(no subject)

[theunsmiling]

Michael makes her way from the front door to a corner booth, tossing her bike helmet onto the seat. She passes the booth, however, and swings by Bar herself.

The exchange is quick but not unpleasant. The archangel is carrying a cup of coffee, a donut with sprinkles, and a newspaper with a crossword as she makes her way back to the booth. She props her boots up on the table, slouches way down, and gets to work.

The coffee might last longer than the crossword puzzle, but the donut is doomed.

Comments

[52-dropoff.livejournal.com]

"Need a hand with that?" Charlie is nursing a tea, reading The Tao of Pooh and not finding it to be useful.

[theunsmiling]

"The coffee?" Michael asks, huffing out a quiet breath as some of her hair -- short and dark and flyaway -- falls into her eyes.

"Or the crossword puzzle?"

[52-dropoff.livejournal.com]

"The crossword. I don't think I know anyone who needs help with coffee. And I never touch the stuff." Health nut.

[theunsmiling]

"Some people seem to need to give help to those with coffee. It's an odd affliction, but I guess weirdness is par for the course. With people, I mean."

She looks up at that, green eyes too alert for her casual posture.

"Do you like crosswords?"

[52-dropoff.livejournal.com]

Interesting eyes. Greener than most green eyes. Or so it seems. Maybe it's the light.

"Now and then. I used to do them in my days out there. I don't see them that much here. No regular delivery of the Times or the Daily Planet."

[justasaleswoman]

Strangely enough, there's a demon in a booth of her own not far away.

She is not slouching. Nor working a crossword puzzle. Nor drinking coffee.

Nor about to approach an archangel who all but threatened to kill her the last time they met.

[theunsmiling]

So demons can learn wisdom -- despite significant evidence to the contrary, Michael may never be sure.

And yet --

"Thou art quite a persistent creature, demon."

[justasaleswoman]

"You know, it's impressive the way you walk the line between insult and compliment, Michael."

[theunsmiling]

"Thy continued existence might be said to depend upon that line."

Her tone suggests this dependence is more than just possible.

[ofthosegoodold]

You are being ignored something fierce, Michael. Just so you know.

Milliways would be perfect if not for its tendency to have angels roaming about.

Not that Applegate's about to let that chase him off. Even if - or especially because - he has a sneaking suspicion of exactly who it is he's ignoring right now. (It's something about the energy. Michael always did radiate his very own unique brand of smug.)

[theunsmiling]

Michael's care for being ignored is aptly expressed by the way she uncaps her pen, scribbles letters into a few spaces on her crossword puzzle, and slowly, meditatively, takes a bite of her donut.

Smug is in the eyes of the beholder.

She is far, far better at radiating disdain.

[ofthosegoodold]

Applegate stops a waitrat to order a glass of water.

Considering that he rarely orders anything, even water, some might interpret that as a nervous gesture of some kind.

Those who would are clearly not grasping the nuances of the situation.

[theunsmiling]

Michael merely taps her pen against her lower lip, twice, then fills in another answer on her puzzle.

There are flecks of powdered sugar on her top lip.

This means there are now flecks of powdered sugar on her pen, too.

She does not appear to notice.

[evil_koala_626]

Truer words have never been narrated. The coffe might grow tepid. The pen might run dry. But that donut doesn't have a snowball's chance.

The scent of freshly baked goodness wafts its way up out of the booth like a particularly aromatic siren song. With sprinkles.


Snuffle. Snuffle snuffle. Snufflesnufflesnufflesnuffle. "Oooooh....."

It was only a matter of time, really.

[theunsmiling]

Michael continues to slouch, all unsuspecting.

Her crossword puzzle is very absorbing.




As is her coffee.

[evil_koala_626]

The snuffling is abruptly cut off, replaced by the rapid pattering of small feet on the approach. As they draw closer, the feet accompaniment of wet, whiffling breathing becomes more apparent. Especially when they stop a short distance away.

There is a moment's pause as the person in the booth is eyed speculatively.

[theunsmiling]

The person in the booth does not seem to be eyeing him in turn.

How odd.

[gavemea_45]

He's on the way to the bar to get more coffee when he spots her.

"Hi, Michael."

[theunsmiling]

"Sam," Michael says, looking up -- and up -- and up.

That is what slouching does to a girl.

Or an angel.

"You're looking a little less like shit. Gold star."

[gavemea_45]

"... uh, thanks."

Beat.

"You're looking, um, comfortable."

[theunsmiling]

"I slept well last night."

She doesn't snicker.

"Funny how that works. You can join me if you like, bring your books, too, if you have them."

[onceareaper.livejournal.com]

He is fast.

He is sneaky.

He is after her...

Um.

Sprinkles.

[theunsmiling]

At least those are not her unmentionables.

She does whap him with her newspaper as he withdraws his hand, though.

Such are the consequences of sprinkle theivery.

[onceareaper.livejournal.com]

"Oh, so very unkind, my dear." He sulks as he pops the stolen sugar in his mouth.

He also invites himself to a seat in her booth.

It's not like she was using all the seats.

[theunsmiling]

"Thievery shall be repaid in kind."

It has gravitas when she says it.

(This does not make it any less ridiculous of a pronouncement.)