Booths

[Administrator]

The Booths that line the walls, they have a very peaceful lighting here.

[Jensen Flynn]

Jensen had had Jerry help him clean his leather coat and shine his boots, and sent his good white button-down off to be pressed, before meeting Waltz outside the Queens lodging house, as promised, at noon. Playing the part of the perfect gentleman, he offered her his hooked elbow and led the way through the streets leading into Brooklyn, and to Jensen's favorite restaurant. Though Jerry Flynn was an Italian-Irish crossbreed, he'd been raised with a cook named Hildegart Hintzen. He'd eaten more knackwurst and kraut in his life than most actual Germans.

He held the door open for his lunch-date-get-together-thing partner, and quickly scanned the room. The tables, of course, were out; far too open and exposed. The window seats were appealing, but being on display wasn't; after all, they were in Brooklyn, and Jensen was a hit man. The booths on the other side of the restaurant were perfect. He was obscured from the view of anyone casually passing by the restaurant, he could still keep an eye on the windows and front entrance of the restaurant, and kitchens were a quick jump away in case he had reason to rush Waltz to safety.

Not that he expected anything to interrupt their lunch, but careful planning was a requirement when your occupation involved unlicensed firearms.

Once they'd been seated, the waiter had brought them each a glass of ice water and a menu, and Jensen had sent him off again with an order of Muenster cheese spread and a roggenbrot round as an appetizer, he looked across the table and smiled.

"Have you ever been here? Their Jägerschnitzel is amazing. If you've never had German food before, I'll always suggest you start with that. You'll never go wrong with a good schnitzel."

[waltz]

The simple blue dress was the nicest one Waltz owned. It was been given to her by one of the ladies at the orphanage about a year ago. She had said it made her look like a porcelain doll (and the matching hair ribbon did add much to the image.) Nevertheless, Waltz was satisfied with her appearance and was practically ecstatic to meet Jensen outside the lodging house at noon.

She was mildly surprised when she found herself all the way in Brooklyn at a German restaurant. It seemed like a pretty nice place, a lot nicer than what she was used to at least. Scanning the menu, she started to feel a tad bit overwhelmed. She wouldn’t even pronounce half the dishes written in the list of entrees.

But at the moment, Jensen seemed rather accustomed to these luxuries and Waltz was beginning to wonder who exactly he was, if not a common criminal. Scanning the menu again, she nodded. “Nah, this would be my first time here. A fine choice,” she said with a grin. “So yeah, I guess I’ll have the schnitzel.”

Waltz took a long sip of her water, before placing it back on the table and leaning back in her seat. “So Jensen,” she began tentatively. “Where ya from?”

[Jensen Flynn]

"Ooh, you cut straight in with a loaded question! You know that's dangerous information to have on certain people," Jensen quipped, giving her a wink. He chewed his lip a moment, twisting his water glass around on the table, considering his answer carefully. He was living a double-life, of sorts. Until now, he'd never had much trouble--his work contacts knew one story, his non-work contacts knew the other. But Waltz here was a little of both. She wasn't someone on the inside, but she knew that he was.

After stalling as long as he reasonably could, he decided he needed to play it safe. His first duty was Jerry's protection. If anyone in the Mob--or especially against the Mob--learned that Jensen had a brother, Jerry could be in danger. If Waltz ever discovered his lie, he was sure she wouldn't be happy, but he thought maybe she might understand. Eventually. If she were in a position to care at all when it happened, that is.

Maybe he could get away with giving her part of his story, just cut out the parts that could put people at risk, without actually lying. A half-truth wasn't a lie, right?

"I'm from upstate," he said simply. "Schenectady. Came down to the City two years ago. Started off as a dock worker in Brooklyn, then... upgraded to my current occupation."

Waltz was the first girl in his life who knew of his real occupation without actually being a part of it, and she seemed like such a sweet, innocent thing. Jensen suspected lingering on the subject of his means of employment would make her uncomfortable and nervous, so he quickly bounced the question back to her.

"How about you, Miss Waltz? What's your story?"

[waltz]

Waltz bit the inside of her cheek at the mention of his job. It was a considerably dodgy topic and she was rather relieved when he changed the subject. She had no real issue describing her past because there really wasn’t much to tell.

“Well, I never knew my folks. Lived in an orphanage before I ran away a few months ago and went to Queens. And uh... I guess that’s it,” she finished lamely. Her answer was almost as vague as his, although she imagined he had a much more exciting past than her boring little life.

Downing the rest of her water, Waltz asked suddenly. "What did you want to be when you were a kid?" It was a question she seldom asked, because most of the people she knew aspired to be something great but would probably never achieve it. They were the scum of the streets and always would be.

Perhaps she would amount to something. Then Waltz laughed silently to herself. Not in a million years.

[Jensen Flynn]

"What did you want to be when you were a kid?"

Jensen laughed out loud when she asked, and found himself unable to stop the blush that crept up his neck and into his cheeks. Oh, this was going to be embarrassing... But what the hell, Waltz deserved to extract a little embarrassment on his part.

Avoiding her eyes, he rubbed his mouth, trying to force some resemblance of seriousness into his face again, but failed and chuckled, a scoffing noise, at himself. "I, uh... well, there were two things I wanted to be when I grew up. The first part was, I wanted to be a cowboy. Believe it or not, I wanted to be a lawman. A frontiersman, leading wagon trains through washed-out riverbanks and protecting towns from Indian raids and having shoot-outs at high noon with outlaws... My father would tell me stories about Wild Bill Hickok and Buffalo Bill Cody and Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday every night." Jensen was surprised at the flood of excitement that came over him as he recounted his childhood dreams to Waltz. He hadn't thought about his dreams of being a Wild West sheriff in years, but he could feel himself growing restless and fidgety as he tried to relate his naive ambitions. "God, I remember when the gunfight at the O. K. Corral happened, I was eight years old, and I used my allowance to buy every edition of the newspaper every day until they stopped having any reports on it. I would read the hell out of anything that mentioned the Wild West heroes."

He bit his lip, smirking, and went back to twisting his water glass around on the table. "And, uh, the other thing I wanted to be was... a, uh, baker." He looked up at Waltz again with an embarrassed smile. "I wanted to be a pie-making frontiersman. Wanted to be known far and wide for all the outlaws I'd run down, and my fabulous latticework in pie pastry."

[waltz]

Waltz could barely contain her smile while Jensen excitedly explained his dreams of becoming a cowboy when he was younger. This somewhat childish side of him was not one she would have expected. She liked it. Seeing someone so cool and tough suddenly unwind was rather comical.

A cowboy and a baker… She giggled. He was certainly full of surprises. She never really thought of being much far out of New York. Strange places made her nervous.

“I wanted to be a fairy when I was younger,” Waltz offered, growing a little misty eyed as she remembered. “One of the older girls made me wings out of an old box she found on the street. Can ya believe I still have it?” At the moment, it was under her bed in the lodging house, beat up with its color fading. Even so, it was there. She checked every night before she went to bed just to make sure.

[Jensen Flynn]

Jensen smiled, looking into Waltz's eyes. "Now, see, me being a Wild West lawman, that's just laughable. But you, being a fairy? I could see that." He leaned back a bit, appraising Waltz and nodding. "Yeah, I can see the wings, the wand. Gauzy little skirt made outta leaves and grasses. You'd be a beautiful fairy."

Before he could continue, the waiter returned with their roggenbrot and Muenster appetizer. "Here you are," he announced, setting the round of rye bread and dish of cheese-and-chives spread in the center of the table. "Are you ready to order?"

"Yeah," Jensen said, handing him their menus. "I'll have the Schweinebraten, but could I have potato pancakes instead of Spaetzle?"

"Of course," the waiter agreed, taking note of his request.

"Excellent, and a Jägerschnitzel for the lady. We'll finish with a Schwarzwälder torte, and could we get a couple glasses of Riesling?"

The waiter stopped writing for a moment and eyed Jensen, flicking his eyes at Waltz and back again, clearly informing Jensen that he doubted Waltz was of the appropriate age to order a glass of wine. Jensen cleared his throat and narrowed his eyes at the waiter, quirking a brow and straightening up imposingly. "Gotta problem?" he asked quietly, his voice dangerously low.

The waiter quickly quailed. "No, sir, I'm sorry, forgive me. Of course, two glasses of Riesling, the best sweet wine we possess. I'll bring those out to you right away." He flipped his notepad closed again and, pausing to give Waltz a polite little bow, hurried off to put their order in with the cook.

Jensen watched him leave again, waiting until he was out of earshot to turn back to Waltz and smile charmingly. "Where were we?"

[matchstick]

As Matchstick walked across the road he smelt a wonderful sent. He followed the sent, and found a very nice looking restaurant. Matchstick curiously cupped his hands against the window and looked through it to see what was smelling so good. Matchsticks eyes scanned the restaurant, there was a family, a group of rich kids, and--- WALTZ? A smile cracked across his face, but then he saw another person sitting across from her, and---and it was another guy! Then his smile slowly faded off his face, they have been going out for what 2 weeks now and now she is already cheating!?!?!? Matchstick furiously tapped on the window without thinking.

[waltz]

Waltz barely managed to conceal her smile as the waiter automatically recoiled. Though this dangerous side of Jensen frightened her quite a bit, she couldn’t help but envy him for it. His intriguing character added to his charm. Besides, she had never tasted wine before.

Reaching for the bread, she looked back at him coyly. “Well, you were saying what a beautiful fairy I’d be…” Waltz had many weaknesses, her worst being flattery. A wink along with a touch of cajolery and already she was hooked. She would have been more than happy to hear a little bit more when came the sound of furious tapping at the windows across the restaurant.

And there stood Matchstick, the newsie she had kissed on nothing but an impulse. He looked mad. Really mad. Waltz quickly averted her gaze, her eyes still wide with shock at seeing him there. Maybe if she ignored him long enough, he’d go away.

“Nice day,” she quickly commented, smiling weakly.

[Jensen Flynn]

Jensen was about to go into another round of flattery when he heard someone tapping on the window. He made it a point not to turn to see what was going on, instead watching Waltz's face as she looked. She looked surprised, and suddenly seemed rather pale.

“Nice day.”

If that wasn't a subject-changer... Jensen stealthily glanced up to the wall, where a mirror was positioned near the door leading into the kitchens. In the mirror, he could make out a boy standing outside the restaurant, glaring inside. Given Waltz's reaction, Jensen was pretty sure the boy was trying to catch Waltz's attention with the incessant tapping.

"Er, I think you've got another suitor trying to snag your attention, darlin'," he said, arching an eyebrow at her. She didn't seem too eager to excuse herself to go see what he wanted, and judging by the way the guy was glaring daggers at her, Jensen couldn't blame her. "You want me to, ah, take care of him?" he offered sincerely, casually stretching out his arms.

[matchstick]

((Lol so dramatic =D this is like a soup opera =D))

Matchstick finally came to his senses, why was he angry? Why was he doing this? Matchstick anger slowly turned into a frown, as he drooped he head down and looked at his burnt shoes, he mouthed bye in Waltz's direction and walked away slowly, kicking the dirt. How, how could Waltz do this to him? he thought to himself as he walked away. Matchstick happy glow faded away, a group of newsies walked by, the ones who know looked back at him, confusion in there eyes. He knew what they were thinking, why isn't he smiling? He couldn't blame them, Matchstick is always smiling, but not now.

[waltz]

Glancing back at the window just in time to see Match say goodbye, Waltz shook her head. “Nah, he’s leaving anyway,” she replied and began to explain, all the while staring guiltily at her lap. “That was my guy. Not anymore, I guess.” She looked back at Jensen, smiling sadly. “I never told him I was meeting someone else.”

Waltz sighed and leaned back in her seat again. “We weren’t even together that long, ya know. Met at the tracks a couple weeks ago and the next second, we’re together. I don't even know his real name. Good God, he’s acts like a kid half the time and I never meant to…” She trailed off, embarrassed to be talking so much, her thoughts still on Matchstick. She never meant to say that she liked him and she most certainly did not mean to kiss him. But Jensen didn't need to know that. Surely he had more to think about than her petty little problems.

[Jensen Flynn]

((Yep, sure is! Just like a soup opera!))

Now that the boy had turned to walk away, Jensen glanced out the window, watching him. Poor kid was slumped and dragging his feet like he'd just watched somebody shoot his dog.

"Huh," Jensen huffed curiously, turning back to Waltz. "I, uh, I didn't know you had a guy. You should've said something, we could've had him along." He didn't mean that at all, of course, but it was widely considered inappropriate to come right out and state that you didn't care whether a girl was already claimed or not, you still intended to take her out.

But seeing how distraught Waltz looked as she rambled off the details of her relationship with the boy, Jensen felt bad for her. She was young, and obviously a romantic, and he could tell that she was the kind of girl who never wanted to hurt anyone, even accidentally. "Hey," he said gently, reaching out and cupping his hand over hers to draw her gaze up out of her lap. "If you need to go after him, go on. It's okay. Young love, I get it."

The waiter returned then carrying two glasses of white wine. "For der herr und seine frau," he said, his fake accent thick and dramatic, as he gently set a glass in front of either of them.

"Excellent timing," Jensen complimented, nodding his thanks to the waiter. "Danke." The waiter gave another little bow and hurried off again, and Jensen turned back to Waltz. "Think you might need this legitimately now, huh?" he said with a small smile, gently clinking his wine glass against hers.

[waltz]

Waltz looked up as he touched her hand, feeling slightly horrified at the notion of going after him. "Oh no," she replied with a nervous little laugh. "I wouldn't want to do that. He's a nice kid and all, and besides..." She glanced at him sideways. "I would much rather spend the day with you."

Blushing at her own daring, Waltz grinned back sheepishly and took a sip of her wine. She never had any alcohol before. She blinked in surprise, finding it rather good. "It's delicious!" Waltz set her glass back down, not wanting to finish it too soon. The finer things in life, she learned, should never be rushed.

She exhaled in content, enjoying this date-get-together thing already. Jensen was a nice man, and she was already falling a bit in love with him. Smiling, she shook her head. "You really didn't have to do all this."