Chapter 2 - The RestaurantEdit
He pulls up front and gets out, it was a fairly nice restaurant, made sense considering how many rich people lived in the area. He grabbed his messenger bag and the keys. "We're here, make sure you don't leave anything in the car, it would look funny if we don't have the valet park it for us."
She rolls her eyes and grabs her bag, "Thanks for the tip, Captain Obvious." She opens the door and steps out of the car and takes a look around, smiling politely at the valet who tries to offer her a hand a bit too late. She glances around at what seems to be your normal restaurant on the expensive side. She realizes that Lance was right, their car almost seems too plain surrounded by lux sports cars.
He tosses the keys to the valet and palms some money for an extravagant tip and mumbles something in roughly passable <insert appropriate language here> about keeping an eye on his car. Then catches up to Kat and puts on the loving boyfriend routine. Nothing over the top or too "western" that would put people on edge, but enough that it would be clear they were together. Holding her hand, opening the door for her, little things like that. Once in and seated on the balcony he alternates between looking at the menu and checking out the lavish compound below them. At one point on the menu he leans over to Kat and points at something, "Do you remember what this means?" He scratches his head with his free hand, this <insert language> wasn't one he was ever able to pick up in any real way, he could converse, but reading it usually ended up giving him a headache.
She lets him hold her hands and contributes by throwing him her sweetest smiles, occasionally leaning into him as they wait to be seated. If she has to be honest with herself, some of that wasn't an act, most of the blushing, for example. Annoyed, she takes a glance at the menu, but as soon as she sees that they serve western food, too, opts to subtly look at the compound. "Hmm?" she turns her eyes back to him, biting back a gasp -- she hadn't heard him move closer. Damn it, Miller, focus. She reads the line he's pointing at with her eyebrows furrowed. "Marinated, I think." She leans in to have a closer look, Arabic was an interesting language, but while she liked talking in Arab, reading it was a completely different issue. "Yeah, marinated. Chicken marinated in...traditional? Traditional spices, served with rice or bread."
He nods and mumbles a thanks and decides to just order it as he didn't want to look like he actually couldn't remember how to read most of the menu. While alternatively drinking his water and trying to act doey eyed and into his "girlfriend", he also keeps an eye on the compound below, mentally counting guards, looking for security cameras, guard dogs, estimating how high the fences were, and potential entrances and exits into the back side of the compound.
She orders the same, plus a salad, and starts telling him some fake story as they wait for their food, all the while going through the same process he is. As it gets darker, she sees a guard coming out of one of the buildings with a Doberman on a leash, followed by two more. She continues in a more hushed tone, turning to her 'boyfriend' as they set the dogs free. "I don't do well with dogs. They hate me."
"Well did you give them an offering? You can't go up against dogs empty handed, well unless you've got other tricks up your sleeve, like an offering to Ares first. I realise there are other's with the dog as their symbol, but Ares seems a bit more interested in helping those in our line of work. You'd think Hades would, but with so many souls entering his realm every day any way, one more doesn't seem that special. Of course if you have any children with you of any of the gods that have dog as a symbol, you're also good to go. For this excursion I got my Hecate friend to set us up." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out one of two large funny looking coins, the size of half dollars, and tosses Kat one. "These are set up to put any animals, and animals only not humans, within 50 yards from us into a deep and sudden sleep."
She catches the coin and turns it between her fingers, examining it closely. A coy smile finds its way to her face as she pockets the magical item. "This is great," she says just as their waiter walks up to them. "Oh, finally. Honey, the food is here."
He smiles back and adds, "I'm glad you like the souvenir I got you, I know how you prefer these types of, what do you call them, artefacts of historical curiosity or something?" he smiles and figures it would do well not to forget the part he was playing, with them so close to their mark it was quite possible men that worked for this guy came here to eat, as he heard the guy paid quite well especially to his bodyguards, and it was impossible to tell which were demigods and which were clear sighted mortals until the attack was already on top of you. He'd even heard rumour that this guy had someone in his hire who had the ability to read any mind for any threat 500 meters off. He digs into his food once it's set, nods to the waiter, palming him some bills he mumbles something about the best the house had for champagne, that they were celebrating their one year anniversary together. Once the waiter was out of ear shot he shot a glance back at Kat, "Just take small sips and when no one's looking pour some over the rail or into the flowers, but if people around think we're tipsy and drunk we can get more information, but they have to believe we're drunk."
She watches the waiter leave before starting to eat, practically attacking the salad. "This is not my first job," she says in a sing-song voice. It was her worst pet peeve, people treating her like she was an amateur, even if they didn't really mean to, but this isn't the first time he gives her obvious instructions. She returns to her food with an eye-roll.
He shrugs, "Well you seemed pretty offended when I took a couple of drinks earlier." He pauses and switches his focus to the compound where he notices a guard by a water fountain making the water move and form shapes. "And besides just having done jobs before doesn't mean much, at least to me, cuz I've only heard some stuff about it second hand. I'd rather see you in action before judging how true their critiques were and I find in this line of work it's best to err on the side of caution and make sure we're on the same page, then presume someone I just met a few hours ago does her jobs the same way I do mine and end up dead cuz of it." He goes back to watching the guy moving the water, hard to say what type of water god might be his parent, but he looked to be early 20s, rather short, maybe only 5'9 wearing. With the sun setting and him in mostly black clothes, from this distance it was hard for him to get a truly accurate take on his muscle/weight. He decides against mentioning it to Kat, he wasn't really in the mood for her to snap at him again just for being cautious and thorough with someone he's never worked with before. She clearly had never done jobs with anyone before, unless it was someone she'd already known for a long time.
She smirks, "So you do always talk so much. Don't worry. You'll 'see me in action'," she does that air quote thing, "soon enough." She returns to her food and smiles at the waiter when he comes back with their champagne. She says thank you in awkward-I-read-a-tourist-guide-twenty-minutes-ago-and-want-to-show off Arab, really horrible pronunciation that would make her cringe if she heard it from someone else. As he uncorks the bottle, she takes a glance at the compound. One of the perks of being a daughter of one of the underworld goddesses -- she still isn't quite sure which one is her mother -- is perfect vision even as it gets darker, and she's quick to notice that more guards have shown up. Locating the one who's obviously a demigod, she tries to find any other 'suspicious' activity, but he seems to be the only one as of yet. She casually turns her eyes back to what's happening around the table and the waiter graciously hands her a flute glass.
Wow, so this was going to definitely be interesting, she seemed to be overcompensating perhaps for being younger, or being a girl, or maybe because she was around him and knew he was older and had more experience, but to make such a presumption that he 'always' talked 'so' much based on a couple of sentences, when they were actually supposed to look like they were on an intimate and happy anniversary, which usually involves speaking, rather annoyed him. He always had a thing with people who made broad assumptions on so little information. Though he knew his instincts told him not to use that to judge her abilities, it wasn't easy swallowing his annoyance and letting it go. Despite the fact part of him would have loved to get into an argument over it, another part of him told him to suck it up and at least wait. Perhaps having a heated argument with his 'wife' would do them well later on while they were supposed to be drunk, so instead he decides to try for a subtle clue hoping she picks up on the plan to fight while "drunk" in a bit. "OK honey, whatever you say, it's our anniversary, can we please not get into any arguments tonight?" He gives a quick wink that only she'd be able to see.
"I'm sorry, babe," she fakes a pout and takes a sip of her champagne, "you're right." She thinks she knows what he's planning, but she also couldn't help but wonder if what she'd said earlier, about his blabbering, bothered him at least a little. She stood by what she'd said, however, and wouldn't hesitate to continue fighting with him if it came to it later. The waiter leaves them after setting the bottle into the ice container thingie and she waits for a few moments, before putting her glass down and letting her smile drop. "How fast do you want me to get drunk? Did you see the water demigod over there? What is your plan?"
He looks around, "Haven't see any others yet, but of course it would make sense they'd station a water one outside closest to plenty of pools and fountains, less he has to conjure himself, more strength he has to deal with threats. If we could be sure he was the only demigod, I'd say we move tonight but we don't know that yet." He shrugs and looks back over towards where the waiter might becoming from, to be sure he had talked quietly enough that no one noticed the topic.
She nods and talks in between bites, "Agreed. I was thinking -- we should go to the casino later."
He nods as he finishes his meal, but before he can respond the waiter comes to clear his plates and ask if he wants dessert, he orders some type of ice cream thing or other, he wasn't entirely sure, but it gave them more time to watch the place from their current vantage point. Once the waiter was gone again, "It's a week day so if we wait long enough I doubt it'll be crowded tonight, then maybe we fight, and you could take off with the car, get closer to the compound and see if you can find out more by being a helpless girl with a flat tire who just fought with her husband. I'll take whatever distraction you cause on that side of the compound and lurk around the other side, then we can meet back at the hotel."
She orders a fruit salad and takes quick bites while listening to him, nodding frequently. "Got it," she says once he's finished. She takes a small sip of her champagne, then carefully spills some of it in the plant next to her when she knows no one's watching. "What do we fight about? If it even matters what we fight about, really. Maybe --" she chews on her lip thoughtfully, going through plausible scenarios in her head.
He shrugs, "I'm sure you'll come up with something, just pretend to be one of those irrational rich spoiled bitches that fights about anything and everything." He grins and finishes his ice cream. He might not be a hundred percent sure if he trusted or liked Kat yet, but he was VERY sure that she probably knew the type of girlie personality he was referring to, and that normally she'd be nothing like that and even abhor those that were, but those types were always good at one thing, coming up with preposterous things to fight about at a moment's notice without any warning.
A grin slowly appears on her face as she leans a little forward. "Think we're about ready to go?" An idea had occurred to her as he spoke -- of course she knew the type of girl he was talking about. "I'm gonna need your phone."
He raises an eye brow and then discreetly slides his mobile across the table to her. "Anything you need love, I aim to please." He gives a wink and lightly taps his foot to hers under the table giving her a signal that he's definitely ready. He had to admit, he was actually looking forward to her performance, he was quite sure she'd nail the routine of course, but something about a hot girl yelling at him always turned him on, got his blood pumping. He should be mentally slapping himself for those thoughts, and he immediately turned his mind towards his steps after she stormed out. Of course she'd be taking the only car, so he'd pretend to call a cab perhaps, though he had seen a Ducati bike near the employee entrance when they came in. Perhaps he could just steal that instead, it was nearly 10pm, so if it was there it would clearly be someone working the late shift and not paying attention to what was going on outside.
With a wink back, she pockets his phone and slowly stands up. "I won't be a minute, love, I just need to freshen up," she says, slurring just a little bit. She blows him a kiss and makes her way into the restaurant; she takes his phone out of her pocket about half way inside, pretending to take a cautious look over her shoulder to see if he's looking, Kat comes to an abrupt halt and lets out a shriek loud enough to catch pretty much anyone's attention. She turns and walks back to their table with quick strides. "What the fuck is this, Jackson?! Why are you texting that whore again?!" she shouts, practically shoving his phone in front of his face. Of course, she didn't even try to get past whatever protection he had on it, so it's showing just the lock screen, but judging by the murmurs coming from the other tables, her plan worked well enough.
He rolls his eyes, "Please, like I'm going to fall for that, there can't possibly be any text messages from Jessica, you probably just got your slut of a friend Julia to send that pretending to be Jessica." He makes it look like he's trying extra hard to contain his temper, but slowly failing at it.
She gapes at him, "Did you just--?" She starts speaking faster and louder by the second, "Don't you dare call Jules a slut while you text your dumb, pretty Jessica, Jack!" Her acting is on point -- she even tears up by the end. "This always happens, do you think a fancy dinner will make this okay?"
He chuckles, "Well of course not, that's why I also got you the diamond necklace worth a fortune and that designer bag worth more than some automotbiles. And don't forget all the house renovations I've let you do and the fact I keep a driver and houseful of servants at your beck and call, all that I Pay for." He emphasises the fact he pays for it all, like she should just be grateful she has what she does. "Besides, maybe if you actually put out once and awhile instead of always saying you're too busy or you have a headache, I wouldn't have ever had to go find comfort in someone else's arms."
Seemingly lost for words, she glares at him and reaches for her half full champagne flute and attempts to splash it across his face.
He doesn't flinch and picks up a napkin, slowly wiping off what bits actually managed to get onto his face and shirt. "I realise we were going through a rough time a year ago when my indiscretion happened, and I realise it wasn't your fault you miscarried again, but it wasn't my fault either, but did that matter to you?!?! No, you treated me like shit, shut me out, I was grieving too and Jessica was there for me. I've apologised more times than I can count, but a year later and you're still punishing me." He generally tried not to use real life things in these situations, but the more he yelled at her, the more memories of his girl friend a few years earlier miscarrying their child only days before they were supposed to be married. She couldn't handle the loss and overdosed on pills a week after that. Somehow this fight was quickly leading into a direction that was hitting that raw nerve he kept buried deep down.
She notices the change in the way he speaks almost instantly and flatters a little, knowing that at least part of his speech must've happened to him. She lowers her busy hand and frowns deeply, actually not knowing how to react to any of that, then decides to settle on the easiest option and bursts into tears.
He tries to glare, but the tears actually seem more real than he was expecting, and with his sudden mix of emotions he isn't sure at first how to deal with it, "You are not doing this again, you need serious help and I'm sick of being your punching bag. Maybe I should leave you for Jessica, at least she talks to me like a civilised human being." He sighs slams up from the table knocking over drinks and rattling plates in the process. "I'm going out for a smoke." He grumbles and heads out to the veranda in the opposite direction she would soon be going to the car. His jacket was still slung over the back of his chair with his keys in the pocket.
"Happy baby making with Jessica!" she half yells half sobs at his back. In a very dramatic move, she grabs the champagne bottle, retrieves the car keys from his jacket pocket, drops them, swears as she bends to pick them up, and generally makes as big a fuss as possible before storming out of the restaurant, wiping her eyes, purposely smearing her mascara more, figuring it will help when she plays poor dumb drunk bimbo with car trouble later. On the way out, she can't help but think back to the things Lancelot said. She finds her self wishing to talk with him about it, because he seemed to need it, but knows better than to bring it up, ever.
After a reasonable amount of time 'clearing his mind' out on the veranda, he went back in, acting tipsy and angry, even slurring his words a bit. He puts his jacket on and when he finds the keys missing, which of course he expected, he starts swearing and cussing and acting pissed about it. To the point that the restaurant manager has to have him escorted out for his 'drunken behaviour'. Once out he makes for the back where he'd seen the bike, with plans to 'borrow' it for a bit.