With a sigh, she turned around and started urging Robbie toward the door. "Come on, we can find some place way better that doesn't put rats in their food!" pitching her voice for the patrons that were staring at them. Kate shot the woman behind the counter a very rude hand gesture before she headed for the door, tearing it open with a huff and stomping outside.

"You don't inspire much confidence when you use the words or something." His response came with the usual straight air to it. The stomach pat felt like the sort of thing 'buddies' would do for each other. Good game. How about that? You know what I mean? Pat pat. Did Kate have trouble categorizing his role in her life or was she trying him on, shoving him onto different lists and roles to see where he would prosper best?

It was likely they would all be failures. Robert didn't do well when he tried.

There was an eyebrow arch at the knife waving inside the restaurant. A bit dramatic, but he got the point. Old women tended to hate-love him. This was more of a hate-hate-love it seemed. It didn't surprise him that she spotted him right off for what he was. Magic and spells didn't have much on worldly experience and common sense. He stood there, feeling slightly uncomfortable, wondering if he should light up a cigarette and let Kate enjoy her lunch. His weight had rolled onto the back of his foot like he meant to wander off on his own just up until she slipped up to his side, urging them out the door with her. His steps were fluid, unbothered. Unlike Kate, he'd experienced this moment enough to be unruffled and seemingly unshaken.

"Do you enjoy being with someone more undesirable than you?" It wasn't meant to be an insult. Kate wrestled with the underground, with drugs and some of the questionable parts of mankind. He imagined that there were places that at worst refused her and at other times tolerated her just so she wouldn't make a scene or cause trouble. Did it comfort her to know that she could walk into a place and be rejected not just on her own merit, but his? The situation never stopped being awkward. Robert had never considered himself a 'player' in the demon world. Maybe a stooge, maybe a servant, but no more than a pawn in terms of power and influence.

Nola had started to change that, but that was a change only the demonic and man-belief-magic world would know of. It was still subtle, still a whisper in the back of everything. Perhaps it would start being seen in the faces of unforgiving old women who needed to quit smoking.

The softer question followed his first, quite nearly at its heels, "Or am I reinforcing something you never wanted for yourself?" They continued to walk the street, his purple helmet hooked and carried along in one hand, swinging like a weak pendulum at his side.

Were they not allowed to be friendly while clothed? Must penetration be involved for a conversation to happen? Besides, there hadn't been any thought or intention behind the gesture, other than to tease him. Robert really wanted there to be subtext where it didn't exist, huh?

There was no way Kate would have enjoyed her lunch while her companion was spurned, it wasn't her style. What Robert couldn't know was that she had her own motivations for leaving the restaurant, her own disdain for prejudice in all its forms and it had nothing to do with how she made her money. His question earned nothing more than a roll of her eyes. Lips parted to pick apart his understanding of the situation when his follow-up slipped out. Stopping dead in her tracks, Kate stared with wide eyes for a moment before lifting her hands to cover her face. After a deep breath, she didn't feel any better so she lifted her hands straight into the air and let loose a frustrated sound that rasped from the back of her throat.

"Sweet fucking baby Traveler, I swear that spending so much time around weeping assholes has turned you into one of them. First of all, I don't even know what the fuck you're talking about. Reinforcing what now? Secondly, I don't know who or what you think I am, but you haven't got a clue what I've been through." She huffed and glared at him, hands on her hips. "What do you see when you look at me, Robbie?"

Robert was cynical and preoccupied. He assumed Kate's interest was skin deep and didn't dwell on it longer, didn't afford it more meaning than that. Friendly while clothed was just being momentarily polite. In some ways, Robert was right. People were fickle and were likely to enjoy him briefly as a novelty, as a curiosity. For Kate's sake, it was best that he didn't hold his breath or consider that it might be more meaningful. Robert's heart moved at a glacial speed and his expectations of being loved rested somewhere behind the moon.

She rolled her eyes which provoked a strange smile on his lips. Humored at her lack of humor. Her frustration built itself up into a full body expression. She exploded while he lit up a cigarette, her hands in the air like a prayer. His head tilted to the side, there were several blinks to bat away the debris of her outburst from his eyes. "What I said had no reflection on what I thought of you, as a whole," a motion of his hand and then one to the restaurant behind them, "Only that you are familiar with that place. You brought me somewhere you liked. You're not there because of me and it's likely that with me... many more doors will shut. I don't think you envisioned that for yourself." There was a pause, the melancholy demon offered up a sliver of light, "And I suppose that doors which were shut to you before will now open."

Kate asked him the question that stabbed people the deepest. Nearly seven hundred years, at least ten generations of mankind, he had observed. In rougher times one could have argued it was twelve generations. She was glaring, hands on her hips, looking like she might throw a punch if she didn't get her way. That was fine, she could throw a punch. He'd say it, anyway. He sucked on his cigarette and exhaled the words, "A relatively broken person, which is to say you're beautiful."

Oh yeah, reading WAAAAYYYYY to into things. There were a million different levels between skin-deep fuck buddy and soulmates for all eternity. Sure, Kate tended more toward the former because she didn't stay settled for too long but that didn't mean she wasn't sincere in her friendships or affections, that she didn't care about Robert as a person. Demon. Whatev. Kate lived in the moment, enjoyed what was in front of her without trying to cling tightly, allowing things to move away from her when that inevitable time came.

A heavy sigh left her, fingertips rubbing at the spot between manicured eyebrows while she tried to process his level of angsty emo. "Let's get one thing straight, Robbie," allowing her hand to fall away from her face. "You don't know what I envision for myself so don't make assumptions. I'm no stranger to being a pariah on my own merit and not for the reasons you're probably thinking. What bothers me is that people are assholes, not that you're a demon and poor you can't get into some of the clubs. If that place is going to treat random customers like that, then I don't wanna fuckin' eat there. I don't care how cheap their dumplings are."

The words broken and beautiful earned a rather disgusted expression. "Ugh, are you serious? I'm getting you a journal so you can write down all your deep, dark thoughts and glorify it on your own time, tell it how much you hate your parents. You have so little game, you have anti-game. Maybe it's a demon thing." With a huff, Kate shook off her lingering anger with the proprietors of Mr. Dumpling and glanced around. "I think there's a taco place nearby, you like tacos?"

There was a turn from him, he took a few steps and put the purple helmet on the seat of her ride. Another draw of his cigarette, "I don't try to have game or whatever that is." It was a newish term that was hip and sometimes eluded to courtship as being a game. Robert wasn't altogether sure that he liked that.

"You snub an establishment for rejecting me for being a demon and then you... make an enormous assumption about all demons based on me?" She mentioned tacos and he frowned, holding the cigarette and both hands atop the helmet, "You go ahead. I'll find my journal to write my thoughts in. I'm not really in the mood to be the subject of mockery." A glance at his cigarette before he put it between his lips. His shoulders lifted in a lukewarm shrug, putting his cigarette to his lips and backing off a step. Kate's comment had the desired effect of pushing him back.

Kate's shoulders slumped, knowing she'd overreacted but that shit really got under her fucking skin. Old wounds were the deepest, right? "Fuck," she muttered, taking a step closer to him, daring to put a hand on his arm. "Look, Robbie, I'm sorry. I... where I come from, I have a kind. And people didn't much like my kind so I know how it feels to be on the receiving end of that shit. I know how it feels. But what also made me twitchy was you assuming that I would somehow judge you for it, take it out on you. That's not me, okay?"

"You must realize that... I was born in a time that the mentally retarded humans were executed for being demonic." He reminded her, flat tones following, "If a woman gave birth to a defective child... it was said it was her fault. That looking on a disgusting painting or having impure thoughts during her pregnancy could cause it. It was something people believed for decades." One of his hands rested on her waist, his smile a bitter one, "You realize it is only recently that women aren't viewed as property anymore? Not even within a century on Earth can that be said. Taking into account the prejudice mankind shows itself... yes, maybe I am a morose son of a bitch, but it isn't because I made that up to torture myself. You live in a liberated, beautiful era in an eclectic town, but it is not the one I've known."

There was a sigh and, perhaps, the urge to reroute conversation, "Let's try those tacos, then."

"Sounds like your people got treated a lot like my people. Feared and hated for what we are. I haven't been in the game even a fraction of the time you have, maybe I'd be angrier or sadder like you. But...I can't let it hold me back, either, yanno? Fuck anyone that doesn't like me or doesn't get me. If they don't want to try, oh well, I got better things to do. I just think you get in your own way. You're also living in the same liberated, beautiful city and one old bitch with a butcher knife shouldn't be enough to put you down. You're older and more powerful than her. You should kick the door down and carve her face off or something," smiling because it was only half jest but the idea alone was pretty sweet.

She lingered over it for another heartbeat before moving on. "Yeah, tacos are awesome. Let's go," hooking her arm through his and dragging him toward the taco place down the block and across the street.

"Well," Robert said with a small lift and drop of his shoulders, looking down as her. He felt the initial urge to point out that it wasn't incorrect for him to be hated or feared-- demons fed and prayed upon humanity. His impact just happened to be benign because he wasn't a soul collector or needed his sustenance in a more aggressive way. Had his birthing been a bit more different, he would have been the coyote to the chicken when it came to mankind. The tension there was real, posed to continue on until judgment day.

It was likely she already knew all of that, that his rambling would merely beat a dead horse instead of be illuminating. So it was that he said nothing, her arm hooked into his as their path steered them towards tacos and away from empty notebooks.

Older and more powerful. Carve her face off or something. Dog eat dog world. Robert's eyebrows knit as he thought about it, perhaps imagining the moment that he did something like that. For some reason, it wasn't as repulsive as he thought it'd be. Instead, it felt dark and comical, like skinning the woman's face was a strange joke that she would get later and laugh about.

"I like being around you." If he kept talking like that she might have to rearrange the Eeyore imagery he'd carefully cultivated. Not to worry, there was more to be said, "You make things feel new again. Sometimes the company I keep makes everything seem like an unstoppable rerun. Another fight. Another war. Another joy or tragedy. It feels less repetitive and... a little more fun because of you."

"I've always been pretty good about separating the wheat from the chaff." Robert got a wink before she glanced down at the plastic tablecloth, picking one manicured nail against a crusty spot of dried salsa. Well, she assumed it was salsa. Could be anything, really.

"What was it like, growing up in the plague? I bet it smelled, festering bodies can't be a good smell. Did any of your family die or do demons not catch stuff? That must come in handy for all the women on the other days of the week," lips splitting into a wide grin. "Maybe you could offer some sort of stud service to the sexually diseased." Could that really be a thing? If there was a market for it, Kate would find it an exploit it.

She nibbled the edges of chips first, working her way toward the center in a slow spiral that seemed born of fidgeting or nervous energy than any real desire to consume the chip. Her phone lay face up on the table and when the screen flashed or it made some sort of noise, Kate glanced at it, taking in the notification before swiping it away. "So after we catch this dude, then what? What's the end game here?"

"It's possible but... improbable. Some viruses will pass between species but human specific ones... well..." a shrug of his shoulders, the unnecessary addition of 'I'm not human' wasn't voiced. Kate wasn't stupid and likely caught his meaning. More to the point, though, "The plague wasn't much of a problem for us. There are different sorts of demons, some more similar to humans than I am, who may have suffered. I don't remember seeing it but... I was also an infant at the time. I don't recall much so... I'm answering you based on my adult experience."

At the offer of stud service his nose wrinkled, the disgust more than palpable. There was afterwards a definitive shake of his head as proof of a strong disinterest in it. If there was a market for it, Kate was not nearly persuasive enough to convince him. He didn't say anything to it, thinking that she mostly meant to goad that dismayed reaction out of him for fun.

"He's been relentless so... it seems his death is necessary. He's had multiple opportunities to abandon this path and he hasn't taken them. I doubt another shake-down will end things. As far as I'm concerned, he's decided that this is worth dying for." Another chip with salsa taken and chewed up before he continued, "I'm willing to give him that."

No, he wasn't human, he was a demon. Unless she'd missed some essential piece of information, she understood that to mean 'not human'. Neither was Kate, but she passed well enough that few ever questioned it. Unless she was trying to pass as something else, in which case no one ever questioned that, either. "So what do you remember, from your childhood or whenever? What's the weirdest fucking thing you've ever seen a human do?"

The waitress placed her margarita in front of her and Kate smiled to herself, like she'd just been handed a diamond ring. "Hello, friend," crooning to her drink before lips wrapped around the straw. It wasn't nearly as strong as she wished for, but it was passable. Next time, Kate would bring her own reinforcements.

"So guy is looking for death and you're gonna give it to him good. I can attest to your proficiency. Wonderful. What happens after that? You and Roach, if she's still alive at that point, are still super glued at your boy and girl parts on the astral realm or whatever. How are you going to fix that? Do you want to fix it?"

"Weird?" Robert tilted his head to the side and then looked away. The moment of consideration was long and he admitted, without shame, "I have difficulty recalling much. Sometimes I feel there are memories hanging like anvils over me and other times... Deja vu." His lips pressed together in a line as if holding back a few more sentences. Anyway, something... weird.

"There wasn't much cattle in Europe. They need a lot of land, so only certain people could afford it." His thumb pushed up, into the line of salt that rimmed his margarita glass before he continued, "When a calf would die, the farmers didn't like it. You see... they would bring the bull in at certain times so that all the cows would give birth at about the same time. It made managing the herd easier." His eyebrows lowered and there was a smile that broke on his lips, as if rediscovering the strange moment anew, "I was walking down the road to get groceries when this calf trotted right up to the fence. It was young and probably thought I would give it food or something but I was startled because the calf had the skin of another one tied to it. So, it had run around in this little calf-suit right up to the fence for me. The smell was intense and the sight of it was? surreal."

There was a pause, his hand lifted away from the glass, rolling in the air until it was palm up, "See, when a calf is lost the cow will go back into heat, which farmers don't want so they buy a twin calf from another farmer so that the mother cow doesn't try to make another calf. To keep the mother from rejecting it, they skin the dead calf and tie that skin to the twin. It makes sense but it was... so weird to see. Weird to see someone do it."

The subject of weird rotated to the other weird. Roach. He took a chip, dipped it in the salsa and chewed as she asked the question. Kate had a way of putting her hands in things, as deep as he would let her. There was a faint admission, which seemed to be a testament to his uncertainty, "I have an idea, but it's... flawed. Beyond that, Roach would have to agree." It wasn't impossible that Roach would cackle hysterically or think he'd gone off his rocker. Other than that idea? He sighed, "I don't think either of us can last like this forever. Perhaps a loveless union isn't the worst fate to befall two friends." Though it sounded, at the edges of his voice, like he was recounting a vivid nightmare.

...One with Roach in a light pink apron, making questionable toast and calling him Honey. It was a slight upgrade from the plethora of play names Kate was intent on.

Leaning an elbow on the table, Kate slumped forward, the straw resting upon her lips so that she didn't have to reach far when she wanted a drink. Her focus, however, was glued to him and his story, dredging up memories as if through a fog, trying to catch them before they slipped away. She tried to imagine what she might and might not remember after several centuries.

A horrified, disgusted face was made for the description of one cow wearing another's skin. "Not the most fucked up thing I've ever heard but certainly up there." However, it also gave her a rather inventive idea for the next enemy that tried to trip her up. As usual, her mind ran with something in ten different directions at once without distracting her from the demon across the table.

"First, you didn't answer my question about whether or not you want to dissever your junk from hers. Second, what's so flawed with your idea? What does it involve?" Pale eyes squinted at him for a moment or three before she grunted low, to herself, and straightened. "You don't want it and that's enough, isn't it? Just admit that you're a romantic that wants flowers and date nights and anniversaries. There's no shame in that."

"It's the most fucked up thing I saw humans do outside of war. Demons get weird in other ways." Once he had tried to share such stories with another and was met only with perplexed looks. It was no different than trying to explain to someone in the 70's why the sight of someone's ankles was scandalous a few hundred years ago. Perspective and social culture were everything and demons had a way of being both more and less extreme than humanity.

Dissever your junk from hers. That sounded like an severe form of circumcision, which made him cringe unavoidably, shoulders bunching upward as he took a backward lean against the booth. The look away had "Check Please" written all over it, just with no follow through. His attention returned to her when he had finally cobbled together the words to respond, "I want Roach, but it's an unclear want that I don't trust. The contract makes it unclear because the spirit, or magic, whatever you want to call it, wants to be fulfilled. It wants a man to rule New Orleans as its spiritual Hades... as well as it wants a Persephone. For us to fulfill those roles we need to consummate the agreement like a marriage. Sex, basically. When we're around each other it's like being drugged." Beyond that, Robert and Roach had been an item for a heartbeat. It couldn't be said that there had never been a genuine draw, only that the contract severely muddied those waters. Roach was in love with Grey, and knew that at even the deepest moments of temptation between them. Robert was... disillusioned and dedicated to answers.

"And my idea is that Roach and I need to die," he took a swallow of his margarita, knowing it was affecting him because he didn't think the mix was as sour as the first swallow he'd taken. He looked back to Kate, "Just... die temporarily, somehow. The contract between us can't be lifted or mended from what I can find, but it does go onto its successor upon our death. If we are dead long enough for it to apply to two other people? We'd be free of it. We'd just have to... not stay dead."

For Robert, this was a somewhat terrifying option, though he delivered it without frantic inflections in his voice. Being that a demon had no soul, there would be no 'bringing him back' if he died. It couldn't be remedied by a one-in-a-million miracle, like Cris returning from Hell. He'd simply become nothing, a spiritual dust in the universe. Roach, well, she was human and any temporary death had an enormous and very real risk of being permanent. Brain damage. The questions for the proposed solution then became... is it worth it? Who would be their successors? Those were obvious questions, but they didn't have answers. With Roach being in the situation she was, she couldn't exactly be consulted.

The smile wasn't completely gone. It appeared just at the corners of her mouth when she spoke but mostly he saw it in her eyes. They caught the light differently. It was less like a gleam from the light hanging over their booth and more like an inward light. Maybe it was affection or just warm amusement.

"Cupcake? No, we are not doing cupcake." Robert gave her a meaningful look, glancing at his drink and wondering if he'd started to drink more because of the situation or because of her. Tricks up her sleeves? His attention moved to her face, but he knew better than to actually ask. He could already imagine her lips twisting up in an amused smile as she shared a dirty joke instead of any insight to her tricks. He opted to say, instead, "I believe you."

Kate was capable of affection but she never let it rule her decisions. Well, she tried not to, anyway, particularly when it came to business. Some things in life were simple if you allowed to be and she liked simplicity, it helped when she might be called to pick up and move on at a moment?s notice.

After another bite, Kate rested an elbow upon the table and leaned on that hand, grinning while she chewed. ?What?s wrong with Cupcake? Do you think you?re not as sweet as one? Maybe something salty, instead, like?pickled herring.? A cheeky smirk was aimed at him across the table and the next time he picked up his drink, she ?helped? by tipping the bottom upward. ?Let?s get another in you before we leave, yeah? I think it will help your workday go by faster. Or maybe we?ll just close the museum and I?ll take you somewhere.? Shaped eyebrows bounced up and down twice, leaving it to him to decide how he wanted to spend the rest of his day. ?I think you?ll like it, it won?t be anything too crazy.?

"I don't think I can live in a world where you call me your pickle." She must have known that the comment would drive him to drink. As if on cue, he tipped his glass back, her hand catching the bottom. At that point he had the option of finishing it off with a few shreds of dignity or drowning. Perhaps drowning. No, his eyes widened and he shifted to clear the last few swallows, setting his glass down and then wiping at the salt on the trim, dark hairs of his face with the back of his hand.

"I won't have another if you don't." Though he paused afterward, looking towards the door and then back at her, "But I suppose you're driving. It isn't very fair though, is it, to get me tipsy while you just observe." Robert could actually loosen up when he drank. It was tied to some of the lighthearted memories Roach had of him and why he seemed so stiff and serious to her now. It took a few drinks, but his biology wasn't immune to the effects of it. He'd blush like a person and, after a time, make enough of an ass of himself. For about a year he'd slept at the bottom of a bottle.

The museum. Back to his self-imposed house arrest or to wander. To go to another place. Robert wondered sometimes if the clock was ticking and how soon things would change again. He said it the same way someone said 'fuck it' when he replied with, "All right, we'll see where you take me." For a change, he didn't sound like he was about to be executed.

Cue the classic spit take. At least Kate managed to turn her face to the side before spewing liquid in a misty cloud from her mouth. Some of it dripped from her chin as she burst into laughter, swiping at it with the back of her wrist as she howled. ?My?my pickle!? she gasped out, not caring who stared. Kate was lost to her laughter for a good few minutes and it took the same amount of time for her to wind down and catch her breath again. A napkin was used to blot under her eyes where tears had formed, breathing hard. ?Oh Robbie?O-M-Fucking-Traveler. Fucking grumpiest pickle I ever did meet, that?s for damn sure,? her grin softening the words. ?Grumpy Pickle is your new street name, by the way. Imma tag it errywhere.?

Finishing off the last bites of her food, Kate was contented and the pleased smile curling the edges of her mouth told that story plainly. ?I?m pretty sure I could drink you under the table, Pickle Puss, so don?t worry about my driving. Drink all you want.? Kate winked at him and then finished off her drink. ?But we can get other stuff to take with us, pit stop. Let?s blow this pickle stand. And try not to act like you?d rather be committing suicide than spending an afternoon with me.?

"I told you, it isn't a thing. Is Robert so terrible? Is it just... going to be absolute murder on your remaining soul to call me that?" A motion to the waitress. The communication was clear. A single finger to say another, please. Yes, he needed another. Maybe he wouldn't hear the nicknames if he drank enough. Maybe they had always been there but after making out with a bottle of whiskey you just didn't seem to notice them. Kate was grinning, but the ease that came to her voice offered him no comfort. Not when Grumpy Pickle was the outcome.

Robert wasn't competitive about most things. He didn't feel the need to prove himself or argue when she said she could drink him under the table. There was the slightest rise and fall of his shoulders as if to say "okay" after she'd wagered it. His new drink appeared, which he took a substantial swallow from since they were on the verge of departing, "Just one minute while I finish this?" A motion to his margarita. At the mention of committing suicide verse spending time with her, he frowned, "Most of the time, you're agreeable." It wasn't likely he'd repeat the admission so hopefully she heard it the first time.

"You think I have some sort of soul left?" Kate laughed again but this time it was softer, pushing her empty plate out of the way. "Well isn't that just too cute for words. Are you trying to be a sweet pickle, now? I like mine tart and salty." Brows bobbed in his direction before they were finally graced with the check and Robert's last margarita. Money was given over to the waitress and then Kate was left drumming her fingers on the tabletop, pulling out her phone to tap at the screen. "You wanna hurry that up and chug? Don't wanna be late." Beaming a bright smile at him, she was on her feet the second the last drop cleared his lips.

"The mystery of my appeal for you has been solved. Glad we've made progress." Kate liked her sour... sigh... pickles. He cleared his throat, leaning back so the waitress could smoothly set down his drink before he asked, "Late?" His eyes narrowed on her fractionally, as if trying to discern how concerned he should be. His right hand went to his chest, holding back an invisible tie as he leaned forward, drawing heavily from the margarita. It wasn't a chug, but he had sped along. She played with her phone a bit while he worked on it.

Outside, she got them back on the bike and, as promised, she stopped at a liquor store 4 blocks down to grab some "dessert" before she whisked them through traffic, weaving downtown and if Robert asked, he wasn't told where they were going.

Agave, sour mix and salt washed down and overpowered any hint of cinnamon that might have been in his mouth or lips. Traveling in taste and smell incognito, it seemed. When they stepped outside to the bike he mounted the bike behind her and the pulled the purple helmet on. Fastened beneath his chin, he held her around the waist as they journeyed. They picked up dessert they didn't eat and wove through the traffic in pursuit of something before it was too late to have it. On the last leg of the journey his right hand slipped under the bottom of her shirt. His hold was a firm palm kiss against her skin of her side. The hold broke once she had parked the bike and they pulled off helmets, leaving her need for speed behind in the parking lot.

It was... another museum, much like Robert's, but this one was dedicated to ships and space. It had a planetarium located at one end of the building and Kate snuck them in through a back door, keeping to the very top row in the dim lighting while planets slowly rotated overhead. "Here, we have the Calliope quadrant, where Zeta Prime and the Eden Five are located..." The announcer in the center of the amphitheater droned on while Kate grabbed an empty seat and settled her head back, boots propped on the seat in front of her.

The museum was curious to him, enough that his lips were parted in a soundless study of it. He couldn't say anything at first, trying to take it all in. As slowly as he read, as deliberately as he went through life, it was the same way when absorbing museums. It was good Kate was there to keep pulling him along. Through the back door, they had to be the only criminals who wanted to dodge a modest museum fare and sneak in. The act felt like being a kid stealing from a teacher's candy basket. They hadn't taken anything of enormous value and though it was a disgrace to a fellow museum, Robert was smiling. In the planetarium, the stars spun overhead with worlds he knew existed but had not conceived the feel of. He took a seat to Kate's right, one ankle propped on the opposite knee as he started to make sense of the projections.

"This is what you do, pilot of the stars?" His head turned, speaking quietly in her ear so as not to draw the attention of the three other people scattered in seats for the show.

The mystery of their odd chemistry might never be solved but Kate found she could easily live with the mystery. Not every single rock had to be uncovered in life, else where was the fun? The element of surprise?

For example, it was a surprise when his cold hand winnowed under her jacket and made its presence known with a jolt that startled her, not to mention the breeze that snuck in around his wrist as they drove but it wasn't enough to shake him off or try to tug her jacket down.

Twizzlers and a cherry coke with Jack poured into it was her planetarium fare, not even trying to muffle the crinkling of the plastic as she ripped open the package. A floppy stick of red licorice was used to point out Eden Five. "Don't believe the hype about that place, it was balls for the employees." Her face tilted toward Robert but pale eyes remained fixed overhead, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Yeah. Long hauls are my favorite. Up there...you never know what you're going to find. Never know if some minor mechanical malfunction will kill you while you're sleeping. It's... it's freedom," an undertone of awe coloring her words. Finally, her gaze was flicked to his face. "Have you ever been up there?"

"I'll keep that in mind," his eyes followed the red licorice wand to the speck of light that was indicated. He was watching the star like he could see it, as if it was close enough that he could have recognized anything about it other than it twinkled. His smile was tight and he looked back at her, knowing that he was pretending to understand. His posture eased, allowing him to slouch further down in his seat.

"So you're something of an adrenalin junkie treasure hunter?" It was really stating the obvious. The reckless zeal in her heart was all but perfectly represented by the crotch rocket she drove. How awkward it was when it was parked next to an old, black hatchback. She was looking at him, his face gently illuminated by the spread of stars in the electric screen sky, "No... I'm afraid I've only been on Earth and this city. But the planet was large enough that there was still a lot I hadn't seen."

Robert just wasn't the guy to give an enthusiastic response. If he didn't look as though someone was walking him to the gallows he appeared to curiously tolerate what was happening around him. Kate was right to demand that he give her a more interested response but she let him get by with the kiss, as if he were lucky that she would be so lenient. She was good at her cat-like responses and she probably knew it. Her preening was enough that it caused him to break into a smile and then look down at the second twizzler before he stuck it in between his lips. He took his breath in through the candy straw.

Someone tried to shush them. Robert didn't give a rude gesture, but he did stare at them, blinking once. It was hard to outshush the Shusher himself. The combination of his eerie, unflinching stare and her obscene, flippant gesture was enough to temporarily settle the matter. It would have been quite the accomplishment to get into a fist fight at a Planetarium. No one did that and if you did you never told your fellow inmates.

Her slouch in the neighboring seat was now in line with his own. When she leaned in to whisper about the stars, it felt like a promise he wanted to believe. It was better. There was a whole universe out there if only he was willing enough. His head turned, looking at her solemnly as he whispered, "Why aren't you there now?"

If Robbie?s idea of a good time was to get into a fist fight in ?odd? places, she could certainly set something up for him, just had to know in advance. It could even be a surprise! Now that would be fun. His supply of licorice was refilled in the same spot, same manner when he lifted the second one into his mouth. Kate didn?t want to eat the whole package but also didn?t want to cart it around for the rest of the day. In that vein, one of the sticks was thrown at the Shusher and when they turned around with a glare, she pointed to Robert with an innocent expression. It was alarming how well she could pull that off.

From the corner of her eye, Kate saw that Robert?s face turned to her so she returned the gesture, noting how serious he looked. A small, crooked smile bloomed. ?I?ve been there nearly my entire life. It?s the only place I really consider to be home.? The ship, the crew, the circumstances had changed a hundred times over the years but never her determination to keep exploring. ?Besides, I can go any time. I might have business down here but if I had to leave tomorrow, leave it all behind?? Trailing off, she shrugged. Wouldn?t be the first time, or the last.

The Shusher looked from her to Robert, whose lips were still circled around the piece of licorice she had given him. Now that he was to blame, apparently, he pulled it from his mouth and then shot Kate a look. It wasn't likely he would be blamed because people tended to think that if you wore a button up shirt that you were more mature than Twizzler tossing. Fist fights in the planetarium with Twizzlers wasn't his idea of a good time. Unforgettable, like when a nudist resort unexpectedly needed to be evacuated, but not good.

"I'll take your candy if I need to," it was said with the lift of his eyebrows. One might have thought he was giving her a death threat and not a candy threat, "As a curator I might be disgraced for getting kicked out of a museum."

There was the talk of what she considered to be home and it wasn't all that surprising that Rhy'Din wasn't home to her. Kate behaved like she was on vacation, like everything around her was a temporary situation. That turned out to be more true than he had thought. She mentioned leaving it all behind, but she didn't smirk as if it was nothing. Robert thought about Seattle, about Olympia and the Alexandra library. His thoughts moved on to New York, talking with Gus in the rain, lingering at Hemingways. He had not hopped from planet to planet, but he knew what it was like to uproot, pack everything into the back of a truck and just go. His side thoughts lingered, "Leaving it all behind... and still missing some parts of each place." He reached down, taking one of the Twizzlers she had tucked in his shirt to tap her gently on the nose, "And you would have to find a way to manage, somehow, without a pickle."

Twizzler fight at a nudist resort. That? could be interpreted a few ways. It was on the list.

Kate had to clap a hand over her mouth to keep from giggling loudly, highly amused by both his threat and the potential consequences. ?Not disgraced!!? she hissed out, trying to whisper through her laughter. ?Whatever will happen to the family name?? Even put the back of her hand to her forehead and struck a pose before lapsing into almost-silent laughter again. The narrator cleared his throat loudly, casting her a pointed look before continuing on.

"Yes... yes... my father and mother... the whole clan of Brohkuns will shake their heads at me before turning back to their silent vigil of a Holocaust site." His words couldn't be any heavier, the delivery was respectably straight faced while also leaning towards being truly harassed by her. Not that it was a deterrent. The narrator's gaze was met and he turned his head away, forcing his usually awkward smile with a follow up 'sorry' for the man's irritation. Robert couldn't have said what prompted him to make peace with the narrator except that he wasn't ready to get kicked out just yet.

Uncowed, it took her a few minutes to calm herself. ?There are plenty of pickles in the sea, but each one is unique. They all have a different flavor. You?re the only pickle that tastes like a cookie, for example.? That was accompanied by a cheeky smile, an arch look down at his crotch, and then a bounce of her eyebrows. ?But I could always stick you in a jar of brine and take you with me. What would you do about that?? He was whapped lightly between the eyes with a bit of licorice.

The constellations, worlds that were better than some thought or just not nearly 'all that' which people promised continued to move overhead. The sky turned into different parts, leaving the Milky Way to discuss some other unexpected areas.

"Pickles... in the sea..." Indeed. He was wrapping his mind around the imagery of the first before she threw in the stark contradiction of cookies and pickles. Maybe it was good that she Twizzler-tapped him, he was starting to wonder just what the Hell had happened. "I think I need to solve my identity crisis with you before I can do anything." Cookie pickles and her look to his crotch, followed by the motion of her eyebrows left him uneasy enough that he shifted his weight, putting the end of his Twizzler back in his mouth.

?What?s a Holocaust site?? she whispered back, ignoring the narrator for the conversation, which was far more interesting. This stuffed shirt wasn?t going to tell her anything about these planets she didn?t already know and even if that were the case, she?d never trust someone else?s opinion. Better to just travel there herself, see it firsthand. Experience always trumped belief, every time.

Kate snickered for the way he went from light, amused conversation to Grumpy Pickle; nicknames really seemed to set him off. ?Don?t be sour, Pickle,? she crooned while leaning close. Even gave him a peck on the cheek! ?Just wait until we get to space and you can see the light of the stars for yourself, it will make you all better. You?ll be a Star Pickle.? Grinning wide, Kate tried to poke another licorice into his mouth.

"On Earth there were a lot of countries," he was whispering for her, but it was a storytelling moment. His eyes were far off as he made the recollection, "In one of these countries they had begun to extinguish what they thought was a subset of people. Millions of them. Worked to death, burned," a small motion of his hand in the air, "Holocaust means large scale destruction, but the event on Earth was so uniquely horrible that they called it The Holocaust. There were others, at other times but... " his eyes focused back on the present moment. On her face, "some people couldn't believe it was real."

The crooning and the peck on the cheek were taken with a flat stare, but he seemed on the precipice of humoring her when she said he'd be a star. Promises of Hollywood and Vegas. His lips pursed when she tried to poke the licorice at his mouth. Seemed he aimed to be his usual brand of difficult.

Lips set in a thin line, pale eyes turned to flint as he mentioned large scale genocide of a certain type of people. It made her shiver to think what might have happened if things had gotten to that point on her home world. Her people. Could she even call them that, anymore? It had been so long that Kate had even crossed paths with anyone else from that planet let alone one of her kind but she didn?t know if she?d greet them or not. Mixed feelings swirled in the pit of her stomach and she didn?t like it.

Pulling back, the rest of the licorice sticks were gathered in her hand and pulled out of the wrapper, then tossed straight up in the air. ?Red candy for everyone!? she yelled with a smirk. The Shusher was flipped off again and then she grabbed her jacket. ?Come on, I need a drink. Let?s get out of here.?

Robert had been born it Italy, but it was after WWI that he immigrated to America and avoided serving for WWII. The first war had been enough and after it, he realized it wasn't a place for him to be. He was neither a wartime hero nor was he a parasite, happily filled with all the woes around him. They were tainted. Robert needed sorrow but the vast majority of it was pain, it was... tainted for him, somehow. Or maybe it was just too intense and a lower level demon like him couldn't handle the rich sorrows of a holocaust.

Red Licorice for everyone. The bag went up and when it splattered on the ground like a pinata, red bits of candy scattered as far as their sticky texture allowed. She grabbed her jacket and he cleared his throat, shoving the rest of the candy in his mouth before they made out like bandits through the museum. No fare paid and no full attention to their fake stars. It reminded him of his Creatures of Light Exhibit, how there had been forgeries of the real thing, which never seemed to impress anyone. People wanted the real deal, as it turned out.

"I know a place where we can get a drink." He said it when they were outside and he was fitting his purple helmet back on as he looked at her. Was Kate still claiming the driver's seat tonight, literally and figuratively?