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It's always a complicated process, trying to jibe the various timelines he has to deal with, but Charlie's determined. This is his third Milliways-based Lent, and he's not going to let it slide just because it's summer in San Diego. Sometimes a bloke needs a time of contemplation and discipline. Even this bloke.

So. Doorway in from California early this morning, out to Las Vegas for Mass, and back to the Bar again.

For a guy with ashes on his forehead, he looks pretty peaceful.

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Belle notes that he's got ashes on his forehead as well. She smiles at him, nodding her head in greeting. "'Lo."

"Mornin'," he says cheerfully. "Lovely day."

She nods. "Yes, it is. Nice t' see I'm not de only one eatin' fish t'day."

Though there's more to it than that, of course.

"Well, yeah--it's Lent." He holds out a hand. "I'm Charlie."

"Belladonna." She shakes, her grip firm. "Dere's so many people from so many different places, y' f'get dere are some people who do things the way y' used t'."

"That's a lovely name.

"You're from New Orleans, aren't you?"

She nods. "Merci. An' yeah. Born 'n' raised dere." She motions to a seat. "Care t' join me? I woul'n' mind de company."

"Sure, thanks." He makes himself comfortable. "I've visited it a few times. Lovely city. I haven't been back since the hurricane, though. My friends left."

Belle nods at the first few comments, before frowning. "Hurricane?"

Not that there aren't hurricanes, but none that would be known only as 'the' hurricane.

Oh. Er. Oops?

"Katrina?" He winces. "Don't tell me--alternative timeline. Which is actually reassuring, if you want to know the truth."

"Um. . .mebe. What year y' from?"

"Er . . . depends on who I'm with, to be honest. My world is 2004, my boss's is 2007, and my husband's is 2000."

Husband? "Dey legalized gay marriage?" She's kinda glad to hear that. "I'm from 1989." She has the 10 lb cell phone to prove it.

"No, they haven't." He shrugs and play swith his wedding ring a little. "Didn't let that stop us."

She nods and smiles. "Takes guts."

Hell, she's legally married and can't get it to work right. "Hungry? I'll buy if y'll tell me what happens in the next few years."

He smiles a bit. "Love's worth breaking the law over. Particularly when it's a senseless law.

"Oh--thanks, but I'm not sure if I should. I mean, we don't even know if we come from the same universe. My past might not be the same as your future, yeah?"

"All de more reason t' hear 'bout it. If it ain't what happens, den I get an interestin' story out o' it. If it is, I'm mos' likely goin' t' miss most o' de news anyway. Kinda live in de middle o' nowhere. Can't get reliable newspaper delivery."

Charlie thinks it over, then shrugs and grins and says, "Sure. Waffles for a story--is that fair?"

She nods. "Yep. 'N' if de waffles ain't enough, I'm willin' t' talk 'bout my time, too."

Because, in the end, he's got a better chance of figuring out if they're from the same universe or not.

"Brilliant.

"Well, let's see . . . in 1989 I was ten years old and not paying much attention to the outside world . . . ever heard of a band called Driveshaft?"

The easiest starting point, really.

She hasn't heard anything that isn't U2 or Madonna in a loooong time. One of the downfalls of living in the middle of a swamp. "Non, unfortunately. Kinda got limited music selection."

She summons a waitrat, so Charlie can order.

"Hm. Well, it's still too early, anyway. Let's see . . ." He grins at the waitrat and says, "The usual, if you please--but no bacon."

The rat chitters and scampers off.

"So, what do you want to know? Politics, music, movies? Keeping in mind I'm English and find American politics incomprehensible at best and exasperating at worst."

Belle makes a derisive noise. "Let's jes' say politics is de las' t'in' I'm worried about. I get an interesting look at it. So. . .jes'. . .technology. What y' all got? I know about cell phones, but what else?"

"MP3 players?" He takes out his iPod to show her.

Belle kinda looks at it, completely at a loss. "Okay, what's an mp3?"