Work Text:
Everyone Needs to Eat
by Kelli/Nessa5
The La Petite Dinner tried to look like a French street cafe; unfortunately it just looked a bit tacky. Yellow umbrellas covered black iron tables coved with yellow and white checkered table cloths. After dark the tables were lit with candles in old jelly jars on the tables and strings of twinkle white lights wrapped around all the potted shrubs that separated the dinning area from the sidewalk.
Despite its tacky appearance it had the best pasta in two counties, and even on this weeknight the place was full. Two waiters in their white shirts and black paints and yellow aprons stood near the kitchen door taking a short brake before making the next round of their tables to refill water glasses and coffee cups. Max had been working at this dinner for a few years, he knew all the regulars. Sam was new; he'd only been there a week. "We sure get an odd mix of people here." Sam said to Max.
"I agree. I know who some of them are though." He answered, and pointing to a middle aged bald man in a business suit he said, "That man there, he works for the FBI." Max pointed to another man a few tables away wearing a black trench coat and sun glasses, even though it was after dark, "That man is his underground contact. If you watch closely, sometime before he leaves he will pass that brief case to the other man."
Sam looked at Max in disbelief, "You're full of it." He declared and left to make his next round.
The next time they met up Sam pointed to a very handsome man in his late twenties with brown hair talking to another younger man with very white hair and eye so blue eyes they could see the color from where they were. "If that man over there is an FBI agent then that man there," pointing to you white haired man "is a vampire and the other is his lover."
"What makes you think that?"
"They only ordered one drink and no meal"
"Good reason, but you got it wrong, the brown haired man is the vampire and the white haired man is his servant." Max said.
"I still say there lovers." Sam shrugged.
"No, the white haired man has his own lover. And the brown haired man is flirting with the blond over there with that group of women. A word of advice; if he starts flirting with you, turn him down."
Sam sneered, "If he makes a pass at me, I'll punch him in his face. I don't swing that way. And I still say you're full of it." But because he was enjoying the game he pointed to another table where two other men were sitting. One was big with blue eye and a crew cut. He was quite a contrast to his companion, who was much smaller by contrast and had long dark bushy hair pulled in a ponytail. "Those two are plotting to rob the bank. Or go hit on the two chicks over at that table, I haven't deduced which yet."
The two women, one a perky petite red head and the other taller with long dark hair were openly holding hands across the table and not paying attention to much else.
Max snorted the water he'd been drinking out his nose. "I don't know who the girls are but I can tell you from here, guys don't stand a chance with them. As for those two," he nodded toward the first men Sam had pointed to. "That's Blare and Jim. Jim is a police officer. And I'd be careful what you say about him, he can hear you from there."
"Now I know you're full of it. How could he hear us from there?"
"I don't know, but he can." At that Max picked up the coffee pot and looked at Jim without raising his voice." A refill sir?" he said respectfully. When Jim nodded Sam nearly dropped his jaw.
It wasn't until Max got back with the now empty coffee pot that he said, "You jerk, he saw you pick up the pot and look at him."
Max unconcerned "Suit yourself." but before he could go on he stopped Sam with a hand on his chest and when Sam looked at him funny he put a finger to his lips and pointed to the bald man "watch." They watched as the man in the trench coat paid his bill and left leaving the brief case on the ground under the table. A few moments latter the bald man got up and appeared to be heading for the men's room. But he chose his path to pass beside the recently vacated table, and his hand just so accidentally knocked over a water glass. He bent to pick up the fallen glass and also picked up the abandoned brief case before continuing to the men's room.
Sam gave Max a wide eyed look and went to make he's rounds without saying anything more. He kept a look out for when the bald man came back to his table; he didn't have the brief case. Sam was lucky enough to look out just in time to see red headed woman and a taller man in a similar trench coat walking down the sidewalk carrying a case suspiciously like the one the bald man had carried away. He look questioningly at Max, Max just smiled back at him.
A little while latter Sam noticed that there was a third person sitting with the brown haired man and the white haired man. He hadn't seen the person come in and could only see that the person was slender with long straight black hair and even sitting down and seen from behind was as gracefully as a cat.
The waiter's whose table it was, was on a brake and he was covering it. He took a glass of ice water and menu for the late arrival and was a bit put out to find out the new comer was a guy. While he was the brown haired man decided to leave, but before he left he reminding the white haired man of some jobs that needed to be done the next day, making it clear who worked for whom. And just because the brown haired man went straight for the blond he'd been looking at earlier didn't mean he was a vampire. Meanwhile the two men at the table became as absorbed in each other as the two women had been earlier. He quickly squashed his disgust forced himself to take their order with a smile. He knew it was a double standard but the two women holding hands didn't squeaked him the way two men did.
After he took the order to the kitchen his shift was over. He briefed his replacement on his tables and went to change his clothe before going home. It had been a long day and his feet were hurting. On his way out of the building he was doubly glad that he was leaving. Just coming in the front door was an older man with a limp and a cane and a five o-clock shadow, with him was clean cut gentleman with a nice smile. He smirked, thinking it was fitting payback that they were going to be Max's problem. He'd waited on them before; the older one could be a cantankerous old cuss.