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[wanders in and orders a small latte]

*Looking up, Death waves.*

Hello, Doctor.

[blinks at her] Ah, hello, Death.

((This may be slow, I desperately need to lie down for a bit.))

[trust me, no issue here. :) Milliways has threads that have lasted a month.]

You remember me, then. It's good. Some have a tendency to readily forget.

We've met enough times that I can remember you fairly well. [slightly sardonic smile] And you know that those of us from Gallifrey have good memories at times when others don't.

~~And by those of us, I mean just me and my unresolved issues about making my whole planet disappear.~~

*Her expression softens, slightly, but there's still a smile there.*

Oh, I understand. You're holding up well, regardless - you always seem to pull through just right. I'm not merciful for you as much as merely convenient, I am beginning to believe.

*A pause, as Death takes in the surroundings.*

Could I buy you a drink, perhaps?

My last incarnation had a bit more difficulty--the Gallifrey/Dalek...incident was still quite fresh in his mind. I've had a bit of time to work past it. ~~And TARDIS!Rose making all the Daleks goboom helped.~~ I think this body's a bit more balanced in the neurochemistry department.

[corner of his mouth quirks] Usually I'd say yes, but tonight I do have obligations. [sips latte]

Oh?

*Death takes a quick sip of her coffee.*

May I be so bold as to ask what's going on?

You were always jealous regarding those you've claimed so intimately...
I have a date.

Don't be silly. I'm glad for that. Live to the fullest.

*She means it, too - this would most likely be because the times she fully, 100% tried it? Life wasn't so bad.*

There's a difference, see, between possessive and jealous. If, for example, you started going utterly ape all of a sudden, I would have Words with Del, since you're one of mine. I would not, however, have any issue with the two of you talking.

[laughs without rancor] She stopped by one of my classes last week. That was...interesting. And I'm glad to know I have some immunity against going mad.

Del? She's really quite a sweetheart. And if our eldest brother says you've got to go mad, we can't go on and argue about it, but it's not something that's likely. And I'm sort of protective of mine, anyhow.

*Here is that smile that openly states Death Is Watching You. And it's the kind of watching that usually makes one feel safe.*

[is only slightly unnerved] Oh. [wonders if we are all the Endless' pets]

*Yes. Well. Almost everyone is. Some aren't quite so lucky, depending on who you ask.*

Don't worry about it.

I'll try. It's not as if I don't have enough on my mind.

[looks around] I'm concerned about some of the students.

With nothing better to do, Angela has found herself in the coffee shop. The pale young woman in the dark hat seems oddly familiar.

*She would be. But not too familliar - remembering being born is sometimes a hard thing to do. She knows Angela, though, and is glad to.*

Miss Chase. Hello.

Angela is briefly sartled, then comforted by the cadence of Death's voice.

"Hi. I... I don't know what to say to you, but, um ... hello."

People have found me hard to talk to. Sometimes I wonder why, until I remember that once you've heard my name is Death, it makes many uncomfortable at the start.

*There's never a frown upon the face of the second Endless, however. She's consistently welcoming.*

Angela shakes her head. "I don't think I'm afraid of you. I mean, I don't want to die for a long time, but ... it's not that."

"It's more that anything I could say would probably seem really stupid to you. That's just really intimidating."

*Death clicks her tongue, almost-but-not-quite laughing.*

Don't be silly. Not much seems stupid to me. I like listening to people.

Angela has the wild impulse to sya the stupidest thing she can think of, "Why is there air?" or "Why do we drive on parkways and park on driveways?"

She doesn't.

"What's it like?," she asks instead. "To watch so many people just pass by you, while you ... stay the same?"

Sometimes it's sad. Sometimes it isn't. There are those who never really leave me - I have some of my own, and I know, often, where they are and what they do. Some of them are here. Some not.

*Death, clearly, is not Lady Decisive.*

You get used to it. And when those you love so dear move on, you're happy for them.

Taking one last, deep drag from her cigarette, Shane snuffs it out in a nearby ashcan. Pulling her cell from her pocket, she glances at the time as she opens the door and steps inside. Just enough time for some coffee. Stuffing her cell back into the pocket of her denim jacket, she takes her sunglasses off as she approaches the counter and surveys the menu for a moment.

"Hi, uhh... could I get two... of whatever's strongest... and can I have it filled in a -- tall cup, half-way?" She says, holding out her flattened hands to represent the cup and then the half-way point. The barrista gives her a put-upon glare but busies himself fixing her coffee. "Thanks, man," she says, offering him a broad smile.

Miss McCutcheon,

*Death says rather calmly, watching the entrance of the girl, unsure if her addressing people by name is so unsettling - she doesn't mean it to be, but has heard it can - or if it's all right, generally, but does so anyhow,*

easily, you would only need the one cup for that coffee if you wished it filled all the way. Or are you sharing?

*turns at the sound of her name and, rather than looking unsettled, she looks curious - a small, slightly flirty smile curling her lips*

I would, if I knew who I'd be sharing it with...

I could not tell you if you had someone in mind.

*She's smiling, though.*

But if you were looking for my name, it's just Death.

*The smile remains on her face and turns into a bit of a grin.* I just got here, so... nobody to have in mind... yet.

*The barrista sets her order up on the counter and she pulls a crumpled ten out of her pocket to pay.* "Thank you," she says, flashing him a winning smile.

*approaches Death's table, giving her that same curious look* May I join you?

*She wrinkles her nose a little.*

Of course. I'm always glad to have company, really. It has been quite a while since we've seen each other.

*She shrugs off her pack and places it by a chair, dropping into a seat across from her. Perturbed creases form between her brows as she looks at Death.* You know me from somewhere?

*gives her a thoughtful up and down look, biting her bottom lip* I would definitely remember you...

Yes. I'm Death. I've known and loved you your entire life - seeing as I've been there. I was there, rather. Every time someone is born, I'm there.

*Death explains this often. She'd hope that it would become slowly more obvious, but there are few who recognize her as fast as she knows them.*

Every birth and every death, and sometimes, like now, in between. I like to stop for a chat every now and again.

*both elbows resting on the table, she mulls over the whole concept, nodding, lips pursed thoughtfully... after a moment, a small smile curls her lips as she rests her head on her hand* That's pretty intense...

*takes a sip of her espresso* So you love everybody... does anybody ever love you? *arches her eyebrow*

No.

*There's a pause, here. She's got to think, apparently. A bit.*

Well, I suppose it depends on your definition. My siblings love me. Those who are morbidly inclined think they may love me, and some do - others make the mistake of dying on purpose, which isn't always a very good idea.

*She shakes her head a little. Death, maybe oddly, is not fond of suicide.*

But I love everyone unconditionally.

*chews on her bottom lip, nodding* I don't wanna die... um, no offense, or anything. You seem like a really nice person.

But... yeah... *lowers her hand and picks at the frayed denim ringing a hole in the elbow of her right sleeve* I know what you mean.

I am not at all bothered. Nobody should really want to, it's not something that most mortals embrace. I do it every now and then myself - every thousand years, although I don't ever change the way I look, unlike others I know. I just die, sometimes, to know what it's like. Take a body, live a day, and die again.

*A sip of her coffee, and the smile returns.*

Not about me, though. We should talk about you. I remember your birth, but that's it.

*lets out a slightly bashful, but also slightly uneasy chuckle* Well... what d'you wanna know? I mean... there's not really much to tell... *shrugs a little*

It's never that there isn't much to tell, just that most people don't find the simple things about themselves worth discussing.

*Death laughs, too.*

The little things are the most interesting things, if you have them. Like hobbies. And if you could be with only three people stranded on a desert islad, who would they be. Those sorts. I do like that question, hypothetically.

*smiles broadly, her laugh wholehearted now* Uhh, I don't know... I don't... I don't have hobbies. I have women... I guess... maybe they're my hobby.

And three people...? *reaches up and rubs at her bottom lip, appearing lost in thought* My mom, my brother and... my girlfriend, I guess. If I ever find one...

Maybe - can you call people a hobby? You're fond of sex, then. It's not a problem.

There are many people in this area you may be able to find love with. Or just sex. I suppose it depends.

I dunno... maybe you can? It's not work... I... enjoy people. I guess. *shrugs*

Either...? Both...? I don't know. Guess it depends on who I meet. *grins*

It depends on many things, I'm sure.

*She's not saying what.

It's possible she doesn't know.*

*nods slowly in agreement* Absolutely. Things just fall into place when they do, right... *shrugs and takes another sip of her espresso*

Being able to read the future, for sure and for certain, is said to be unpleasant. My brother grows stressful, at times.

*offers her a sympathetic look* Sorry... that sucks.

Smith walks out of the back office and heads over to the counter to tell Hank something. She spots Death and the blood immediately drains from her face, followed by an angry flush. She stomps over to Death's table and tells her in a low, angry voice:

"Leave this place and never return. My husband and I know you far too well and you are not. welcome."

::confused by Mrs. Smith's reaction to a customer, Hank walks over::

Mrs. Smith? This is Miss Death, she's the counselor at the school.

Without taking her eyes off Death, Smith hisses at Hank:

"I know what it is and it's --

"Did you just say that this... thing works at the school? It's in charge of children?!"

*Her eyes narrow slightly as she glances from one woman to the other. She's never been a big fan of causing drama, much less getting caught in the middle of other people's. She digs her phone out of her pocket and checks the LCD.*

Um... sorry, I... I need to return a call. I'll just... let you guys...

*stands up and pushes her chair back up to the table, giving Death a gentlemanly nod as she leaves*

*Death gives Shane a quick nod.

And then looks narrowly at the proprietor.*

Please, I'm not an it. I'm definitely very much a 'she,' fond to remain that way - but if you insist, I will find somewhere else to drink my coffee from now on, ma'am.

*Brusquely, she picks up her hat, places it back on her head, and curls her coat around her shoulders.*