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Luke's, Friday

So Eliot was getting his first real full taste of just what it meant to live in Fandom ~~thus far off-screen DAMMIT WORK~~. He hadn't really understood what was going on on Wednesday -- the fact that he'd spent all day yelling at everyone while Leverage Associates set up a job wasn't exactly unusual. Sure, there was the whole part where by the end of the day he'd tried to actually cut the stupid jewel thing out of his stomach, but again not really that weird.

Then he'd spent yesterday cracking jokes with Parker while the con tried to fall apart around them, and Hardison accused him of being on drugs. They'd managed to pull it back around by the skin of their teeth (Eliot was not actually unfamiliar with flirting with the person trying to kill him -- and yes, Hardison, punching and kicking really was a valid form of flirtation), and Eliot had been unnaturally pleased long enough that he still didn't entirely manage to connect the whole thing with the changing color thing that hadn't gone away yet.

Today? Well. Today, the thing had gone from purple to gray and he was just paranoid enough to figure out that that must be associated with the fact that he was -- well, paranoid. Even more than usual, even.

Today's specials
WHY ARE YOU ASKING?

Luke's was open.

Ish.

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Mind the booby-trapped entrance.

The kitchen staff is 90% sure they've managed to remove any sharp or exceptionally heavy objects from his path. The line of cocktail forks running down the wall next to the door to the kitchen doesn't count, they're lodged into the wall pretty deep.

Kitty had mainly decided to go out because she'd felt like everyone was avoiding her and she wanted to see for herself if that was really true.

Luckily she didn't have to worry about any booby traps because of the phasing thing.

But when she got to the counter she managed a nervous, "Hi," and seemed to not want to say anything else.

Eliot stared at her suspiciously. "What do you want?"

"I, um. Is this a bad time?" she asked, worried that she'd interrupted something.

Oh, sure, pry into his private life!

"Why do you want to know that?"

"Oh, god, I'm sorry. Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?" Kitty asked.

"Not that I was aware of." And here he thought he was being vigilant enough! "Why, what did you do?"

"Nothing! At least, I don't think I did..." Oh god she probably did and she didn't even know it.

"That's exactly what you'd say if you did do something," Eliot said. He looked around the diner counter, but couldn't find anything to use for defense other than a flimsy cardboard box of paper napkins.

Well. He could work with that if he had to.

"But I didn't! That I know of! Should I go? I should probably go," she said. What was he looking for? Probably trying to find something to shun her with.

"Why are you leaving suddenly?" Eliot asked, hand clenching on the box of napkins. "Did you do something to the diner?"

Those poor napkins. They never stood a chance.

"No! You've seen me the whole time!"

This wouldn't help her nerves even on a normal day, really.

On a normal day, Eliot would at least be subtler. "It's the crystal, isn't it," he decided. "You have something to do with the crystal."

"I have nothing to do with the crystal! It's not my fault, I swear," Kitty insisted.

"Yeah? Then how do you know what it is?"

. . . Because you just mentioned it, moron.

"Because you just asked me about it."

Also she had one too, but she didn't want to tell him that in case he thought it was a conspiracy? But what if it was a conspiracy? Did it mean she was going to end up like him?

Probably not unless she had a fair amount of paranoia to carry around on the regular.

". . . Oh," Eliot said, because underneath the seething mass of tension and suspicion was a somewhat logical individual trying to get out. "Right. That makes sense."

(A suspicious amount of sense. . . .)

"I'm just gonna... back away here," Kitty said, backing away towards the door, "and it'll be like I never even came in."

"Be careful," Eliot advised, because if he wasn't suspicious of you, he was suspicious for you. "There's a lot of weird people out there."

Maybe even almost as weird as the person in here.

"Got it," Kitty said, so nervous that she didn't even think about exiting through the wall rather than using the door.

Either way, byeeee!

"Holy fuck!" Eliot flung the crumpled napkin box at the wall.

Just when he'd thought he had all the exits covered. Now he had to booby-trap the walls.

Vic was probably one of the ~~boring~~ lucky few not to have a mood crystal but that didn't keep her from being a little on the cranky side today.

Especially after the weird phone calls that had been coming into the station since Wednesday.

But today was her day off which meant exploring and deciding to try out the local restaurant.

It's probably a good thing she wasn't wearing her deputy's uniform around Eliot today.

She walked in, gave the guy behind the counter a smile and asked "What's good today?"

Edited 2014-05-23 18:54 (UTC)

Oh, sure, the hot new cop had to come in on a day when the island made Eliot crazy. Someone was clearly out to get him.

He'd tried to interrogation tactic on the last person who'd wandered their way in here. It hadn't worked. Time for a new angle. "Salad's good," he said. "Safe."

Yep, that wasn't creepy at all.

"Well that's a ringing endorsement," Vic said sarcastically. "What would I get if I wanted to live on the edge? A chicken sandwich?"

"You tryin' to say something about how I keep my kitchen?"

DAMMIT, ELIOT.

"You won't get anything from my food. Though I don't trust that cook."

This was probably true even without outside influence.

"Oooookay," Vic said leaning back from the hot-but-scary guy behind the counter. "Just making a little joke. Clearly not that funny. Though now I'm not sure I'd trust the cook either if the only thing safe to eat is the salad."

"Suppose he could end up using the wrong cutting board," Eliot said. Really, there were all sorts of ways to fuck shit up in a kitchen. "I'll have to prepare it myself to be sure. Coffee definitely hasn't been tampered with. You should take it black."

The creamer looked shifty, today.

"That's how I drink it anyway," Vic said raising her eyebrow. "So if I request that you make something what would you recommend?"

"Sourced some fresh roast beef from an Amish market, last night," Eliot said. Back when the world was beautiful and happy and everything was good. "Could probably do you melt with that." Assuming no one had tampered with the bread box. He was reasonably certain they hadn't. The alarm he put on it hadn't gone off. "You're new in town."

"That wasn't a question, was it?" Vic said with an amused look. "What if I am? Does that mean I'll get some horseradish with my roast beef melt?"

"Why, did you do something to the horseradish?"

DAMMIT ELIOT.

"Small town. You start to recognize everyone pretty quickly."

"I've never been in this place before so how could I do anything to the horse radish?" Vic asked. "Is there a problem if I'm new here too?"

"So you say," Eliot muttered. He only worked once a week, how did he know for sure? "Won't be any trouble unless you stir it up." He only made trouble on the mainland, after all.

TWO MAGAZINES GOING TO PRESS IN TWO DAYS.

Just wait, one of these days, I'll end up on the monthly, the weekly, and the daily on the same day. . . .

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Luke's, Friday

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OOC