fandomtownies | Café Fina, Monday

Rosalind was not best pleased at having to live in the cabins--she missed, for all that it had been one night so far--the peace and quiet of the room Scully and her shared.

Nor was she particularly fond of the sort of food that was to be found at campfires. She'd eat it, of course, as wasting food wasn't something that she'd ever do but there was no need for that at the moment. Not when it was an easy walk into town to find a place that--

Served food she might actually enjoy. She pushed the door open and considered the sign for a long moment. Should she stay? The specials hardly sounded... appealing.

Edited 2010-05-24 21:00 (UTC)

Of course she should stay!

"Hiya!"

The serving staff was so completely friendly!

"Welcome to Café Fina! Would you like a table or a booth?"

That much friendly lobbed in her direction was much like a hammer hitting a wall.

It was nothing like the way her mind seized up and whimpered about impossibilities when she realized just who had greeted her. Rosalind's back stiffened, her eyes widened, and her face lost a small bit of the colour it had managed to regain while being on the island.

Way to discomfit a Turk, Zack. Just by being yourself.

... Words. She should use them. "Table," Rosalind said abruptly, then relented. "Please."

"Table it is!" Zack gave her a weird look for a moment at the abrupt reply, but in the end, his tendency to glee at people always won out. "By a window? It would be a shame to waste such a nice day by sitting next to a wall or something, right? I'm Zack, by the way, and I'll be serving you today!"

Lucky Rosalind!

"... I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that you want a menu."

"I know," she said, before she thought better of it.

... Crap. Rosalind nodded rather than panic. If she carried on like nothing was out of the ordinary then... nothing would be out of the ordinary. "By a window," she said, carefully controlled as she tried to figure out when he was from. He didn't know her, that was a clue. Zack was not the sort to pretend he didn't know someone. The scar on his face meant Angeal's death had happened.

Check the class lists, Reno had said. Rosalind was regretting now that she hadn't done that. "A menu would be helpful," Rosalind replied mildly. "I am Rosalind."

"Good to meet you, Rosalind," Zack said, continuing to give her his brightest smile. "You're new here this term, aren't you? I'm sure I would have met you by now, otherwise."

He reached for a menu from a nearby countertop before nodding toward the dining room and making his way toward a window seat.

"How are you liking the island so far, Rosalind?"

She followed him, even while Rosalind seriously gave thought to leaving. Finding Reno. Shaking him.

"It's unusual," she said, very dryly. "And yes, I'm new."

Hadn't she at least been listening to the radio on Friday night? Reno would be very disappointed in her for missing his evening in the limelight!

"You kinda get used to the weirdness," Zack decided, stopping at a sunny table and pulling a seat out for her. "Mostly. Some of it is kinda really weird, like timelines and animal transformations. Even if being a puppy isn't all that bad, I guess."

Of course she listened to radio. Rosalind simply hadn't cared much about some girl--who Reno called Rookie--and her boyfriend.

She settled herself gracefully in her seat. "Thank you," Rosalind said, with a slight nod of her head.

And found herself at a loss for things to say. Could she tell Zack who she was? Did he already know and was simply not mentioning it--she was wearing her uniform, after all--but that was a bit... subtle for him, Rosalind thought.

...

"You were a puppy? Literally." Her lips twitched despite herself.

"Literally," Zack agreed, rubbing the back of his head somewhat sheepishly. "Twice."

And he'd been stupidly adorable both times, so there.

"Deadpool took care of me once, and Elena took care of me the other time." A pause. A meaningful sort of look at her uniform. Zack was a puppy, but he wasn't stupid. "Do you know Elena?"

To lie or not to lie? Subterfuge would not carry her far, she suspected, not if he knew Elena. Reno had known. Her sister had known.

Rosalind was going to get a headache as she kept her face neutral rather than irritated at the both of them.

"I know her," she said, with a glance out the window. Almost longingly, before she looked back at Zack steadily. "She's my sister."

"Oh, yeah?" Zack was smiling as he went right ahead and pulled out the seat opposite to her so that he could make himself comfortable. There was no way this could possibly be surprising, really, was there? "Then I guess the question is, is she your Elena, or is the island messing with everyone's heads again?"

Of course it was! Zack just had no idea how much.

It really was not.

Rosalind settled back in her chair. Aloof and collected. "She's not my Elena," Rosalind said, though saying that felt like a betrayal of sorts. "Elena is only nine back home."

"Oh, wow," Zack replied, blinking at her at that. "So you're from closer to when I'm from, or something, I guess? I never really did figure out how far ahead Elena is from. Just that she... well... is."

It didn't help that nobody would tell him.

"When are you from?" she asked curiously. "I was unaware that you were on the island."

Hmph.

"When?" Zack blinked, and then gave her a sheepish little smile. "I don't know you... yet? You seem like you know me, if you're concerned about that. I've just been promoted to 1st. About two months ago, now, actually. If that means anything?"

"Hm."

... Sorry Zack, but she was another Turk that wasn't going to tell you much.

Rosalind offered him a tiny smile. "We'll be working together, in your future."

That much, she thought, was safe enough. She did know him.

"Well, that's not much of a surprise," Zack decided, smiling faintly. "It's starting to feel like the Turks have more use for me than SOLDIER does, considering all of the missions I run with Tseng."

You know. All two, so far.

Her lips twitched into the barest of smiles.

"Turks have few difficulties when it comes to deciding who would be most effective at a given job."

"Well, that's what they do, right?" Zack smiled and wriggled a little in his seat. Talking about work with someone who actually did the job was kind of exciting, dang it! He hadn't touched on it in forever.

... Months. Ish. Almost.

"I think Tseng just brings me along because I can smash things better than he can."

More or less, yes.

He was wriggling. Rosalind carefully didn't sigh. Like a puppy indeed.

"That is a possibility," she noted, humour hidden in her eyes. "Your particular skills don't overlap much with our primary abilities."

They could fight, sure. But that wasn't what Turks were best at.

And don't expect Zack to do anything even remotely stealthily. It can't ever possibly end well.

"Right!"

And that was why Zack was working in a swanky dining establishment on a small island in the middle of nowhere!

"Which makes Turks and SOLDIER into a pretty amazing team, when you get right down to it. All you really have to do is point me in the right direction, and I'll be your cover for as long as you need a distraction!"

That was... well.

"You're remarkably cheerful about that."

"What, about doing my job?"

Zack blinked, and then he shrugged it off.

"It's what I'm made for."

To some extent, literally.

"Hmmm," was her reply. Wasn't that glorious, Zack? Rosalind studied him thoughtfully. "Have you been here long?"

"Long?" Zack tilted his head, thinking on that one, yes. "A year now, actually. I guess I was sent here in an attempt to make a more well-rounded SOLDIER out of me, or something."

And now he was here because it conveniently kept him out of the way, he supposed.

Somehow, he managed to keep from frowning at the thought.

An eyebrow arched. "By attending high school?"

Zack shrugged. "I was fifteen at the time. It kinda made sense."

How was that for a more accurate idea as to when he came from, Rosalind?

"School isn't really getting in the way of anything, anyhow. I feed myself and all of that, and there are other benefits to me being here. You have seen the course lists, right? They didn't exactly send me here to learn algebra."

"Algebra would make more sense." That was absolutely wasn't a sulk, Zack. Totally your imagination.

But it was quite lovely to get an age. Assuming his age wasn't messed up like Elena and Reno's.

"Just the course load appeals to you?" Fishing for information.

"Well, there's a bunch of stuff, I guess," Zack admitted, maybe blushing a little and looking at the tabletop for a moment, why? "I'm one of the leaders of the military reserve group that meets on Tuesdays every week here, for starters. You'd be amazed what people have to offer at that sort of thing. And I swing by the magic group sometimes, too, even though most magic works way different than materia does."

Which was weird, but he'd managed to get used to it, why?

"And sometimes I get to train under teachers who have experience in my line of work, too. Deadpool and Professor Skywalker and... Well, I haven't really trained under Lady Ghanima, but she and Professor Durden were running the Fight Club in town, and that was always interesting, too."

Apparently, fishing for information from Zack was not unlike shooting fish in a barrel.

"What does the reserve do?" Rosalind asked curiously. "I have been told that students are expected to handle the invasions."

Which still irritated her. So sloppy.

"Well," Zack hedged, "mostly it's been a lot of assessing our own abilities, and getting a handle on the terrain of the island. Things like that, you know? And... It isn't that students are really expected to handle the invasions. But good luck keeping us from trying, you know? So much of the student body has fighting background. You'd be surprised, really."

"My limit for surprise has temporarily been reached," she said very dryly. "I am more concerned that the island lacks and properly organized military to deal with invasions should they be regular occurrence."

"They're regular enough," Zack noted. "But... a lot of the time, what hits the island isn't something that can be overcome with brute force."

Which was sort of sad for him, yeah, because brute force what was he did.

"I haven't been here for a lot of them, you'd have to find someone who's been here longer than a year to get into too much detail... But for all I've been able to help hold back invasions, it's been all but impossible to just fight them off."

And this was coming from a one-man army. SOLDIER 1sts were a properly organized military, all on their own.

"Interesting," she said, suppressing the alarm that raised in her. "Is there a record of past invasions somewhere?"

Zack shrugged at that.

"The reserves never really kept one, I don't think. But odds are you'd be able to find something like that in the library. They have all of the local newspapers and stuff there, I think. And it seems to be the destination of choice for people who aren't fighters who still want to make themselves useful."

Rosalind still disapproved.

"Research teams, I assume?"

"Well, of course!" Zack smiled. "If an enemy can't be taken out with brawn, there's got to be something else that will work, right? Sunlight or giant squid or internet dating websites... Or whatever."

Mostly whatever.

"I'll look into it," she said, with finality.

Because she needed more information to go off than that.

"Probably a good idea," Zack decided, because finality was totally an invitation to get the last word in, in his head. "And now, I'm supposed to attempt to sell you the bacon."

Yes, the rainbow stuff. Please pardon the kind of iffy look he had about him, there.

"The linguine alla primavera is amazing."

Also, it wasn't bacon.

"I'll take that," she said promptly.

Because it wasn't the bacon.

Er.

"Is the bacon really... rainbow?"

"Yeeeeeeeeah." Zack grimaced, and then shook his head in disbelief. "The dishes have been experimenting, I think. I haven't tried it."

And he wasn't going to.

"I wish them luck in attempting to sell it," she replied.

Café Fina, Monday

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