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Luke's, Thursday

The kitchen staff spent the first half of the day staring at Sheba. She checked her hair seven times, but couldn't find whatever they might have put in it. When she finally started to check for "kick me" signs, the cook narrowed his eyes at her.

". . . Priestly?" he asked.

Sheba sighed. She was just going to have to get used to everyone being obsessed with her last name for awhile, wasn't she?

"That's right," she said. "Now get back to work before I fire all your asses."

Today's specials
Buffalo cheeseburger, crunchified
San Francisco garlic fries
Chelsea buns

Luke's was open.

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For a somewhat less sassful experience

Be prepared for her to call you by your last name if you call her "Priestly".

"Chelsea buns!" Sam had seen the sign and couldn't resist. "I haven't seen those in a while. Except in the context of innuendo."

"They are, in fact, literal buns in this case," Sheba assured her. "Though I do love a good innuendo."

"Great," Sam said, smiling brightly. "Two of those, in that case. And I'm quite relieved about what that means for your health and safety rating."

Edited 2014-02-20 22:58 (UTC)

"Well, when we don't have bald eagles turning into naked mayors on the counter, anyway." Sheba shrugged. "One of these days, an inspector will come through and shut down the whole town. Two literal chelsea buns, coming right up."

"Thank y-- wait, what was that?" Sam couldn't help but check to make sure that she wasn't leaning on the counter. "This counter?"

"It's been disinfected," Sheba assured her, arranging two buns on a plate. "Several times."

"Oh, good." That was a relief. "I like this place too much to stop eating here. Not that I don't trust you to keep a clean counter! But I'm a bit of a germophobe. So. It's good to know for sure."

Stop babbling, Traynor.

Oh no, by all means, keep babbling! It was adorable.

"Inspectors or no, my food's too good to waste on a dirty counter."

"Oh, you're a chef!" Sam blushed; it probably seemed like she was showering Sheba with compliments. "Well, I didn't mean to gush. I'm just a bit picky, between my allergies and not having been born on Earth, and this place is one of the few places I've found locally where I've been completely happy every time."

Yeah, that wasn't any less gushy.

"I don't think I've ever seen you working here before, though!"

Sheba honestly couldn't remember a specific time she'd seen Sam in the diner, but she was pretty sure it'd happened on her shift at least once. "I've worked here for years," she said. "Sheba Priestly? I run the place? We met your first day."

In Sheba's universe it had maybe gone slightly better than in this one. At least flirting wise.

It almost certainly had. No universe's Sam Traynor could resist a quick-witted blonde who could cook.

"Oh -- did we?" Sam scrunched up her face in an effort to remember. "You know, I've got to admit I was portal-lagged as all hell that day, so I haven't got the foggiest memory of most of what happened." She gave an apologetic little wince. "But, in that case, it's lovely to meet you now that I'm in full control of my mental faculties?"

"Sounds good to me," Sheba said. "And honestly, it might not be you. I've been getting weird looks and reactions around here for days. My best friend tried to tell me I was supposed to be a guy, of all things."

Sam quirked an eyebrow. "Well, that's not terribly polite," she noted. "And you've no idea what they're on about?"

Edited 2014-02-21 02:29 (UTC)

Sheba shook her head. "Only times I've been a guy have been the weekends when the island decides to play with gender."

"Hm," Sam said, frowning. "In that case, I'm inclined to suspect some sort of prank, but it's a bit more eerie than funny, given where we live."

For her part, she liked Sheba as a woman. Surprising no one.

Sheba liked it, too!

"Yeah, it was one thing when it was Dinah. She's a little bit concussion prone. But when everyone starts to look at you funny, you have to start wondering."

Sam tapped her chin, more for effect than out of any particular impulse to do so.

"Well, I suppose there are a few options," she said. "Either it's a large-scale prank, there's been an epidemic of mass memory loss, or the island's trying funny business. Which I suppose would cover the second option as well." She gave it a moment's thought, then added slowly as an idea came to her, "Well -- right, if it's the the first or second thing, I'll be of no use, but if you're worried the island's doing something odd, we've got all kinds of identity verification technology over at Portalocity. It's silly, of course, but if it would put your mind at ease, I could look you up, run your universe ID and prove that you are without a doubt a very... un-mannish woman."

If that was flirting, it was really weird, Sam.

Which probably meant that it was flirting.

It was a strange sort of flirting, but Sheba still found it reassuring. "That'd be cool. I never thought that much about what sort of tech you guys must have over there. Just, you know, whether it'll actually get me home and back or not."

Dean had not noticed anything different despite living with Priestly. Which. You know. Dean.

And that would be why he was pausing in the route up to the apartment. "Hey."

To flirt.

Edited 2014-02-21 00:05 (UTC)

Oh, that was just precious.

"Hey yourself, slugger."

Dean was totally fine with being called 'slugger' here. "You new in town?"

Sheba leaned her hip against the counter and crossed her arms. "I've lived here longer than you have."

"I think I'd remember you," Dean replied confidently.

"So would I, considering we live together."

Her conversation with Dinah had at least slightly prepared her for this. That didn't make it any less weird or amusing.

Wait, what?

"What?"

Thanks, Dean.

"Loft upstairs? With a red panda. Not sure how you'd miss it."

Since, you know, they'd been cohabitating for kind of a while, now.

"Seriously?" But you're hot! And don't look like Dean did as a chick. Which was probably a good thing.

The many splendored wonders of genetics.

"'Fraid so," Sheba said, full of mock-sympathy. "You've managed to totally forget that you live with a hot lesbian."

Dean stared at her for a moment. "...if this is is some angelic bullshit, I'm breaking out the holy oil and crispy fryin' some sons of bitches.."

"And hello to you, too, Dean's anger issues," Sheba said. "Don't look at me, my world doesn't even have angelic bullshit."

Dean just gave her another suspicious look. "Doesn't stop 'em."

Sheba shook her head. "Sure thing, Dean."

She was moderately disturbed that he went to threatening a) when she mentioned being a lesbian and b) before he'd even asked for the name of the person he forgot he lived with.

You live end up in random AUs before showing up on this island and see how you react.

"Seriously. Who the hell are you?"

Sheba held out her hand. "Sheba Priestly. Luke's proprietor and alumna of Fandom High. Your boss, in fact."

"Pretty sure my boss and roommate was a dude. Looked like me even. Handsome guy." Thank you, Dean. "So. Try another one."

"Really? You too? Dinah tried this crap on me, already."

Admittedly, this just provided evidence that they were right. But really? Her? A guy? She just couldn't see it.

"And you don't think we might be telling the truth?" Well. Dean was a professional liar sometimes, so.

"That I used to be a mohawked man who went solely by his last name and somehow have no memory of it?" Sheba said. "It's kind of a stretch."

"You live here and that's the stretch?"

"Sure, I turn into a guy, sometimes. But I still know I'm me." Sheba shrugged. "And I'm just so good at being a girl."

"Uh huh."

"Maybe," Sheba said, "the island is only making you think I was a guy."

Occam's razor was for jerks.

So apparently my building doesn't have any hot water at 7:45 in the morning.

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Luke's, Thursday

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OOC