Waiting Tables (open)

[Mordred Le Fey]

Accepting the refill with a small smile, Mordred drank this one a little more slowly, taking a couple of sips and putting the glass down again. He raised himself up again, and propped his cheek on his hand.

"You see, I did something pretty bad," He said to her, deciding the thing to do was get an outsider's opinion, "to someone I really care for." He took another sip of water. "And now I think she hates me. But I was just trying to protect her, so... am I really a bad guy? Didn't I just do the right thing?"

So he was reduced to getting the opinion of strangers in a diner. It wasn't even a bar - he couldn't even blame the alcohol. What was wrong with him?

[Dusty Fae]

Dusty has gone back to her work, wiping down the counter when he began to talk to her about whatever was eating at him. She drifted back down the counter, curious. She was curious about what he had to say for herself. She got the distinct impression that this might take a while. It was curious, him opening up to her like that. Strange. Men didn't usually do that.

Now Dusty had seen a lot of awful things in her time. Growing up in and around a saloon would do that to anyone. Dusty felt that it gave her a better sense of people's honesty. And right now it seemed like Mordred was trying to justify his actions to himself. "I reckon that depends," she told him, not quite how comfortable she was playing the judge and jury in this self-imposed trial. At least they both knew he wouldn't hang for whatever he'd done.

She leaned on the counter, careful to look casual. "This person you care about, did she know you were doing what you did to protect her? Or does she think you hurt her feelings just to hurt her feelings?" She sighed. Men never understood how women felt. "I ain't gonna pass judgement on you, but if you have to ask a perfect stranger if what you did makes you a bad person, I'd reckon you have a few things to work out with yourself. And I'd start with your guilt."

She slid away from the counter gracefully, stepping up the window just as the chef ran the bell. There was the caramel stuffed french toast as promised. Dusty returned and placed the hot plate in front of Mordred. "Ain't nothing wrong with eating your feelings."

[Mordred Le Fey]

Mordred snorted at Dusty’s question. “Of course she doesn’t know. That would mean I showed some vulnerability, allowed someone to think I actually had feelings.” He muttered quietly. “Mordred Le Fey doesn’t care about anyone except himself. It’s a difficult reputation to uphold.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm and contempt.

Guilt - that was Mordred’s constant companion at the moment. Where the hell did he even start?

His food arrived and he looked down at it, his stomach churning at the sweet smell. He really didn’t want food. He pushed the plate away, instead pulling out a cigarette and putting it in his mouth, searching his pockets for a lighter. “You don’t serve booze in here, do you?” He asked Dusty hopefully.

[Dusty Fae]

Dusty had been feeling sorry for this Mordred fella, but now she just felt disgusted. To say such a thing with such sarcasm and contempt was disgusting. Supposedly he cared for this person, but she wasn't sure how when he could act like that. "Well," she said, her lips making a hard line on her face. "Perhaps you'd better start changing your tune. Your reputation ain't everything, especially if you care about this girl."

Dusty frowned as he pushed away the french toast. Another dish completely wasted, just because he'd been trying t sweet talk her. She'd suggested bacon for a reason and now he was going to waste perfectly good food. "No," she said firmly. "And I wouldn't serve it to you if we did."

[Mordred Le Fey]

Mordred couldn’t help but scoff at her comment. “Reputation is everything, especially in a place like this.” He finally found his lighter and lit his cigarette. Taking a long drag, He exhaled slowly, watching Dusty behind the counter. “I’ve worked hard to build this reputation, for a long time.”

It was true, as the son of the ward and the tutor, the only kid without royal blood who wasn’t so sick she needed constant attention, you needed to find other ways of getting yourself known, and getting your name out there. Being the heir to the thrones best friend had been a start, but Mordred had never liked being known in relation to someone else. And that’s when things had begun to get messy. His mother didn’t care, his father couldn’t stop him, and so things had spiralled.

And now here he was.

He raised an eyebrow as her tone sharpened, and he felt a stab of guilt again. He wasn’t making her life easy. He noticed her reaction to his pushing away of the food, and, in an attempt to appease the girl, he picked up his fork and picked at the waffle, hoping he wouldn’t throw up.

“Now why’s that then?” He asked with a smirk. “I mean, hypothetically, as a paying customer, surely you have to serve me what I ask for?”

[Dusty Fae]

Dusty disagreed on principal. A person's reputation wasn't everything. It was only bits and pieces of that person. They were hard to maintain. People were a lot like diamonds in that way. They were multifaceted. They had lots of sides. "It takes so long to build a reputation, but it wouldn't take much to ruin it," she pointed out. "You ain't as cold and unfeeling as you pretend you are."

She reached out and plucked the cigarette from his hand and ground it out of the counter. "We don't allow smoking in here." She grabbed a rag and swept the cigarette butt and the ash in the rag and then emptied the rag out into the waste bin.

She returned to the table, giving this Mordred a hard look. "I wouldn't serve alcohol to anyone who came into an establishment smelling like a saloon."

[Mordred Le Fey]

She wasn't wrong there. "Tell me about it." He muttered, thinking about how his own reputation would be affected if Meredith went telling everyone. He spent a long time cultivating his reputation, showing different sides of himself to different people, and at the end of it all the he had already shown the wrong side to the wrong person and might have pushed her away for good.

As she reached over and took his cigarette, he looked like a puppy who had had his favourite chew toy taken away. No one had ever taken a cigarette off him before, and he didn't know how to handle it. His mouth opened and shut like a goldfish as he watched her stub it out and throw it away. Today sucked.

He laughed at her insult. "A saloon? Wow, how historical of you." He grinned, continuing to pick at the waffle. He checked his watch. "Well, the bar down the street opens in ten minutes, so the minute that time hits, I will be out of your hair."

[Dusty Fae]

In this one conversation alone Mordred had showed Dusty more than one side. He was clearly off his game so to speak. "Then maybe it's time to stop thinking so much about about your reputation and get to actually living your life again. You might even be happier." She didn't understand him at all.

His reaction to her taking the cigarette was interesting. He must not be used to such things. She herself couldn't believe she'd been so bold. Maybe it was her dislike of him. Maybe it was because he reminded her of Arkady. Maybe that was why she disliked him so much. He reminded her so starkly of Arkady. And she hated thinking about Arkady.

She was a little offended that he laughed at her though. It was a plenty good insult. Better than being told you smelled like a bar. A saloon had a different image in the mind. "Good," she told him, slightly miffed. "I got work to do anyhow. I'll get your check."

[Mordred Le Fey]

She probably had a point. Where had caring about his reputation gotten him so far? Not that he'd been thinking about his reputation last night, not the way he treated Meredith. That had nothing to do with reputation, that was about the truth, his truth, what kind of person he really was. All he'd wanted to do was protect her - and that's what he was doing. He just had to stick to it, be strong.

It sucked.

He checked his watch and saw it hit 11 - bar time. Without waiting for his check, he tossed far too much money on the counter - he figured she deserved a decent tip for putting up with his crap. "Thanks for listening." He muttered, shooting her a small smile before heading out of the door.

Time to drink.

-fin-