Harmless Fun

Una Bella Pizza Parlor

Una Bella is a very large, open and sparkling place. Corrugated metal decorates the walls, the rounded edges jutting out about an inch or so to make it look as though one is standing inside a large package of boxed food. The floor is likewise made up of metal tiles, furthering the atmosphere. A few small chrome tables are set about the pizzeria with a tall counter and stools lining the walls.
A large counter spans the length of one wall, behind the glass one can find a variety of different luncheon meats, as well as vegetables, salads and hot foods for easy boxed lunches. A large pizza oven and a grill can also be found here, to create pizzas and grilled sandwiches.
A full menu is listed on a sign above the counter.

The day's winding to an end, though everyone is well aware that for some, the waking hours will start in but an hour or so. Still, there's light outside, clouded, but bathing the city in a mellow grey anyway. Josephine is amongst those seeking a rather early dinner - and she's far from the only one. Forgoing on making dinner for herself at the hotel, she opted for pizza, only to find nearly all the tables occupied. In fact, there's just one more table, set for two, available. She eyes it posessively when she's addressed by one of the staff. "Just you, ma'am?"

Some days are just not very good to Ivan Fontane. This happens to be one of them. The poor man is starving, having skipped over his lunchbreak in favor of doing intensive damage control. As a result, the man looks considerably harried and just a bit frazzled as he looks about the establishment, overlooking the lack of booths in favor of heading straight for the counter. "Listen, man, I'm starving. I just want a slice. or two. Or like, four, please." He pleads.

As Josephine nods, the waiter looks disapproving, knowing fully well that if he can convince this woman to order take out, he can fill that table with two, three, hell, maybe even for paying customers before she's halfway down the street. "I'm sorry ma'am, but we just don't have any tables for one left. If you want, you can get in line with the gentleman over there and take one of our lovely pizza's to enjoy in the comfort of your own home?" The tall woman follows his gaze to Ivan's back and though she looks highly irritated for a moment, she is walking up to the stranger next, extending her arms and exclaiming, "Darling, what took you so long, neh? Look, they saved us a table, I knew I felt lucky today?" If Ivan turns around, he'd see a pleading look, the woman wording without sound, 'please-please-please'…

Ivan's head is frantic, almost painful to read into. Like a constant buzz of static, it will seem of a different flavor or pitch then a regular human's. It will be harder to understand. «…I've got to get the mayor out…he'll be killed, I'll be killed…did I overplay my…oh god, and Faith, what about those vampires…I want pepperoni…» Well. Obviously, he's not completely focused on the drama he seems to have wrapped himself around in.

When the woman turns to him, Ivan is confused, and this expression writes itself on his features beautifully as he begins to back away from the stranger. «Jesus Christ, is she crazy too? Green Oaks must've had a mass break out.» "Whoa, lady, I'm not who…" Beat. He can see it, recognize it. The desperation in her eyes. "…Uh…yeah. Yeah, traffic was crazy?"

"Table. Pizza. I need it, share a table, please?" The words come whispered, hastily spoken while Josephine holds out a hand to take one of his. Either he does and they'll end up having the table, or he won't and she'll look like a fool. The waiter behind her is looking at them dubiously already. Louder, she says, "Yes, traffic. But all's fine now, neh. Come, let's eat. Let me guess," she winks, "Pepperoni?" There's a foreign accent to her alto, placing her across the ocean to the east and up north. She doesn't look insane. And by the way her stomach is growling, she's just as hungry as he is.

Ivan looks highly suspicious, and really, can anyone blame him? With his jaw clenched and his attention fixed dubiously on the relative stranger, doubting her state of mind once again, it takes Ivan a little while. Eventually, though, he does reach out a hand to take hers limply, following her over to the table. "Er. Yeah, pepperoni's right. You just, ah, know me so well…sugarblossom." The pet name is offered with a wry sort of amusement, given just quickly enough to send the staff off of their proverbial trail. "Heh. You did say that you were going to pick up the bill today, didn't you, dear?"

"Hah, nice try," the woman smirks, releasing his hand the moment she can pull her seat back, sitting down, well, nearly falling down. For a moment she puts her hands over her face and starts laughing, "Oh man!" Softer, while pulling the chair to the table and leaning forward, "Sorry, you must think I'm crazy… But one more night with pizza in my hotel room would've driven me mad for sure." She checks if any of the staff is looking their way, then extends a hand again, "I'm Josephine, and you…" She takes in his face, tilts hers, "You look familiar?"

"It was worth a shot," Ivan admits with a casual shrug, brows arching in the direction of the woman. When she admits to knowing how she must come off, it's all Ivan can do to not laugh. With a shake of his head, he grins. "Crazy? Naw…" And by that, he means yes ma'am. "It's fine. I'm used to crazy. Quite literally. I see you're not a fan of being alone, then?"

The hand is eyes warily before Ivan extends his own in a gesture of friendliness. "Josephine? Well, nice to meet you, then. I'm Ivan Fontane. And…err…" He looks familiar, does he? "I do? From where, do you know?"

Her hand is dry and firm in it's shake, businesslike. She doesn't linger in the gesture either. "Van den Bosch," she smiles at him as he does include his last name. "Yeah, I could swear… Could I have seen your photo somewhere? Newspaper perhaps? Oh, wait! You work with the mayor, don't you." Bells start to ring and there's a little more light to her eyes. "Okay, you're going to think me off the charts now, but I've been planning to call you for an interview…"

Ivan quirks a brow here. Normally, he is not recognized for his position, except from avid McNaab fanatics. After all, who really knows the names and faces of a mayor's staff. And the very fact that she was planning on calling him for an interview…? "Yes, actually. I do work for the mayor," he confirms with a gracious smile, looking polite and amiable. "And…you mean, call for an interview with the mayor? Depending on the publication, then I could snab you one easy, no problem." He makes the assumption for her, before glancing back around the room. "Want me to go put in the order? I really am starving."

"See," Josephine leans back, very pleased with her memory, "I knew I'd remembered your name from McNaab's crew. It's called crew, right? Anyway," she nods vaguely to his last statement and raises an arm to wave someone over. Nothing refined about her manners, but hopefully it gets the job done. "Currently I'm following Braeden MacKeirnan for a few weeks, but after that's done, I'd love to have an interview with the mayor. I understood you were the person to see for appointments?" And in the same breath, "Is he above water yet."

"Above water?" Ivan echoes thoughtfully, his eyes turning a bit more clinical as he inspects her. "Well, he is currently being tended to in a secure environment, so I suppose not quite yet, but he will be above water soon enough. Yes, I could schedule you in for an interview. What publication do you work for?" He inquires with mild interest, waiting to smile over to the help once they arrive. "Yeah, hey. We'd like a large pepperoni, right? And…d'you want to get a pitcher of something to drink?"

"Anything non-alcoholic please…" Is answered with a self-conscious roll of eyes. "Ice tea?" She checks how that sits with him. "And it's Time NL, though the articles will be published in other editions of Time Magazine if they're good enough I suppose." She shifts forward a bit more, leaning with her elbows on the table, tucking an errand lock of hair behind her ear, "You'll forgive me, but… Secure environment? Don't tell me he got some kind of, you know, virus?" The innuendo is hard to miss.

"Ah, pepsi, please." With the soft drink, as well as the rest of the order squared away, Ivan can turn to nod in Josephine's direction. "You mentioned a name, before me. Said you were following a certain Braeden something, right? Pardon my curiosity, but who's that? Is it someone I should know?" With this attempted distraction in play, he finds himself counteracting it all together. Suddenly, he's smiling to the reporter with a new sort of interest. "Ha. I see what you're trying to do there - you're trying to wiggle some information out of me as a teaser, is that it? No, no virus. The mayor is alive and well." The emphasis on that particular word is deliberate. "He is dealing with the recent terrorist attack as well as he can."

Josephine tilts her head just so and her smile too admits guilty as charged, "Could try, couldn't I? And you know MacKeirnan. AVL?" With the order underway, introductions done, all her attention is targeted directly at him, the green eyes calm but sharp on his. "So McNaab's back at the office? Doesn't he need you right now?"

Ivan lets out a faint laugh. "Yes, that very much true. Although, here's a little hint. I'm much more liable to talk if my stomach, and wallet, is full." It's a tease, mostly - good-natured and paired with a grin that sobers with the change of topic. "MacKeirnan? No, I didn't know him, to be honest. I suppose I'll have to look for the article once its published then. Get educated and all that." The query about McNaab earns a sudden wryness. "Yes, and yes, he does. I'm afraid I wont have much time to enjoy our meal together…sugarblossom."

"Aw… But babycakes, you haven't had a single bite?" Josephine's smile grows more and more teasing now that all the unexpected formalities have passed. There's even a single finger drawing a little heart on top of his hand, light as a feather.

Ivan quirks his brows upwards, green eyes flying down to stare at the contact being made almost passively. But, then again, this is something he's used to. This is normal…and right now? Ivan is willing to welcome normal with arms wide open. The grin on his face turns decidedly smug and playful. "I'll stick around for a slice or two, I think, but then I'll be off. Don't worry, though - you can save anything you don't eat and I'll scarf it down when I get home." The references to their imaginary 'home' is clearly a good-natured tease.

Josephine's laughter is amused and appreciative, maybe she too could use a break from life as it is, well, has been for the past few days. A last teasing tickle, before she's saved by pizza. Not until the waiter leaves, does she take a slice and offers it to him at bite level, grinning wide, "Man, you're such a whore…"

It's harmless, it's blameless, and it's just a bit of fun. At least, that's how Ivan sees it. When the pizza arrives, the man greets the waiter and thanks him graciously, only to blink and peer at Josephine when she seems to intend to feed him. There is a pause, the slightest bit of hesitation, before he curls his lips upwards and leans over to take a bite before returning to his seat comfortably. Chewing is then put on pause in favor of laughing, swallowing, and then finally expressing his disbelief. "What did you just call me? A whore? Ha! How so?"

"Mmhmm," she nods, dumping the bitten slice on his plate to take one for herself and occupy her mouth with something else then words. Well… "Just get me the appointment, neh," Josephine grins around food. She takes a moment to check her watch, but a contend nod shows she's got time to spare and then some.

Ivan is appreciative of the slice that has been dumped on his plate, though he doesn't reach for it just yet. No, his inquiries must be made. "I'll get you the appointment if you answer my question. Fair's fair, isn't it? Why d'you say I'm a whore?" It's a joke, all in all, but he's genuinely curious at this point. But not curious enough to keep from eating away happily.

"You're easy," the woman shrugs, good natured. "Kinda like that in politicians, you'll understand." She herself is not so gentle with her slice, again biting into it, she was that hungry. "Well, maybe all politicians are, who can say, least your still young. Got that going for you. Ladies galore, right?" Somehow that didn't include her.

Ivan cannot help it, his eyes roll slightly. "Ah, right." He comments, words dry and only slightly bemused, indicative of both his ability to make light of the situation and his general aversion to those sorts of assumptions. "Ladies galore? Not recently, no. Not anymore or any less then any sort of guy would have, I think." It's a mild, calculated response, one which drives him to devote more of his attention to finishing off the food on his plate and grabbing another slice.

Soft chuckles from the opposite side of the table, Josephine looking at him with a rather lopsided grin - while chewing. "Of course." She swallows. "It's a demanding job, neh."

There is a name in his mind. «Faith. I'm not a whore, I'm not a bad guy. Not taking advantage of her…just because she's crazy, it doesn't mean she doesn't know how she feels, right?» Lost in thought, Ivan frowns deeply, chewing the rest of the food items. «It's not like statutory, it's not.» "Anyway, he gets to his feet once the second slice is finished up, running his hands through his hair. "I've got to get back to work. It was a pleasure meeting you, Josephine, right?" Money is tugged out of his pocket and placed on the table, enough to cover the expenses of the meal, before he turns onto his heels and heads out.

"Sure," Jo murmurs at the sudden departure, shrugging before she sets to devour the rest of dinner, "Pleasure all mine, Ivan." Nothing further, just a contend little tune she starts to hum. Something Joe Cocker-ish. Have a little faith in me-ish…

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