fandomtownies | Luke's Diner, February 14 (Monday)

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Luke's Diner, February 14 (Monday)

Lacey had kept up on the radio broadcasts and knew exactly what was going on this weekend (despite the fact that it had been prom weekend she'd marked up on her calendar with big red Sharpie exclamation points and warnings about watching out for balloons), so she'd made a point of hiding out for most of it. There wasn't much she could do other than brave the possible children and head into work today, though, and so she'd tried to quell her own anxiety by throwing herself into planning the day's menu with a desperately maniacal fervor.

She'd been in the middle of congratulating herself for the delicious-sounding yet vegetarian specials she'd come up with when she remembered that the entire reason she'd started to put so much effort into planning vegetarian food options wasn't around any more.

It took a lot of the perk out of her demeanor as she bustled around the diner today.

Today's Specials
Spiced Coconut Pancakes with Tropical Fruit
Quinoa, Garbanzo, and Spinach Salad
Provençal Chicken and Tomato Roast

Hastily scribbled below all those, almost as an afterthought:

Macaroni and Cheese
Chicken Nuggets

NOW HIRING - See Manager for Details

Luke's is open and, Lacey hopes fervently, destined to be balloon-free.

[OOC: And OCD-free, and open, and yes, Lacey really is terrified of balloons. Mwahaha.]

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No balloons, but John did have a rose on him. Just the one, as he'd decided upon whilst brooding over his condoms last Friday, and he was hoping it wouldn't be, er, too much.

He remembered about the balloons. Don't worry about that.

"Please tell me there aren't any children here."

Well, there was something that would snap Lacey out of her funk, at least until whatever point later when she remembered Angua wouldn't be coming in to try and get gossip out of her.

"Not yet," she replied, managing a smile that actually wasn't too wavery. "Hi, John. Happy, um . . ."

She couldn't help a little giggle at the rose, okay? "Happy Valentine's Day?"

What? "Oh, right," John said, dropping the oh-god-Sherlock scowl off his face (Lacey would recognise that one by now) so he could present her with the flower properly. If by 'properly' meant 'letting it flop over towards her a bit'. "Happy Valentine's Day. I, er, hope you like it."

It was a very distinctive scowl, so yes, she recognized it.

"It's been a quiet one so far," she told him, profoundly grateful for that. " How was class today? Oh -- is that for me?"

And yes, that was Lacey fishing for compliments just a little bit, after the moment of honest confusion had passed.

John laughed - it was a bit gentle, and maybe a little awkward, but he meant it well. "I'm not seeing any other attractive women around here."

Hey, John tried.

"Unless my staff's gone and turned into women again," Lacey offered with another little giggle. "That's really sweet of you, John, thank you."

She reached out to take the rose from him, not in any particular hurry to, you know, take it. "I didn't get you anything --" because she hadn't honestly been expecting this -- "but I can whip you up a nice meal or extra dessert to go with your tea?"

"You don't have to," John said, though that was mostly a rote protest. "And you didn't... have to, either. I just thought you'd, ah, like having something." Smooth. Smoother than butter. "Don't suppose you'll be up for having some dinner tonight? Perhaps?"

"Oh, gosh, would I ever," Lacey blurted out, jumping on the offer like a -- what a timely metaphor -- parent on Christmas Eve going for the last in-demand toy of the year in stock at the toy store. "I can close up early, it's not a problem at all . . ."

"And hopefully by then Kasei will have cleared off," John continued. He liked the girl, but he really didn't see himself as a father. Not genuinely. "So that should be settled, then. One quiet dinner for us."

Lacey was completely above crossing her fingers behind her back. Completely above it. Completely . . . not really.

"Oh, it's very settled. You ended up with a kid too?" she asked, a little sorry the aforementioned kid wasn't here; she was genuinely curious as to how John would act around a child of his sort-of own.

Still. It had been [actual amount of time redacted] since she'd had a real date on Valentine's Day.

[OOC: YOU SAW NOTHING OMG THAT NEVER HAPPENED.]

"Oh, not one of mine," John said. Which was bringing him to the current source of his disgruntlement... "Sherlock and miss Kuukaku's. Of course both of them ran at the sight of her, so I've spent the whole bloody weekend looking after her."

And Kuukaku better be looking after her now if she knew what was good for her.

[[ *TRAUMATIZED* ]]

"You got stuck babysitting their kid?" Lacey's wide-eyed expression was a good portion sympathy, but also terror at the thought because dear god that combination of personalities. That was plenty of reason to hurry up and get that tea started for him now, and find a cute vintage glass bottle to serve as a vase so she could display the rose prominently by the cash register. "Oh, you poor thing. I'm amazed you remembered what day it was after that."

But grateful. Also flattered. Because eee.

[[I'VE BLOCKED IT FROM MY MEMORY I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT LA LA LA.]]

John debated whether to mention he'd been ~~fretting~~ thinking about this since Friday, but that sounded rather teenage of him on the whole, so he opted not to. "I managed," he said instead, hurrying on to his seat. "Though not without battle scars of a kind. She gets very hungry."

Lacey would deny forever any fleeting mental images of Godzilla-like children demanding sustenance while John dodged falling debris dozens of stories below, but a Sherlock and Kuukaku child. She only knew what she'd heard of Kuukaku from the radio broadcast, granted, but that was frightening.

"Kids are always hungry," she said airily, bringing the tea over to him. "I think they like making a bigger deal out of being hungry than anything else; they can't always be as starving as they claim they are. But if you need me to send over a few burgers or anything, I can pack some up for you."

She grinned. "In the interest of making sure you're intact for dinner, and all."

"It wouldn't hurt to have some food lying about the house," John said, sheepishly.

And then gratefully, because there was tea. Which he went for with all due gusto. "I found the girl in a donut shop with Kuukaku and she still didn't bother to feed her. I don't know what that's about."

"Would you really want her to have sugar?" Lacey pointed out reasonably, if a bit heartlessly. "Tell you what: I'll have the guys grill up a few steaks and you can take those home for later."

"Good point," John told his tea. "But that would be brilliant, thanks. It's nice to know someone cares about this child."

"I don't exactly love kids," Lacey had to admit. (What she wouldn't admit: making the offer gave her a slight sense of superiority.) "But it'd be mean not to, wouldn't it? She sounds like a handful. Several handfuls."

A beat.

"A wheelbarrowful."

John glanced at her. He had to repress a smile. (And then kind of failed at repressing it anyway.) "I'm not actually a big fan, either," he offered.

"Would you believe that's actually nice to hear?" asked Lacey.

Hey, it was a much nicer option than something along the lines of 'you cruel, heartless ice monster, what have you got against kids?!?'

. . . like that, only toned down a lot.

"I'm going to choose to believe it," John said, a little inanely. "Still, there's a difference between 'not being a fan' and running away at the sight of one."

"You say that because you've never had one run at you with a balloon," Lacey had to point out.

Because gah, trauma.

"...What is it with the balloon thing?"

"It's a perfectly valid phobia. There's a support group and everything!" Oh, way to sound like a whimsical basket case, Lacey, especially since you'd been dragged to said support group by a guy who'd subjected you to a verbal treatise, the entire way there, on why it was completely plausible that Strifenova Celestial had really happened. ~~Because it had.~~

She looked a little harried, and lowered her voice. "They're round, and floaty, and it's just not right."

"But they're... balloons," John said, slowly. "It's not like they'll leap up and attack you."

He wasn't judging. Any man who voluntarily lived with Sherlock Holmes was in no position to judge. Much.

Lacey drooped a bit. "I know. It's kind of silly, isn't it? I can't even explain why they're so disturbing; they just are."

And had been, long, long before Fandom, which just made it extra sad, so the not-judging was appreciated.

John took a sip of his tea. "I suppose we've all got something to be afraid of...?" he olive-branched.

Oh, thank God.

"And it's not always rational, is it?" she agreed, looking a bit more at ease. "But anyway, enough terrifying subjects. How'd class go today?"

. . . yeah, that was less terrifying.

"Well, Sherlock tried to get them all to get vasectomies."

He really didn't have to say more than that, did he?

It was such a good thing Lacey didn't have anything in her hands right now.

". . . can I get a do-over on that less terrifying subject thing?"

John put his tea down. "Please do."

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Luke's Diner, February 14 (Monday)

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