Safe and Sane

Someone in the cafe definitely had a resource of obscure holidays. This Wednesday fell on National Aviation Day, and one of the members of staff had obviously decided it was a good idea to mark it, but hadn't been quite sure how. Several model airplanes sat on top the counter and were suspended from the ceiling, swaying gently in the draft from the AC vents, with no explanation at all.

Fade wandered into the club, grinning like a very satisfied cat. He headed behind the bar, got a towel and cracked ice out of an ice tray into it, then went to half sprawl on a couch, makeshift ice pack pressed against the spectacular hand print that was blossoming around his throat.

The holidays never calmed Fade down. If anything, they made his itch to roam worse. He wasn't good at the warm and fuzzy family celebration sort of thing. Being invited to people's homes for dinner damned near gave him hives.

So while he wasn't quite pacing in the common room of the club, he had that sort of energy around him. Wired and ready to go...somewhere.

Fade claimed a space in the common room, laid down on the floor and read through checklists. They were littered around him, kind of like leaves. And he was chuckling and talking to himself. "Yeehaw!"

Wednesday night again. Fall past, and winter setting in with a vengeance. The outside tables had been cleared away, and the cafe was doing a brisk trade in hot chocolate, hot soup, and hot tea.

Only one problem.

The coffee maker was broken.

For one night only (because the repair man had been threatened, on pain of pain, to get the damn thing up and running again before opening time the next morning) the cafe was a coffee-free zone, and the staff were already looking stressed.

Fade stepped through the door from the street, paused long enough to take a look around, and let the door swing shut behind him. He had a hoodie on beneath a denim jacket and he shoved his hands in the pockets, stepping in further.

"Nice. Very nice."