Crank enters the diner, a.k.a bar, a few steps behind Simone. Hector glances up and offers them a conspiratorial smile. Even without his glasses, Hector can make out that something is different about the young man. Least of which, being his change in wardrobe. Must have been some night.

On this particular day, the diner is not empty. Three other people, besides the resident drunk, are enjoying a leisurely afternoon meal. Paul, drunk as always, stares into space. His head sways to and fro, and his lips move wordlessly. Surprisingly, his dirty blanket is folded up and pushed to the farthest end of the table. He is waiting for something.

One woman, a postal worker, scrutinizes Crank from head to toe before going back to her steak and eggs. A folded newspaper sits beside her plate, and she looks over at it from time to time. However, she can't stop herself from sneaking glances in Crank's direction.

Young people sure did dress strange these days. Those leg protectors coupled with those boots? Talk about a major fashion faux-pas. Probably one of those gothic punks? Maybe even a pagan? Who knows anymore?

The woman uses her fork to slice a piece of steak from the main portion, and then blows on the surface. Crank watches hungrily as steam rises from the meat, the aroma making his stomach churn with expectation. He tears his eyes away from the postal worker as she lifts the sliver of meat to her mouth. If only they didn’t burn the meat first.

The other two people in the diner, a young man and woman, are seated at the stools in front of the bar. They give Crank and Simone kind smiles before turning their eyes back on each other; hands clasped in a gesture of blind devotion. The red-haired man leans over and whispers into his partner's ear. She smacks his arm with an open hand and then falls almost drunkenly onto his chest. They share a good laugh and exchange a brief kiss.

Hector comes around the counter, expertly balancing a plate heaping with bacon strips and biscuits. Reaching Paul's table, Hector sets the plate down in front of the one-legged drunkard. He peers down at Paul with an expression of sadness and pity.

“Here ya go, Paul!” Hector drawls. “Left over from the morning crowd that never showed. It's on the house. As usual."

Paul nods in a grateful gesture and commences eating. The town drunkard downs the food as if it is the best thing he has eaten in ages. Simone looks away when Paul shoves two strips of bacon and a biscuit into his mouth, and swallows with barely a single chew.

As Hector makes his way back behind the counter, he smirks at Crank and Simone. Simone whispers to Crank out of the side of her mouth.

"Read the menu," Simone utters softly.

Crank glances at her in confusion.

"What--?" Crank says, but Simone cuts him off.

"The menu...The thing with pictures of food all over it. Pick it up. Pretend to look at it." Simone clarifies.

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Crank does as she insists. He reaches for the menu and raises it up awkwardly.

"Not like that," Simone hisses almost inaudibly. "Lower. You look like a doofus."

Crank isn't sure what a doofus is, but he lowers the menu slightly. About half of his face is now obscured by the scentless food paper. How is one to know if they wish to eat something if it has no smell.

Hector's smirk grows wider and he begins wiping down the counter with his signature dingy dish towel. Wishing he had thought to put on his glasses, Hector looks Simone up and down. She sure is a pretty gal. A little fresh and young for his taste. Yet, pretty all the same. And the young fella? Did he really have all that hair the previous evening?

“It’s nice to see you two in here again,” Hector says, his smirk growing still larger. “Anything interesting happen since we last saw you both?”

Simone shoots Hector a sarcastic, yet friendly, look.

“No,” Simone says and swivels on her stool. “But let’s just say…I’m dying for something close to home-cooked. What kind of specials you got?”

Hector’s smirk remains a fixture on his face. He pats Simone’s hand before glancing over at Crank.

“I’ll surprise you,” Hector says with a wink.

Throwing his dingy towel over one shoulder, Hector heads for the kitchen. Simone turns to Crank and crosses two fingers. She offers him a small wink.

"So far...So good."

Crank peers at her from around the menu. Simone sighs heavily and puts a hand on her hip.

"You can put that down now," she says softly.

Crank lowers the menu to the counter with a hard thunk. Simone jumps, from the sudden noise, and glances around the diner. The other patrons are too busy to give the two of them much notice. When a person gets used to hearing engines backfiring, and horns blaring all day; a menu slamming down on a counter is small potatoes.

A wide smile spreads onto Crank's face and Simone realizes that he did it on purpose. She rolls her eyes and jabs him lightly in the ribs with an elbow. Slapping his knee with the palm of her hand, she shakes her head with feigned disappointment.

"Doofus," she hisses playfully. She smiles at him, the bright twinkle again returning to her eyes.

Crank considers returning her elbow jab, but thinks better of it. He settles for resting his gloved hand on her knee. Simone raises her eyes to meet his and again she feels a strange tug deep in her psyche. Crank's eyes narrow behind the false eyelid of his ooman disguise. Simone's heart skips a beat and her eyes drop to Crank's lips.

"What the hell is this?" she wonders for the hundredth time.

She remembers the feel of Crank's hand sliding behind her neck. The feel of his mandibles as they found purchase, bringing her face closer to his. The gentle way, he'd eased his mouth over hers, careful to keep his catlike teeth from raking the flesh of her lips. The shiver which coursed her spine, as he encircled her waist with his muscular arm.

Blinking rapidly, Simone wrenches her eyes from Crank's disguised lips. Crank immediately realizes that something is off. He squeezes Simone's knee with his hand. His action only serves to agitate Simone more, and she shifts on her stool.

"What is wrong?" Crank whispers, lowering his face to the level of Simone's ear.

Simone turns to face him, and their faces are barely inches apart.

"Nothing," Simone lies. She attempts a forced smile. "Nothing."

"You are lying," Crank says. "You are afraid of me."

"No," Simone says hastily. "It's not that... It's...Well...This is one heck of a rebound."

Deep lines appear in the forehead of Crank's ooman disguise.

"A rebound? I do not understand," Crank responds truthfully.

"Don't worry about it," Simone says. She pecks Crank softly on the cheek. "It's just a silly human expression."

Simone turns back forward on her stool and exhales deeply. Crank continues to peer in Simone's direction, watching red color slowly appear in her cheeks.