Cafe Fina, Saturday evening, dinner for the Santos party

[walter-n-wires.livejournal.com]

Walter was ready for more customers. Hopefully less creepy ones than the man he had served earlier.

	Nadia led the way into Cafe Fina, keeping an eye out for Walter or Alfred. She half turned to face her . . . father? Possibly. "This is one of my favorite places in town. I hope you like it."
	Sloane looked around approvingly. "Very nice." he said, instinctively looking for all possible entrances and exits.
	Walter appeared looking just a tad less composed than usual. "Good evening Nadia, sir. Your table is waiting." On the table was a plate with bistec pequeño con salsa chimichurri and opposite it a plate with pan roasted Alaskan halibut with tarragon potato purée, asparagus, and Nicoise olive vinaigrette. "If this will suffice, may I bring you both drinks?"
	Arvin looked at Walter, impressed. "Thank you Mr..."
	Nadia smiled. "Thanks, Walter, it looks great, as usual. This is . . ." What the hell should she call him?
	"Arvin Sloane." he introduced himself. "Pleased to meet you Walter."
	"Good evening, Mr. Sloane. If there is anything else you require, I will be here immediately." He smiled slightly at Nadia and nodded. "I will return directly with your water."
	Sloane was surprised slightly. He managed to restrain himself from remarking that they hadn't actually ordered their drinks yet. After all, they hadn't needed to actually order the food. He pulled a chair out for Nadia, then sat himself, facing the front door.
	Nadia smiled at Walter, even as she worried slightly. He was looking a bit less . . . spiffy than usual. Once he'd left the table, Nadia sat down and turned back to Sloane. "You said, um, yesterday, who my mother was? Can you tell me more about her?"
	"Irina." he said, sighing. "I'm afraid she has as checkered a past as I do." He took a deep breath. "Irina was a Russian Black ops Agent, who was assigned to...influence a CIA operative. A friend of mine. Before we discovered her true identity I...she and I had an affair."
	An affair? That would explain her having a sibling . . . . "Do you know . . . why she didn't keep me?"
	Walter returned with a pitcher of water and two glasses, which he filled without fuss, promptly disappearing into another part of the restaurant.
	"That's where it gets even more convoluted complicated." he said. "And where my MUN's knowledge of the details get less clear." He looked off into the distance for a moment. "It's my belief, that you were taken from your mother, by the Russian government for their research. I believe she kept tabs on you, but that she was unable to stop them from taking you."
	Nadia shook her head. "Is she coming here, too?"
	He doubted it. "I don't know. Your mother has always been...elusive. A boon in her line of work. I don't know where she is right now."
	But she was still alive. . . . That was a good sign. "I still don't understand. What did those men want with me? In Russia?"
	And the web just keeps getting woven. "Nadia have you ever heard of a man named Rambaldi?"
	Nadia stiffened. "Si,"
	"What do you know about him?"
	This was getting far too personal, and Walter noticed that Wadsworth was gravitating closer to Nadia's table. He grabbed the other man and moved him to the far side of the restaurant on the pretext of a table that needed physical repair. How peculiar that the leg was so neatly sliced... That wouldn't keep Walter from being nearby when needed, however.
	Arvin supressed a smirk, at the actions of the waiters. Walter clearly was the better of the two at the surreptitious observing.
	Nadia was looking down at her plate, and thus didn't notice Walter and Wadsworth. "Not much. I just remember the name. He was Italian, I think?"
	"Milo Rambaldi was a 15th century visionary. His bling works included among other things, messages written in binary code. But he also had a gift for prophecy and many people, including myself once upon a time, were very obsessed with finding all of his creations, because they believed that the final product, would change the world." He took a deep breath. "You, were part of that plan. Or at least there were those that believed you were."
	Walter was doing the best job of surreptitious eavesdropping he could. Which included not dropping a tray of glasses when he heard that name. What on earth did this man, the German earlier, and Nadia have in common?
	"Something wrong, young one?" Alfred said, appearing out of nowhere to steady Walter's tray with one hand. If he had heard what Sloane said or understood it at all, he didn't give any indication of doing so.
	"No, sir." Walter didn't bother offering an excuse, instead continuing to the sidebar to unload the glasses. Rambaldi?
	Nadia shut her eyes. This had to have something to do with that "chosen one" thing from when Angel was dying. The question was, did she want to know? Yes. She did. "But why me?"
	"It was believed that you were a direct link to Rambaldi. That somehow he would be able to speak through you. The russians were attempting to fulfill that prophecy."
	Speak through . . . Oh crap, the Italian after the robot attack. "What did they think I--he would say?"
	"They hoped you would be able to lead them to the final Rambaldi artifact. To tell them his endgame."
	Nadia shook her head, still tense. "That's ridiculous. I don't . . . I was just a little girl! How was I supposed to know that?"
	He was walking dangerous ground now, but that was nothing new. Everything he told her took the chance of altering his own future. "I don't pretend to understand all of it myself. But there was a formula, created by Rambaldi himself, that, acted like a mind altering substance, that was supposed to open you up to, to Rambaldi's spirit perhaps. Or knowledge somehow bred into you."
	Nadia thought of the green fluid and shuddered. "At least . . . at least that's all over, now."
	"Yes." he said. "And it seems like you've made a good life for yourself here." He nodded towards Walter. "Made friends. Friends you can trust."
	Nadia looked towards Walter as well and smiled. "Yeah. I have. Almost like . . . I've made a family."
	"I'm glad." he said. "After all you've been through, you deserve all the happiness you can get."
	Nadia smiled at Sloane. "Thanks." She stood. "I'm going to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back." She headed over to the bathrooms with a another quick smile at Walter. She had a father!
	Alfred watched Nadia leave for the bathroom and took the chance to approach the table. "Is everything alright, sir?" he asked.
	"Yes everythings fine." Arvin said, turning. "Thank you Mr..."
	"Pennyworth," Alfred said. "Alfred Pennyworth."
	*Well I'll be damned.* "Pleasure to meet you Mr. Pennyworth." he said. "Arvin Sloane. Is this your establishment?"
	"Yes it is," Alfred responded. "From your reaction, I take it you have heard of me?"
	He hadn't meant to react at all. Alfred was clearly every bit as good as his reputation in that area at least. "I have Mr. Pennyworth. It's a pleasure to meet the man behind the stories."
	"They still tell stories about me, do they?" Alfred asked, still standing. "They've probably become so exaggerated since I left that I would scarcely recognized all the things that I did."
	"The nature of stories of course." Arvin said. "That's half the point of telling them."
	Alfred smiled a litte. "True enough, Mr. Sloane. True enough. Tell me, are they still telling the one about the nuclear weapon and the druidic cult in Singapore?"
	"It's now an entire arsenal and you dropped the leader into a vat of toxic waste." Arvin smirked. "Some have even said it was some mystical substance designed to raise a demon." Or possibly some kind of elixer meant to bring eternal life
	"Well, it was only one nuclear weapon. And I never dropped him into anything. I shot him and he accidently fell into the vat." He leaned in confidentially. "It was a mystical substance designed to raise a demon, though."
	"There was a time when I would have discounted that rumor." Arvin said. "But these days I try to keep a much more open mind."
	Alfred smiled. "My days of closemindedness left me a long time ago, I'm afraid. Funny, isn't it. We start with open minds, then we learn to close them off as we grow into adults, then finally start to learn to open them again." He shook his head nostalgically.
	"Sometimes though," Arvin said. "It takes something of a shock to the system to start the opening process."
	"For me, I would most certainly say it was that time with corpse. Which, by the way, also taught me that they aren't dead until you've killed them, cut off their heads, dismembered their bodies, burnt them, and scattered their ashes to the winds."
	"Mine wasn't quite so dramatic." Sloane said sadly. "And possibly much more personal." his wife had miscarried their child, and, dissillusioned with his life, had sought out another way. a way that was revealed to him through Rambaldi's works.
	"Well, to each his own," Alfred said. "Am I correct in hearing that you are Miss Santos' father? Not that I was eavesdropping but, well, after so many years, the habit is rather hard to break."
	"You are correct." he said. Among other things he'd heard, he'd heard that if there was ever a man to trust with that kind of information, it was Alfred Pennyworth. He gave the man a calm, if calculating smile.
	Alfred smiled. For all purposes, a genuine, sincere smile. "Wonderful, I had thought her an orphan. How did you come to find her?"
	"I still have many contacts." Arvin explained. "But it wasn't easy. It's taken me a long time."
	Alfred nodded. "But finding a long lost child is, of course, more than worth it."
	"It is indeed." Arvin said sincerely, looking looking in the direction Nadia had gone. It had taken violating his pardon agreement which he'd only brokered so he could get his hands on the info he needed to find Nadia in the first place to find her, and make peace with her. "It's worth much more than anything else."
	"More than any treasure of Rambaldi?" Alfred asked, staring off towards the bathrooms.
	Sloane's smile was wry, self deprecating, and the kind of genuine smile he reserved only for those who had his utmost respect. "As a matter of fact, absolutely. Would that the stories of my exploits were 'exagerated'."
	"Someday, they might be. Who knows how history will cast you." He glanced towards Sloane. "I'm glad you believe that. You would do well to remembe that you said that, I think. A piece of advice from the man they tell all the stories about."
	"I appreciate it." Arvin said. "I remind myself every day." like an aa pledge
	"Good," Alfred said, staring off into the distance. "Do that. Remind yourself how lucky you are that you have a family." He turned back to Sloane and smiled a litte. "That's not a luxury many in our business have."
	Nadia returned from the bathroom and was rather surprised to see Sloane and Alfred chatting. It seemed like a friendly conversation, too. She grinned. She had a family. Her family had come to find her and now he was here, and she didn't have to be the stupid orphan kid from Argentina again. She was not changing her last name, though. Santos was a much better name than Sloane.

[ooc: preplayed by nadiathesaint, rambaldifan815, walter_n_wires, and badassbutler. No IC interaction available, but OOC comments are welcome.]