Who: Jason and Death What: Wedding planning, possibly Warnings: Remarkably few.
It was very possible that New York housed more restaurants than people. Jason, whose very being demanded that he eat far more than any person should have to deal with, had been to many of them. Some in the guise of a food critic, some while he needed a pick-me-up during Superhero Time, and even a few while he was on a date with the woman he loved. And his favorite was in a small building before him.
While five-star restaurants could succeed or fail on the whim of a lone food critic in the city, diners like this were forever. It was the kind of place that served breakfast all day, since there was no point in the day that someone somewhere wasn't only just waking up. If it had a name, Jason wasn't aware of it; everyone who went there simply took to calling it The Diner, the capital letters falling in place as audibly as an accent.
Gloria was there, he noticed when he entered. She was always there, as if she'd come with the building. It was possible she had some mutant power that allowed her to go without rest and simply gain nourishment from waiting tables. "Hey, Gloria," said Jason. He took a seat at a booth that always seemed to be "theirs". Sometimes "they" were Death and Jason, sometimes it was the group of reapers, sometimes it was Jason and Cass. The booth had acquired part of the essence of the strange clique that he was a part of.
"Hiya, sweetie, be right with ya." Gloria was one of those waitresses that eschewed the use of a notebook (claiming they were for the weak) and instead did every order by memory. This always invited a certain type of jackass to try to confuse her, which never worked. After shouting the order of the last table to the back, she made her way over to Jason. "Hey, baby. The usual?"
"Nah, maybe I'll try something different today. You have blueberry waffles?"
"I'm insulted you'd even ask."
Jason smirked. "I'll take three of 'em. With strawberry sauce. And a large orange juice, extra pulp. A lot of extra pulp. Oh, and a chocolate waffle with peanut butter for the lady."
"You'll see. And a hot chocolate."
Jason sat patiently as Gloria shouted the chef into deafness, or as patiently as Jason ever did anything. A few minutes later, Jason's overly large order was placed before him, including a glass of orange juice so thick that it probably would have been less effort to suck up an orange. "Where've you been all my life, Gloria?"
"Married with grandchildren, sweetie." She pinched his cheek and went to take another order.
Jason waited for a moment, then pushed the hot chocolate and chocolate waffle across the table and said, "I'm getting married, you know."