Welcome

[Jack Scoleri]

Having finished dusting his last remaining pans, kneaded tomorrow's dough, and added the final touches to the lattice of his cherry pie, Jack rubbed his chin looking for any other tasks that remained before he was left tending the diner virtually alone when Marie got off at twelve. The long hours didn't bother him (naturally- given his condition) but finishing up his tasks in the kitchen before the late shift ended helped give him a little extra time should he need it before the early morning shift arrived. Plus, finishing up with his tasks early gave him more time to "alter" his creations without an onlooker.

He could hear Marie dawdling over the register, and decided he might as well get started early. Checking the kitchen to be sure of privacy once more, he quickly grabbed one of the kitchen knifes and brought it down on his wrist, letting the blood flow momentarily into one of the saucepans before quickly removing his wrist and wrapping a kitchen towel around it. When he removed it a moment later, no trace of the wound was left.

Throwing the towel to the floor, Jack sniffed at the sauce, trying to decide if the proportions were right as he hurried to add more sugar, some strawberries, and a pinch of cinnamon. He was pretty sure the amount of blood he had added was just enough to give the sauce's consumer the slight boost in taste, smell, and sense without the more unusual effects a vampire's blood produced, but he couldn't be sure.

One of the strawberry cheesecakes was just about to go out, and Jack seized upon the chance to experiment. Grabbing up the slice, he added some of the sauce to it, and then swung open the kitchen door.

"Number eight!" he called, before quickly spotting the order number near a customer seated by the counter. Setting it down before them with a half smile, he retreated to the coffee machine behind the counter, fiddling with the dials as he snuck a glance at the customer, waiting for a reaction.

[Cece Archer]

((OoC: after finally remembering to log into the correct account))

Dining at midnight was not something Cee was accustomed to, truth be told, she tended to avoid eating in diners all together specifically ones that were open for 24 hours. That night, had been a definite exception. Downing what felt like galleons of past-it’s-used-by-date sleeping drought had done little to induce sleeping in the nerve wracked girl. In fact it could be argued the less than appealing taste (even if she had bought the raspberry flavoured one from the apothecary) actually made the task of dozing off that much more difficult.

Wringing her fingers Cece checked her watch one more time and tried to will herself into drowsiness to little result. She was expecting an owl back from “Which witch?” (A rather snotty, but oh so fabulous, gossip magazine) concerning her application for an internship. In normal circumstances Cee wouldn’t have been nearly so stressed but the combination of her many long hours at café that was frequented by horrible tippers and wistfully staring after her friends with ‘real jobs’ had caused her urge to leave the catering industry to flourish in the weeks following her application.

"Number eight!"

Looking up as her number was called Cece responded to the man’s half smile with one of her own before grabbing for a fork and digging in.

It was, hands down, the most amazing cheesecake she had ever eaten. Pausing for a second to take in the delicious desert in front of her, and the probability of kissing whoever had bought it into her life she sighed. Leaning her face on her hand she scooped up another forkful and was about to enjoy it wholeheartedly when something in her mind clicked. The face of the man who had bought the dish into her life seemed almost familiar. Turning her gaze from staring absentmindedly past the counter she sent a curious look at the young man who know appeared to be doing something with a coffee machine.

“Hm” she hummed thoughtfully to herself bringing the cheese cake to her mouth once more and devouring it, the curiosity was beginning to burn through her in a way she didn’t think she had felt since, well at least the last week. “hm” She hummed quietly again before she put down her fork, inwardly debated for a second and addressed the desert bringer.

“Excuse me” She said with a friendly smile “at the risk of sounding like I’m trying to pick you up, have we met?”

[Jack Scoleri]

Fumbling with the coffee filter, Jack pulled it in and out at least twice (receiving a few strange looks from Marie in doing so) as he listened to the sounds issuing from the customer at the counter. Thankfully, his curiosity was quickly appeased as the slight scrap of metal against vinyl prompted him to turn around.

The girl had the first forkful of the cheesecake in her mouth, seemed blissfully happy, and was already going for another bite. She wasn't attempting to sniff the air, lick the counter, or trying to do summersaults (thankfully- Jack had already learned the err of too much blood many trials ago) so he decided to count the experiment as a success. Grinning, he plumed himself on his victory and made a mental note to remember that three seconds of blood flow seemed to be just the right amount.

His grin quickly disappeared as Marie threw her apron on the counter and announced she was leaving for the night with an abrupt, "I'm out Scoleri" and a loud smack of her gum. Frowning as his coworker threw the register key to him then punched open the door and sauntered out, Jack reached for the apron and deposited the key in his pocket. Cheating death was fine and all, he decided, but some days it just doesn't seem quite worth it when you have to work an all night shift with a gum chewing git. Having to associate with Harry, Reginald, and a variety of drunks and late night weirdoes every day, day after day with very little variety also didn't help matters.

Picking up the still wet towel Marie had been using, Jack absentmindedly began to clean the counter as he glumly contemplated his situation. It's not that I don't like them, but an eternity of having to listen to Harry's plans to "put Reginald in his place" or "get Reginald to lighten up" or "get Reginald to enjoy a little 'adult' company" isn't exactly what I...

“Excuse me at the risk of sounding like I’m trying to pick you up, have we met?”

Blinking hard, Jack looked over at the girl who had ordered the cheesecake, staring at her as if seeing her for the first time. Somewhat embarrassed, and already rusty from a long running lack in small talk (conversation with Harry usually devolved into talking about movies, ladies, baseball, polka, or nasty jokes all too quickly) he reached up to rub the (now permanent) cowlick at the back of his head nervously before answering.

"I- don't think so? I mean, I really don't go out that often, usually it's just work, home, work, home..." Jack let himself trail off, and gave the counter another swipe. Looking back up at the girl, he studied her for a second.

He was pretty sure he didn't recognize her, but at the same time he didn't want to give up such an easy opportunity for normal conversation, an opportunity which was only enhanced in Jack's mind by the thought that maybe the girl was trying to pick him up. "You know," he said, tilting his head contemplatively as he edged slightly closer to her end of the counter with his rag, "you do look kinda familiar though. Do you work around here?"

[Cece Archer]

Looking a little disappointed as the young man responded Cece put another forkful of the cheese cake in her mouth. Her pervious feelings of curiosity not sated. She did notice however that the cake appeared to doing wonders on her nerves. Interesting. She swallowed her previous mouthful and considered saying something along the lines of ‘oh well, never mind’ to the apron clad male when he spoke once more.

“Oh yeah I work sort of near here, though I don’t think you’d know it, it’s not really frequented by the most savoury of people” Cece said conversely crossing her legs and leaning on the bench fiddling a little with her fork. She didn’t think she was really lying, if by ‘non savoury people’ she meant ‘horrible tippers’.

Glancing at his face, trying not to look like she was staring she narrowed her eyes in thought.

“But I don’t think that’s it” she grabbed another forkful of her cheesecake “Do you live around here? Because I’m only a few streets away” She was aware that the statement sounded much too close to a pick up line for comfort but chose to ignore it.

[Jack Scoleri]

Jack's face assumed it's usually air of polite attention as he listened to the customer's replies. He continued rubbing down the counter as he did so, trying to appear somewhat professional as he listened. Jack nodded as she told him she did work in the area, although his eyebrows shot up slightly when she mentioned that it was a place "not really frequented by the most savoury of people.”

Immediately, (albeit rather unfortunately) Jack thought of the nearby "gentleman's club" which Harry always tried to goad him into going into visiting whenever he joined him on his walk to work. Usually, the goading was directed towards Reginald (when he rarely accompanied them), or was for his benefit (since Harry well knew that Jack would eventually tell Reginald about his actions), since there was no way that Jack could be around that many writhing, attractive young women without some unnecessary biting taking place- a fact which Harry well knew.

Tilting his head, Jack wondered if the girl was one of the "ladies" the club so prominently advertised on their billboards outside. He tried to recall the posters tacked up alongside the club's walls, wondering if one of them was her. She doesn't look like Sally Bearse or Kitty Galore- but then, she's also not wearing leather or ostrich feathers... at least, not NOW.

However, reminding himself that the whole area around the diner was pretty much a sea of unsavory people and places, Jack quickly dismissed such a possibility as ludicrous. Despite the fact that it would have been interesting to inform Harry and Reginald that he met a stripper at work, the girl in front of him clearly didn't look the type. Looking up from his cleaning, he grinned sheepishly at the girl as he glanced significantly at the diner's peeling wallpaper near the doorway. "I know what you mean," he replied, wryly, "It's not exactly the most appealing area to work in."

Watching as she forked another bite of cheesecake into her mouth, he threw the rag down and reached down below the counter for the containers of napkins usually kept there. Grabbing the metal napkin dispenser nearest the girl, which was half empty, he opened it and began refilling it, shoving the squares of paper into place.

“Do you live around here? Because I’m only a few streets away.”

Raising his head slowly from his task, Jack stared at the girl. His mind was quick to reconsider his original idea of her occupation, and he colored as he did so. He still wasn't quite sure if her remark was simply polite or aimed at picking him up (either as a paying customer or a fling), and he was clearly ill at ease.

"No," he answered, baldly. "I don't. If possible, I live in an even worse part of town." Deciding to quickly change the subject, he gestured to her plate. "So," he said, trying to sound cheerful and efficient, "how's the pie?"

[Cece Archer]

She had made him uncomfortable. Suppressing a somewhat amused grin, complete with raised eyebrows she took in his response, tossing up whether or not to toy with the clearly embarrassed young man or keep her mouth shut and continue chowing down on her desert.

"how's the pie?"

The abrupt change in topic lead to a suppressed chuckle as Cece continued to mull over her dilemma for a moment, deciding, in a moment of charity to spare his embarrassment and continue with the cordial a bright tone he had taken up.

“Oh it’s just terriff!” Her voice almost becoming a parody of the one he had used before she dropped it and continued “but seriously, the sauce is amazing” Taking another mouthful and allowing it to sit in her mouth for a second she felt her mood lift as she inwardly marvelled at the taste. It was really was wonderful. Trying to lift the somewhat forced mood she had instigated with her response she swallowed continuing to speak “You haven’t slipped anything into this have you?” she joked “I mean this part of town the very least I’d be expecting a light dose of Xanex to keep the customers coming back”

Finishing up the last of her cheesecake she considered asking for another but changed her mind at the last minute. She was no closer to becoming tired, so the only logical way she saw getting through the evening (bar drinking herself into such a state that passing out was inevitable) was coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.

“Hey could I grab a coffee while I’m here?”

[Harry Scoleri]

Peering into the varied selection of magazines, newspapers, and even the odd paperback, Harry scratched his head, taking his time about making a selection. The newsstand vendor, glancing at his watch and then up at the drizzling night sky- which was threatening to turn into rain at any moment, was obviously becoming annoyed, and a huff of impatience issued from the man. Looking up, Harry half shrugged, and continued reading from a cheap mass produced paperback, bending back the next page as he flipped through the book in such a way that the watching shopkeeper just knew it would become dog eared. The man's frown quickly deepened at the gesture.

"Damnit!" he muttered, slamming the book shut, "That son of a bitch!" Throwing down a few bills and an assortment of change, Harry finally addressed the owner. "I'll take this piece of shit, the French Playboy with the redhead, and a Herald." Waiting as his choices were quickly packaged by a jubilant shopkeeper, Harry glanced over at the diner across the street.

As if right on cue, the very pierced, very tattooed, and very sagging peroxide blonde who usually tended the counters charged out the door. Harry watched in mild fascination as she spit her gum at the diner, and waltzed off down the sidewalk, her pleather skirt twitching briskly behind her. Harry's eyebrows raised slightly in a gesture of mild appreciation for the sight, and he half shrugged before turning back to collect his purchases.

Grabbing the bag the shopkeeper was impatiently holding out for him, Harry redirected his attention back to the diner. It looked fairly empty, although he could make out a strangler or two at the counter. Still, that didn't pose a significant threat to his plan to spend the night mulling over his latest literary archenemy's hack writing, and spitting coffee back into his cup.

Hurrying across the street just as the already gloomy night sky began to pour, he charged into the diner and headed straight for the counter. Seating himself next to the only other customer at the bar, he unceremoniously dumped out his purchases onto the counter, and took out a slightly damp packet of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. In short succession he quickly tapped one out, inserted it into the corner of his mouth, flicked open his lighter, and began talking as he carelessly moved the lighter towards the cigarette in his mouth, finally succeeding in producing a small cloud of smoke as the thing lit at last. "Jack!" he called, grabbing up a copy of the title that had so interested him at the newsstand and tossing it to him, "Look at this shit! Bastard went and stole my plot!"

[Jack Scoleri]

The look of amusement that had appeared on the girl's face hadn't gone unnoticed, and neither had her mockingly cheerful tone. Neither one particularly offended him, but they did serve their purpose in wiping the cheesy smile off his face and modifying it to the slightest of grins as he rolled his eyes at her imitation of his former manner. "I'm glad you approve." he dryly replied, as she finished complimenting the sauce.

Even if she was a teenage stripper who was blatantly trying to pick him up after her night shift, Jack had to appreciate a customer who actually enjoyed his work. The fact that she was able to express such enjoyment in ways other than trying to run off without paying, leaving him a used needle and couple of pills as a tip, or throwing a coffee cup at his head only increased his pleasure at her positive assessment of his pie.

"You haven’t slipped anything into this have you? I mean this part of town the very least I’d be expecting a light dose of Xanex to keep the customers coming back.”

Slightly taken aback at first, he half glanced at her, quickly realizing she was joking with him again. Laughing, he finished putting the napkins back in place, slamming the metal holder's door shut. "No," he said, with a significant raising of both brows. "There's nothing err... unnaturally enhancing thrown in there. Not that most of the customers who come in here would notice if there were." He snorted and moved to straighten out a line of mugs next to the coffee maker. "Besides," he added, with a teasing grin, "We save the Xanex for our higher priced items."

Suddenly noticing that the girl had already finished her pie, he moved back to the counter to grab her plate. “Hey could I grab a coffee while I’m here?” "Yeah, sure." he answered, distractedly, picking up her plate and moving to place it with the pile of dishes Marie already had waiting to be bussed. Sighing at the size of the stack, he heard the bell above the diner's door clatter as the door swung open, as he moved towards the coffee machine. Grabbing a mug, he filled up a cup for the girl, before turning back around to find Harry seated next to her at the counter.

Warily eyeing him as he tried to light a cigarette (despite the "no smoking" sign posted directly behind the counter) he placed the cup of coffee down before her, and dug around below the counter until he produced a few packets of cream and some sugar to go along with it. Even though he had been waiting for something of the sort to happen ever since he walked in, Jack was still taken aback when Harry flung something at him.

Fumbling with the already tattered paperback he had tossed at him, Jack finally managed to get a hold of it, and he peered down at the book's cover. "Tyrone McClearnoc and the Case of the Murdered, Bi-Curious Centerfold?" He looked questioningly at Harry, fighting hard against the urge to slap his forehead. "You already wrote a book about a murdered, bicurious centerfold?"

With a pained look as he awaited Harry's inevitable affirmation, he turned back to the paying customer. "You need anything else?" he asked, blatantly trying to ignore Harry.

[Cece Archer]

At the reassurance that nothing unnatural had been put into her meal Cee briefly considered asking if perhaps the natural thing he could have put in there was grown hydroponically in the diner’s back rooms but decided against it at the last moment. There was just too greater chance of that actually occurring in the part of town they were in and she would have rather not known.

The sound of the door opening and closing caused little distraction as Cece waited for her coffee. The fact she was soon joined by a man who seemed to be trying to light a cigarette. She hadn’t looked up to notice this, preferring instead to pull her newly acquired mug closer towards her, emptying a sachet of sugar and forgoing the cream. As she slowly brought the coffee to her lips the man next to her spoke and for a moment his voice seemed familiar but she was too busy focusing on the fact that, despite the diner’s stellar deserts, the coffee left quite a bit to be desired.

A cloud of smoke drifted towards her, causing her eyes to water just a little. With some deliberation she waved her hand in front of her face aiming to free the air of the smoke. Looking over to the diner’s currently soul employee she was going to pointedly cough in his direction to get her point across but stopped short when she saw him reading something.

"You already wrote a book about a murdered, bicurious centerfold?"

Eyebrows raised and a little more confused (not to mentioned agitated) than before she took another sip of coffee to steel herself before taking matters into her own hands.

“you know,” she stared down at her drink, slowly changing her gaze “There is a ‘no smoking’ sign” she gestured towards the sign and turned her sight directly on the culprit, her eyes widened slightly as instant mortified recognition course through her before she turned back her coffee once more the recognition turning to muted anger trying her hardest to appear as nonchalant as possible and (thanks to years of passive aggression) managing to pull it off quite well.

[Harry Scoleri]

Exhaling a slow and steady stream of smoke, as he briefly pulled the cigarette from his mouth and tapped the ash onto the counter, Harry raised both brows in a show of incredulity at Jack's question. "No, Jack, I did not write a book about a murdered, bi-curious centerfold." Mildly offended, he guffawed, spewing even more smoke as he did so. "I at least had the decency to make her a chorus girl who dabbled in prostitution." Glancing back down at his cigarette, which was already beginning to dwindle dangerously low, Harry sighed and shook his head.

"You know, there is a ‘no smoking’ sign.” Rolling his eyes at the compliant lodged by his fellow diner, Harry took another long, luxurious drag before bothering to answer. Then exhaling softly, he twisted in his chair to look at the speaker, with a slightly amused smirk that softened his otherwise irritated expression.

"I passed three whores, a crack dealer, and a guy selling guns out of the back of his car to get here, lady. Believe me, this," he held up his cigarette, "should be the least of your worries in this place."

[Jack Scoleri]

Rolling his eyes at Harry's reply, Jack frowned as he grabbed a clean rag and began to polish some of the still damp mugs by the coffee machine. "Clearly," he muttered, "that makes it completely different. What was I thinking?" The fact that sarcasm usually had very little effect on Harry wasn't completely lost on Jack, but he still couldn't help himself.

Glancing sideways to gauge the reaction of the girl seated at the counter, he registered (with a slight degree of alarm) the fact that she was waving off the fumes coming from Harry's direction and coughing. Scratching the side of his neck, Jack avoided making eye contact as he continued to polish the mug, hoping the whole thing would blow over. Confronting Harry about nicotine use was never a wise idea, and almost always tended to end in outbursts and loud and very public proclamations of his "rights."

Relieved to see that the customer was back to concentrating on her coffee, Jack breathed an inner sigh of relief and turned back to the tray of wet cups.

Then she spoke.

"You know, there is a ‘no smoking’ sign.”

Cringing at the train wreck that was about to unfold, Jack turned slowly back around to the pair, hoping against hope that Harry hadn't heard her. She was looking down at her coffee, Harry was still puffing along on his cigarette, could it be that he--

No, he thought as Harry suddenly began to grin, No such luck. Wincing as Harry began to speak, he was quick to intervene in the conversation as soon as Harry finished with his point.

"Yes, right- very dangerous, we get it, Harry." Spitting out his words, he nervously chuckled, smiling a little too widely in his female customer's direction as he moved over to the two, slapping the counter with his rag. "Oh, Harry. What a joker!"

Still in the process of chuckling good-humoredly, he turned back to Harry. " Now, put it out!" Hissing the words, he thrust one of the diner's ubiquitous chipped glass ashtrays under his nose.

[Daphne Popplehale]

A great, dismal cloud hung over Daphne's head. Well over two hours had been spent wandering the dodgy part of town in an attempt to inspire a deep and dark artistic impulse. "Where is my muse?!" she wondered aloud. Her unhappiness was not forceful enough to prevent a small smile from forming as as spoke the word "muse." Daphne felt the epitome of artistic aptitude was the repetition of the word muse in regard to her creative endeavours. A strange man in all dark greens and black looked her way as she practically chanted "muse!" to herself, then he promptly left their shared side walk and crossed the street.

"Art hater!" she cried out in rejection. Daphne had hoped he would finally be the one to try molesting her. She considered following him and forcing his hand to her breast, but reconsidered when her nostrils picked up a sweet scent coming from the building she had nearly neglected to look at.

Like a bloodhound on the trail, Daphne quickly changed her trajectory and shoved the diner's door open dramatically. She allowed her arms to fall limp and her chest to puff out while she sent her nose to trace imaginary wafts of whatever had lured her in. As the second act in her performance prepared to move into the third, she caught sight of the boy behind the counter. "Oh!" Daphne exclaimed. Quietly she commented under breath, "oh, my muse."

Daphne's smile morphed into what she thought was an alluring, come hither grin, but was in practise more of a creepy, semi-spaced out smile. She swivelled her hips as she walked toward the counter, only registering the other woman as a human shaped barrier. Daphne had completely neglected to pay any mind to the bloke next to the blob she had barely considered. All she saw was her sweet, handsome, perfect Adonis! She blushed lightly while picturing his body on top of hers.

"I'll have whatever smells so sweet," she said in breathy tones upon reaching the counter. Daphne leaned in as she spoke to the young man, careful to expose her cleavage to him.

[Cece Archer]

Cece having narrowly avoided violently rolling her eyes at the man but was ultimately thankful that the man behind the counter was finally doing his job. For a moment, as she once more sipped on her coffee, she strained her memory to the night which she had met…Harry? She was a little confused as she came to this realisation, she could vaguely remember the man introducing himself as ‘John’ at the party.

The party.

Anger tinged with a slight bout of mortification welled up as she recalled the ridiculous way she had acted in his presence before something clenched in her gut. The half formed realisation that the man was a vampire seemed a little ludicrous in the badly lit midnight diner but she couldn’t help but remember the information as she stared out of the corner of her eye as subtly as she could manage.

She had just raised her coffee to her mouth when the diner door opened once more. She glanced behind her for a second; out of vague curiosity before snapping her head back around to the man working the counter. A look which she hoped conveyed sympathy was sent towards him as the girl sashayed up to the counter (with a disturbing, glazed over smile on her face) before she returned to half glaring at the other man out of the corner of her eye.

"I'll have whatever smells so sweet,"

Resiting the very strong desire to snort into her coffee, Cece determinedly stared into her drink, for a moment ignoring the righteous indignation she still felt towards Harry as she concentrated on not bursting out in laughter.

[Harry Scoleri]

Sullenly lowering the nearly spent cigarette into the waiting ashtray, he shook his head slowly in Jack's direction. Here he was betraying his maker, the guy who had saved his ass and given him the undeniable invaluable gift of an eternity to contemplate the splendors of Ferris Bueller's Day Off and all for what? Some mousy new age hippie?

With both of his elbows now leaning on the counter, and his chin firmly resting on the palm of his left hand, Harry glanced at the customer whom Jack was apparently so interested in appeasing. She was young, fairly attractive, and with a certain appealing curve of nose that faintly reminded Harry of someone he knew. Unable to pin down the resemblance for the moment, he shrugged. He could see the appeal, and it was pretty clear the boy was starved for female attention, but still...

Harry's attention was momentarily diverted as the door to the diner swung open. Half turning in his chair, he automatically drew in a whiff of air. Immediately, he knew that a) the person who had entered the diner was a woman and b) she smelled like sheets that desperately needed changing, some sort of animal-like musk, and jam. Furthermore, he noted with interest, finally turning to look at the entrant, she was headed straight towards him with a distinctive swaying of hips. Niiiccceee.

Disappointingly, the woman passed him up, wedging herself between himself and the other customer and leaning provocatively across the counter. Sneaking a not so subtle glance at the newcomer's very on display rack, he looked significantly at the target of her display, raising his eyebrows, nodding his head, and grinning wolfishly at him.

Now THIS is more like it.

[Jack Scoleri]

"Right. Sure." Jack mumbled, quickly directing his gaze at the napkin holder instead of her cleavage. Great. Another druggie who probably wants me to give her free food in exchange for flashing me.

More than a little freaked out by the new customer's entrance, particularly her muttered utterance (which he had caught every word of: super hearing wasn't always so great sometimes) and creepy grin, Jack opted to ignore her (and his professional obligations) for the moment to take out his anger on a more appropriate target: Harry. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" he muttered darkly, cutting a slice of pie for the new arrival more forcefully than he might have under different circumstances.

Jack knew very well that he did in fact have somewhere else to be: he had eight pints of O and three pints of AB to buy from Sarah for their monthly supply. Jack himself was far from being able to hunt without killing his target, and had to live by a rigid set of rules (and near hourly breaks for blood) in order to function peacefully near humans. Living by such rules, not only required patience, but a lot of blood as well- more than Harry or even Reginald was able to supply on his own. "Two-Bite Sarah," a vampire who dealt in blood (both human and vampire), usually helped fill the gap with her supplies.

Still keeping his eyes on Harry, Jack moved to grab a plate, a fork, and a small napkin. Finally finished, he presented the pie with a small flourish to the girl, before suddenly remembering the he had forget something. Rubbing his head, as he tried (not very successful) to keep his eyes away from her neckline, he tried to recall what it was. He found himself having a hard time keeping his attention focused on the slice and not on how warm and delicious the girl in front of him was starting to look. Concentrate, Jack. You can take a blood break in a minute. What's the damn thing missing?

Jerking his head upward as he suddenly remembered, he pulled out a can of Ready-Whip from behind the counter. "Whipped Cream?" he asked brightly, holding the nozzle over the girl's dessert.