InsaneJournal

As a rule, Imogen tended to avoid confrontation. She was quiet and sensitive by nature, usually to the point of people taking advantage of her. But right now she was absolutely fuming. She tended to give people the benefit of the doubt, had convinced herself that most people were innately good if you gave them the chance. But that was before she'd been tricked into visiting a museum so Sam and his inner-idiot could wake up the parasite that had been sleeping quite harmlessly at the back of her head.

She gritted her teeth as she strode along the sidewalk, arms wrapped firmly around her middle. She wore jeans and a shirt - she wasn't a fan of wearing her uniform on walks through the city, and thanks for a few weeks off she couldn't justify getting public transport in. She she'd walked over the bridge and through the various shortcuts she knew like the back of her hand until the Diner popped into view.

Sam wasn't here yet. Perhaps he wouldn't come at all. Imogen glanced at her watch - she was bang on time, so she sighed and leaned back against the piece of wall beside the diner wall to stew and wait for him to show.