fandomtownies | Luke's Diner; Tuesday [03/26].

Entry tags:

Luke's Diner; Tuesday [03/26].

If one were to find themselves stepping into Luke's particularly early that day, they would find Greg manning the counter, as Ignis seemed to be taking an awfully long time with his preparation for the day and deciding on his specials. The truth of the matter was that, in going into the pantry as usual to see what might be fresh or new or particularly abundant that might spark his inspiration for the day's recipehs. But the truth was, as he may have entered the restaurant's pantry with that intention, his lingering time in there was spent on...other considerations. Of space. Of privacy. Of perhaps a little bit of...stratigic reorganizing...

No reason, of course. He just...enjoyed organizing. This was hardly news...

But, eventually, he did make it back out to the counter, after having concluded on a few specials and set everything up, pouring himself a cup of coffee, and generally letting his mind wander until there were customers.

Well, letting was a debatable term, but who was he to quibble?

Today's Specials
Breaded Cutlet with Tomato
Burly Bean Bowl
Elegant Orange Cake

Luke's is open!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

After spending the morning dealing with an ambush chair, Dean managed to get away by throwing his Kwik stop burrito at it. So he was without lunch and after dealing with weird he needed a burger fix.

So here Dean was, taking a seat at the counter. "Pretty fancy specials for a diner," Dean said looking at the specials menu.

There was a substantial pause at this, because here Ignis thought he was actually going quite the opposite direction with this week's options. These were his more rustic leanings, especially with that cutlet, which almost had him wondering....

He almost didn't want to ask, because this was clearly an unfamiliar voice, but...

"What....exactly is listed on the board?"

It was moments like this that he realized he put an awful lot of trust in his coworkers to actually write down the things he dictated, but, so help him, Greg, if you've been jotting down whatever your heart so desired instead...

Dean flipped the specials around and pointed.

Look, this is Dean. He can get behind "Burly" but words like "Cutlet" and "Elegant" make him feel like he needs to dress up for dinner.

"Pretty fancy to me," Dean said with a shrug. "Still making cheeseburgers and fries though?"

Ignis heard the sign being flipped and could only guess what gesture was going with it, and he sighed, wondering if it was worth the trouble of explaining.

What Dean got, instead, was just a small, tight smile. "Of course," he said, "the specials are, and always have been, mere suggestions on the part of the diner staff."

And if Dean thought the specials were fancy, one couldn't help but wonder what he'd make of that dry, aristocratic drawl as well.

"All the usual fixings, as well?" he asked. "And for your beverage?"

"Double onions and fries please," Dean said with a nod. "But don't do that weird thing they do in Pittsburgh where they put the fries on the burger."

Well, double onions certainly was one way to handle the week ahead, even if Ignis had still not managed to catch onto the fact that this week was *that* week, somehow, oddly enough.

There was another slight pause.

"I...wouldn't even have thought to do so," he admitted, "especially since we categorically not in Pittsburgh. Any other notes?"

"French fries on a sandwich is weird in theory and despite my usual appetite a travesty and burger-ruiner in epic proportions," Dean agreed. "No other notes. Just medium rare. I'm Dean, by the way. One of the newbies in town."

"Ignis," he offered back, with a nod, "and welcome, then, to the island."

It sounded somewhat distracted, though, but not quite in the same way distraction had been seizing so many these past couple days. Something about what Dead had said had started to pull at his chef brain and now he simply had to know, especially with the respect to double onions.

"Although," he said, "now I do have to wonder...if french fries on a burger are considered a travesty," a detail he himself would have to consider in great detail to decide where he landed on, but, at the moment, he was inclined to side with Dean, although perhaps with some particular exceptions, "what are your thoughts on onion rings in the same capacity?"

Dean leaned forward, his interest piqued. "That depends. Are we dealing with properly cooked onion rings where the onion isn't properly breaded so when you eat one the onion slides out in the first bite like a worm? Because if so then color me interested."

"Well," said Ignis, the faint smirk that had been surfacing seeming to twitch to an unexpected halt, tightening it again, and he waved a hand almost demonstrably in the air as he spoke, "I suppose there's a wide gamut to run there, from a liberal sprinkling of some delicately crisped onions, to the more....traditional," he refused to refer to a food property being comparable to a worm as proper, "as described. But I figure, if you're already getting double onions, why not dress a few up before sending them out?"

And while he might not have been wild about Dean's word choice, he did appreciate that he now knew precisely how to cook them to preference.

"I like your style, Iggy," Dean said with a grin. "I can tell you're a man of many talents."

Or at least with onion rings.

"Oh, Dean," said Ignis, because he may be blind, but even he could see that an opening that big had be seized, "you have no idea.

"I'll be back shortly," he then nodded, "with your burger and fries. Distinctly separate."

And, with that, he took his leave to the kitchen, to tend to the order, perhaps with even a little extra care and attention to the finer details, not only because the distraction to fall into cooking even simple things (perhaps especially those) was welcome, and because he could hardly depart on a line like that and fail to deliver.

In due time, he returned with the food, to set it down before Dean.

"Bon apetite."

Dean immediately began stuffing his face with the burger without any sense of decorum. "Mmmph. Good. Can I get another one to go?"

There was, perhaps, an oh-so-subtle nudge of a napkin dispenser Dean's way.

"Certainly," Ignis said, "I'll get started on it straight away."

By the sound of it, he didn't imagine it would be terribly long before Dean made his way to the end of the first.

"Hey, can I get a beer?" Dean called out, his mouth full of burger.

He totally ignored the napkin dispenser.

Ignis was about to ask Dean if he had any particular preference, and then seemed to realize that that was very likely an extremely silly question to ask.

So Dean would now find himself beered with something maybe slightly above the average and expected, although not by mucj, and Ignis left again to see about that to-go burger.

Although, when he returned to set the burger in its carry-out back in front of Dean, his head was tilted somewhat with curiosity.

"You know," he ventured, "it just struck me back in the kitchen that I may have caught your name elsewhere."

It bothered him a little, that he hadn't made the connection sooner, but he would blame that on the unfinished voice texts waiting for him on his phone right now.

"Are you the Dean that's newly employed over at the Infinite Consortium?"

"Oh yeah, that's me," Dean said, for once swallowing his food before talking. "Never really held down a job long before that to be honest but the place aligns with some of the stuff I've dealt with over the years."

He took a swig of his beer. "Not sure about the new boss though. She seems to have a mean streak in her."

"Mmm." A hum of agreement, and, usually, Ignis was much, much better about keeping such an open smirk of amusement off his face. "Like you wouldn't believe. It would be rather wise to avoid crossing her, if you can help it. Especially if you do intend to keep the job," among many other things, no doubt!, "for long."

“Oh, you know her?” Dean asked, after he swallowed his swig of beer. “Thanks for the warning. I’ve dealt with her type before. So if you’re trying to tell me she’s dangerous, I agree. I’ve been in these types of situations before. I can handle myself. “

"She and I are well acquainted, yes," Ignis confirmed, and the only thing preventing him from collecting an award on the Most Understated Comment in Existence was probably the unbidden (and, quite frankly, uncharacteristic) smirk that seemed to make no subtle hints toward what the nature of that acquaintance might entail. "And I've no doubt you could. Just keep your wits about you, and you should fare just fine."

Edited 2024-03-26 21:38 (UTC)

… The nickel finally dropped.

“Ohhhhhh. Right. Got it. You knoooow her.”

Unfortunately the wiggling of eyebrows was probably lost on Ignis. And even unnecessary.

“Nicely done pal. She’s a catch. Dangerous and probably evil but definitely a catch.”

Don't worry, Dean. Ignis could practically hear those eyebrow.

"I--" He faltered, slightly, because, so help him, he actually did think he was being subtle, no thanks to the pollen, but, then, well, there was the question of what was the purpose, even, of subtly, at this point, anyway?

And so there was...a nod. "Thank you." And there was that grin creeping out yet again, he really needed to get his face under some proper discipline again. "I am inclined to agree wholeheartedly."

Perhaps not on the evil part, not really, but far be it from him to try and meddle with a mystique so clearly carefully cultivated.

"But as you can now likely discern, my warnings are entirely selfish, as the less you do cross her, the less I have to worry about that ire trickling down in the privacy of our own home."

Dean watched Ignis expression and chuckled. Adorable.

“Tell you what, you keep making burgers this good, I’ll keep my attitude dialed back a notch or two. Unless you want angry sex and I’ll go in the other direction.”

Edited 2024-03-27 01:17 (UTC)

Liliana had spent the morning send Ignis voice texts that, if he were wise, he would not listen to at work. For several reasons, but the most important one being, uh, they were not the kinds of messages he probably wanted his coworkers to overhear. But they were on his phone.

Waiting.

Yearning.

It's doubtful she would have done more than that, since they had a great deal of proof what happened when they were in proximity to one another even on a normal day, but she'd gotten up to go talk to her new employee and if she were already out and about, there was no way she wasn't going to come and see Ignis as well.

She didn't announce herself with quite the flair she usually did, simply breezed through the door and beelined to the counter. "Ignis," she said, committing a class of crimes normally reserved for treason.

Edited 2024-03-26 15:30 (UTC)

That was a mistake Ignis had learned the hard way, not thinking anything about immediately listening to Liliana's first message, because what if something was wrong? He could hardly leave her 'on read,' but it quickly became apparently that he should absolutely not leave her on speaker, either. He was a bit more cautious, with the others, which he still checked, just in case, though it was apparently that the only emergency being suffered that morning was that of a necromancer sorely in need of a distraction that he desperately wished he could provide.

Those lingering messages awaiting to be enjoyed in full nearly had him wondering what he was even doing here in the first place, and he did wonder if he should abandon post after all...

But then Liliana saved him the trouble of going to her by coming to him, and he was going to meet that treason with a felony of his own.

"Liliana..."

She stopped, well short of the counter which she usually leaned against and said softly, "Come here."

The smart thing to do would be to kiss him with the counter in the way. Liliana was not feeling particularly smart today, however.

"I need you." She hadn't intended to explain herself, but that had slipped out unintentionally.

Ignis had, in general, not been the type for counter-hopping, but today, he was making an exception to that. After all, the shortest route between two points is a straight line, and the distance around the counter, rather suddenly, seemed much too untenable.

Thank goodness nothing had been on the counter directly in front of him, though he would never truly know how closely a caddy of condiments almost went the same way of the tarts from yesterday.

And then his arm was sliding around her, his body pressing into hers, and his tone maintained its criminal candor as he murmured back, "The feeling is quite mutual."

And he paused there, as if to leave that to linger, to hold back his kiss to force her hand into being the first to claim one, but who was he kidding? As soon as he caught the familiar, delicate scent of her, he couldn't hold back, and any intensity pooled into what resulted in this break of will was clearly entirely her fault, and not only did he suspect she knew exactly why, but that it was blame she would accept proudly.

For all that Liliana espoused shucking blame as often and creatively as possible, Ignis was correct in this instance. She absolutely would wear that blame as a badge of honor.

If it helped any, she was definitely claiming the second kiss. And the third, wherein she decided to increase the number of criminal charges being levied by moaning into it, fingers clutching at his shoulders in an increasingly-vain attempt to keep them from his hair.

Eventually, she asked, "...Did you get my messages?"

"I did." Ignis all but growled out the answer, and as a show of appreciation for what he'd managed to listen to before propriety stepped in, he took her bottom lip between his teeth and gave it a not-so-gentle tug. But a soothing brush of his tongue was quick to follow, and, after that, an even more conciliatory light kiss. His hand brushed back her hair from her neck to clear a path for his next kiss, and for his next words to find her eyes.

"Feeling inspired this morning, hmm?"

"You give me a great deal to think about, she said with a curving smile, head tilting to give him however much of her neck he wished to claim. "Do you regret being my muse? Because I assure you, my darling, what I sent was art."

"Quite the contrary, my darling," Ignis murmured, and he was sparing, with the attention paid to that neck, and not just in the sacrifice of his lips needing to used to respond; most of his attention seemed to be at her shoulder, noting and testing what fabric be covering it today, in any at all, considering some of her preferred style, "far from regret. I revel in the chance to be your anything.

"The only thing I do regret," fingers brushing her shoulders now, he lengthened the pause with a nip to her earlobe, "is that I could not listen to them in their entirety, given the circumstances. Perhaps, though, you'd like to....fill me in?"

And you didn't expect, now, did you, for him to spend all that attention on her shoulder, only to not lower his head to sink his teeth tenderly into it, did you?

Oh, Liliana was totally on her bullshit today, which meant her shoulder had plenty of available skin for him to caress and kiss and bite. She also had a few ideas of something she could slip into later, when Ignis had time to properly appreciate the various textures involved.

"Ah!" was Liliana's first response, a soft exhalation at the sweet press of his teeth into her skin, fingers tensing enough to prick her nails into him. And then, "Harder," which was a positively stupid thing to say, because if he bit her harder, it was entirely likely she'd fail to modulate the noises she made under his teeth.

It didn't stop her from making it.

"And...are you really sure...you want me to tell you? Here?" she panted. "Because I will, my darling. Every lurid detail..."

Of the two of them, she had significantly less shame.

Those nails digging into Ignis pulled quite the sounds out of Ignis as well, a sound he buried by fulfilling Liliana's demand in a way that would leave no room for debate in being sufficiently hard enough. He immediately followed it by finding her mouth again.

"Not here," he gasped out, breathless. "Apartment. Now."

Not a question, but a growled demand of his own.

There may have been space cleared out in the pantry now, certainly, but he doubted his ability to hold onto any sort of discretion for his fellow empoyees' consideration once he got there.

(They were kind of already feeling you were pretty well past that point already there, bud, but...thanks?)

See? And you had doubted the wisdom of keeping the apartment, Ignis. Tch. Where was your frugality, now?

We weren't going to talk about what that growled out demand did for Liliana, but she delayed their departure long enough for a kiss that promised positively filthy things and her hands absolutely lost their fight to stay out of his coiffure, knotting in his hair to keep him close until she was good and ready to release him.

"Apartment," she agreed, taking his hand. Time would tell to see how far they made it.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Luke's Diner; Tuesday [03/26].

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject