Life is not a game that has clear and present winner...

[sarkraticmethod]

Who | Julian Sark (sarkraticmethod ) and Veronica Mars (bitch_isback )
What | HE is an international spy and wanted criminal on the lam. SHE is a young former detective, now an FBI agent. TOGETHER? ....They don't fight a lot of crime.
Where | Los Angeles, California; A horrible diner
When | Post-VM S3; Post Alias S2 (AU)
Verse | Belladonna Bourbon

Comments

[bitch_isback]

Veronica should have been happy that this kind of mission landed into her rookie hands. Investigating a dangerous wanted criminal. That's what every girl dreams of, right?

Well, not exactly. While she had done stakeouts a lot worse than this -- ugh, how she wished she could forget about the whole delinquent school girl thing -- she'd also been on more glamorous ones. Ones that didn't involve hanging around sketchy diners hoping to catch a glance at … what was his name? Right. Julian Sark.

Well, here went nothing.

She walked out onto the diner floor, dressed in one of the kitschy retro-throwback waitress outfits, holding a pencil and waitress paper pad in hand. As soon as she spotted Sark's table, she made a beeline over.

"Would you like anything else, sir? Maybe some dessert?" She was all bright smiles.

[sarkraticmethod]

Two things registered to Sark. The first was that this was not the original waitress who'd served him the aforementioned deep-fried monstrosity- see the point about not missing details. This was something an amateur would no doubt write off as a shift-change, but Sark was no believer in coincidence. With a slight loll of his head, he glanced up at her, which brought him to his second thought.

She was... Quite attractive. And as, more or less, out of place as he was in this diner, which either meant she was new to the place and hadn't settled into the usual waitstaff habit of being as noticeable as the wallpaper or that she wasn't supposed to be here.

Curious.

"No, but I do have one question," he said, affecting a rather painfully forced American accent that drawled in all the wrong places. "Do you split the tips with the other girl or is this a conspiracy I should know about?" He punctuated the question with a smile to make it clear this was a flirtation attempt- nothing more.

Well, as far as he wanted her to see, anyway.

[bitch_isback]

"We all split the tips," she replied, not missing a beat in what distinctly felt like an attempt to throw her off. "You know, pool them all together and divide by the number of waitresses working that night." She punctuated her words with a cutesy smile. How could he -- or anyone -- think she was anything more than a harmless kitten of a waitress?

He wasn't fooling anyone with that ridiculous attempt at an American accent. At least not Veronica, anyway. It was kind of endearing in how bad it was. But it also meant that he was leaving himself open for commentary, so …

"You're not from around here, are you?"