Causeway Parking Lot to the Mainland; Later Tuesday Afternoon

[totalwildcard]

It might not have ultimately been too much of a surprise which car in the parking lot was Harley's current ride. At least if you happened to know the Chevy Impala was Dean's provided it was even present on Tuesday. The funky 1970s green Chevy Chevelle sedan (four doors, see what she'd said about the back seat?) was of course Harley's: a classic look, but not so flashy as to attract too much attention and immediately get her in trouble as soon as she'd grabbed it from where the very unfortunate previous owner had left it.

Although the main hint that it was hers was still probably that she'd parked her butt on the hood of the thing as she waited for Marc to get there.

Call it a freebie.

(for that guy, continued from here!

Comments

[hasaknightjob]

Marc made a show of pointedly looking at his menu. Not because he was actually bothered. More it felt like that was the sort of reaction he was expected to provide in this moment for someone who was vexing.

[totalwildcard]

Harley did not give two shits about expected and he knew it.

She snickered at her own joke anyway, then returned her attention to the menu, too.

"So what's looking good for a main?"

[hasaknightjob]

"Turkey on rye," Marc said. "You?"

[totalwildcard]

Harley made a thoughtful noise, eyeing the menu.

But since she operated mostly on instinct all of the time, it didn't take long for something to feel right.

"Oh, mac and cheese! Can't go wrong with a true classic."

[hasaknightjob]

"Getting fries with mine too," Marc said as he closed his menu. Probably coincidence that those were easy to share. Not like last time they'd grabbed food had set a precedent or anything.

[totalwildcard]

Please, neither of them had that kind of follow-through. Clearly.

They just kept walking into suspiciously lucky coincidences, that's all.

"Good," Harley decided, "gives me something to steal."

Of course.

[hasaknightjob]

"Should I put my wallet on the table too while you're at it?" Marc asked, clearly not serious. It was one of those coincidences that by saying that he wasn't admitting or acknowledging any intentions.

[totalwildcard]

"Of course not!" Harley scoffed, feigning offense. "It's much more fun if I've gotta fish it outta your pocket myself!"

[hasaknightjob]

Yep, she got a snicker out of him. "Guess I'll keep moving it around then. Give you a challenge."

[totalwildcard]

"And a great excuse to put my hands all over you!"

As if she needed one.

[hasaknightjob]

"Huh," Marc said. "That did not occur to me."

He was not even remotely pretending that had not occurred to him.

[totalwildcard]

And that gave Harley a second great excuse, this time to point at him and declare, "Liar!" with an absolutely cheeky grin.

And then the little-old-lady-to-be came back to take their order. In her usual bubbly manner, Harley put in the order for their nachos ('just the beans, no meat, but every kind of sauce and thing ya got') and for her mac and cheese - and then also Marc's turkey on rye and the fries, but with a big question mark tone and a look towards him, in case he wanted to amend something or just fully contradict her or something.

[hasaknightjob]

"Lettuce, tomato, mustard," Marc added for the sandwich. But otherwise he was good. And mainly watching Harley interact with someone.

[totalwildcard]

There was a lot that could be said about Harley Quinn, negative and completely true, but at least no one could claim she didn't try and be nice to waitstaff!

... These days.

So, much like last time, she was charming and cheery and may or may not have made the waitress think about a tatted-up wayward daughter of hers.

And then the waitress went away, and Harley's attention turned back to Marc. "Right, where were we?"

As if that mattered. He could say anything and she'd probably just roll along from there.

[hasaknightjob]

"Fuck if I remember," Marc said. He did have a question in his mind for some reason so he went with that. "You travel much? Before you moved here."

[totalwildcard]

"Define 'much'," Harley replied immediately, on the first thought that came to her. On the second, however, she shook her head and said, "Actually no, don't bother. There's not gonna be any definition you or anyone else can come up with where the answer isn't 'no'."

[hasaknightjob]

"Gotcha," Marc said. Then the reason why he wondered came back to him. "I was thinking of food. Diners being an American thing."

[totalwildcard]

"Yeah?" Harley replied.

A prompt, not a question, of course.

[hasaknightjob]

"Other places you'd like," Marc said. "Late night food. I'm guessing you've had a lot of that."

Why he was thinking of other things she'd like was of course not worth examining.

[totalwildcard]

"With my lifestyle?" Harley replied, leaning back in her seat a little more. "Yeah. There was a while I barely ever saw daylight!"

And yet that was still not why she was so very pale!

"24-hour places should be handed awards just for existing."

[hasaknightjob]

Marc nodded. Not that he'd go that far but it wasn't news Harley was more effusive than Marc in general. "Kind of a you work when and where you're needed thing with me. Doesn't lend itself to a lot of options."

[totalwildcard]

Harley's shoe bumped against his under the table. Accidentally? Sure, let's go with that.

"So what's your favorite?" she wondered. "From the options you've had?"

[hasaknightjob]

Marc didn't move his foot away. Accidents were accidents after all.

"Back home? A nice pastrami," Marc said. "Outside the US? Hawawshi."

[totalwildcard]

Harley left her foot where it was.

It did not stop her from leaning forward a little with great curiosity. "Ooh, what's that?"

[hasaknightjob]

"It's like a - " Marc made gestures with his hands to approximate size and shape " - pita filled with meat, onions, spices, that kinda thing."