Re: Bad Diner: Rory/Claire
If they were not living to see tomorrow, it would be due to deep fried waffle induced heart attacks. Which, all things considered, was not a completely terrible way to go. "Whipped cream and powdered sugar. Toppings are extra. If you want ice cream, all you have to do is bat those pretty eyelashes at the waitress and she will give you whatever you want. But ice cream is for amateurs. I am about to blow your mind, Rory." It was a promise for when the inevitable return of the waitress came. As for the Dalmore? Well, okay, she kind of thought it was sweet that he'd put it away for them to share, but she didn't actually put much more thought into it than that. "If we're burning the world down tonight, there is a lot to do before the whiskey. Or after." Tone was difficult there, bordering on flirtatious innuendo while remaining entirely too serious about the possibility of battle. They both knew where they stood.
Confessions always hit her deeper than they should. "Hey," her glittered boot tapped against the side of his foot under the table, and that steel gaze softened fast across the table from him, "It didn't sound like you. But people were out shooting at anything that moved. I was relieved when you showed up unharmed." Because she worried about basically everyone and everything, and his radio silence meant anything could have happened. "I thought it was more likely you had been taken again." The idea of the chip in his head bothered her more than she liked to admit. A small sigh, reluctant to say more about her concerns. It was a dangerous enough game twisting his arm into being her friend without going full on mother hen on him. "Do you remember anything, or were you-"
Claire's own intimate little confessions were interrupted by the waitress, and the arrival immediately pushed Claire back in the booth to seem like she was not having some personal conversation. It did not work that way, only making it more obvious, but she tried and wasn't that the point? "Two deep fried waffles," she ordered for them both, then added the pièce de résistance with a wink in Rory's direction. "And that piece of chocolate cream pie." Claire pointed to the dessert fridge that held a rather spectacular selection of four entirely different store bought pies. The waitress toddled off to get their order ready if Rory didn't have anything else to add, while Claire smirked back across the table at him like a kitten caught with the cream. The order said she had done this before, and she had absolutely no regrets. "The lemon meringue just isn't as good a topping as it sounds." Yeah, they probably wouldn't live to see tomorrow.