Artificial Hazlenut" setting will turn out something decent.)

As he waits for it to finish, he eyes Elle, thinking. "I'm sorry," he says at last. "I know we've met, but I can't remember your name."

[mr_gaeta]

"Felix Gaeta. Pleasure."

The eyeing doesn't entirely stop, especially when a few more memories drift back to the surface.

Gaeta might not remember her name, but he remembers what she can do.

[mr_gaeta]

"Sorry," he says, quick enough that it's practically automatic. A slight hesitation follows.

Then: "You're, ah...the woman who can generate electricity. Right?"

[mr_gaeta]

To his credit, Gaeta doesn't take a step back...though he does straighten, and keeps a close watch on the sphere as he opens his mouth to --

Ding!

-- be interrupted by the coffee maker before he can so much as get a word out, apparently.

Quickly, he grabs a mug, pours the steaming coffee (if nothing else, it smells pretty good), and sets it on the bar. "There you are, ma'am," he says.

[mr_gaeta]

Damn. Without thinking, Gaeta clasps his hands behind his back.

"Would you like me to make another one?"

Even with the nuances in her tone...it's polite to ask, just to be certain.

[mr_gaeta]

"...All right."

Gaeta's answering look, while far more mild, strongly suggests that the feeling's mutual.

"Is there anything else I can get for you?"

[mr_gaeta]

Okay, well, good to know artificial hazelnut coffee isn't a bust after all. Gaeta nods in wordless acknowledgment and picks up the coffee pot, refilling the mug directly this time.

What he's also remembering, as he thinks back through the haze of memory: the electricity's a genetic trait. They'd spoken about it at length. Funny how he'd been so fascinated by that at the time.

(Or not funny at all, really.)

"So, ah. How have you been?" he asks, for lack of much else to say.

[mr_gaeta]

Gaeta looks taken aback. He sounds it, too. "No."

Even if the question was mostly out of politeness, he's not asking because he's the bartender. He's asking because she's an acquaintance.