fandomtownies | Luke's Diner; Tuesday [03/12].

It was definitely a thoughtful, quiet, contemplative Ignis at the diner that Tuesday, which meant maybe a little extra time in the kitchen that morning when he first got there to set up for the day, and then a good deal of idle knife-flipping with one hand while drinking coffee with the other when he was up behind the counter.

The staff had sort of realized that taking bets on Ignis slipping up with the knife weren't as much fun, because it seemed like he never actually did, so now they were just speculating in whispers he was pretty sure they thought he couldn't hear about what was on his mind, which at least effectively shifted some of those answers toward their speculation in and of itself, and a wry sort of amusement at some of their theories.

Some of them weren't too far off, he'd give them that, but none of them were really hitting the mark, and Ignis was perfectly fine with that.

Today's Specials

Honey Sriracha Chicken with Fennel-Cabbage Slaw
Sriracha Sesame Tofu Sandwich with Toasted Seaweed Chips
Sriracha Brownies with Brown Sugar Bourbon Ice Cream

Luke's is open!

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Liliana had felt oddly hesitant about coming to Luke's this afternoon, as if her welcome might be in doubt...which was why she was brashly sailing through the door in the most All Eyes On Me fashion possible. She allowed for a moment's pause to allow the sun to outline her in gold, glinting off her headdress and jewelry, and then continued to strut towards the counter.

Hesitation? Liliana didn't know her. Of course she was welcome. Of course she was wanted. She'd never once contemplated any other possibility, because witness her! She was Liliana fucking Vess and people were blessed to be graced by her presence.

"Still too much pachouli, Greg," she said as she glided by, man forgotten immediately after she'd passed, eyes only on the gentleman behind the counter.

Hope you'd enjoyed your time of quiet contemplation, Ignis, as it had clearly come to an end.

"Hello, my darling," she purred, leaning across the counter. "Miss me?"

Edited 2024-03-12 12:51 (UTC)

Well, really, when a dramatic entrance did rely so heavily on highlighting certain visual components, one truly did have to go over-the-top to cultivate enough of that energy so even those unfortunate enough to be unable to drink it in could still enjoy it. The only thing being compensated for here was surely just that.

The knife flipping stopped abruptly when the door opened; after a moment, his coffee was finished, the empty mug was set aside, and the knife found a home tip-down in the nearest wooden surface (no, Ignis didn't actually know much about how the diner looked, but he emphatically believed a few well-placed knife knicks would exactly tarnish the aesthetic), and he moved to the counter, to meet Liliana, a now-free hand reaching out, palm up, for hers.

"Always," he said.

And he had several hours of recent restrained panic mode to prove it!

"Are you hungry?"

One of Liliana's hands went to rest in that offered palm. The other was extended to glide a chilly finger up the line of his throat and under his chin to draw his face towards hers for a kiss.

"Always," she replied, in a soft cloud of mulberry and cedar.

That was, of course, the correct and only acceptable question, and the fact that Ignis expected no less from Liliana was no reason not to reward such astuteness with a kiss that lingered far beyond what might be deemed acceptable for such a setting by those who found themselves particularly invested in such arbitrary margins.

(Forget the fact that it was also fueled by a sort of relief, that she had volleyed back the hoped-for retort, or that she'd breezed her way in today at all...)

"And what," he asked, when his lips parted with just barely enough room to allow for such murmurings, "are we in the mood for today?"

Liliana also found herself relaxing a bit as their brief volley proved that they hadn't fallen that far out of step with one another over this latest friction.

"What," she turned back, "can you make me that will get you to come join me for lunch the fastest?"

Obviously something special, because what, was she supposed to eat the same meal as the plebes? Hardly.

...Not that Ignis making her something off-menu on Tuesdays had become a thing between them or anything.

"You might wish to consider a few more parameters, darling," Ignis informed her, with a lightly warning tone. One with that low drawl in it, though, that matched the faint lift of the corner of his mouth. "That's a good way to find yourself being served nothing but a severed head of iceberg lettuce with a scant drizzle of balsamic."

He would never! Not even to his worst ene--

--well, no, okay, actually, he most definitely would. Certainly not to Liliana, though.

"But wait," he said, moving his free hand toward his chin in thought, "give me just--"

That curled finger barely had time to settle before Ignis' hand moved out again with a snap.

"That's it!" he declared. "I know just the recipeh!"

Listen, it had been a while. And what better way to show things setting to an equilibrium again than the shameless use of a catch phrase?

With a grin far more evident thanks its level of confidence in the inspiration, Ignis leaned in to give Liliana another, albeit much quicker, kiss.

"Give me just a moment?"

So what was his take on a quarter head of iceberg lettuce drizzled with ranch and some cherry tomatoes thrown on for good measure? Was it 'this is bullshit'? Because it should honestly be 'this is bullshit.'

Liliana laughed and kissed him back. "And see, my darling?" she asked, voice warm with praise. "This is why I don't bother with parameters. Why would I stifle your creativity so?" He always got so happy when he figured out the perfect dish to serve.

"I shall be in our booth when you're ready," she said, not even noticing the swap from the singular possessive to the plural. "Looking forward to whatever gastronomical delight you've come up with to titillate my tastebuds."

A brush of chill fingers over his face and she was making her way to the booth to leave him to the joys of the kitchen.

And before he even got to work in the kitchen, Ignis sent Greg off to grab a few ingredients, to help shave off just those few extra minutes in the process. He wasn't planning on cutting any corners elsewhere, though, despite the request, and he could have probably gone with a quicker recipeh, but this had a good balance of, he felt, of the quality and fuss that Liliana deserved, without having to take an egregious amount of time.

And so it wasn't long at all that he returned, heading over to the booth to set down two plates of caprese sandwiches.

With balsamic, of course.

And with that, he also slid into the seat next to her. "Bon apetite, darling," he said, leaning in for a kiss.

One that Liliana was only too happy to supply, brushing her thumb over his scarred cheek as she lifted her lips to his for a sweet kiss - intended to be slightly on the briefer side, but only because those sandwiches looked delicious and she had brought her appetite with her, as was right and proper.

(Well, more than one, but Luke's regrettably had customers and coworkers.)

"Delicious," she dimpled when the kiss broke. "Oooh, and now I get to try lunch, too." She generally wasn't inclined to lean or get snuggly in public - save when the cold demanded - but her foot slid around his, locking their ankles together beneath the booth table as she took her first bit of her sandwich. Her appreciation was vocal, though not verble. "Mmmm."

Caprese. A real salad, unlike Some Other Pretenders To The Title.

Luke's Diner; Tuesday [03/12].

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