xp_logs | Nathan, Sofia and Ray; Johnny Rockets (Reply)

Nathan and Rachel take Sofia out for lunch. Ray is not a demon baby, for once. We're all very surprised.

“This is the most disturbing place I have ever seen.”

Chrome, red vinyl, checkerboard tile, as far as the eye could see; Sofia had walked into a 50’s diner. She should have been suspicious when Nathan had not mentioned the actual name of the restaurant they would be having lunch at, instead giving her only an address. But, she had been kind, given him the benefit of the doubt, that it was a small hole in the wall with rats and cockroaches and fantastic guacamole. Instead, there was a blonde girl in a terribly high ponytail coming towards her with a large grin and bobbysocks.

“I’ve found my dining partner, go away,” she clipped at her, before she could open her mouth, and made her way over to Nathan and the small redhead in a clatter of highheels.

"Oh, look, Ray, there's the third member of our party," Nathan said brightly as Sofia approached the table. "Doesn't she look so very impressed by our choice of restaurants."

Rachel merely sipped at her sippy cup, her gray eyes wide and fascinated as she took in the diner. The neon seemed to be snagging the bulk of her attention. Nathan smiled at her. He really needed to take her out more often.

“Yes, positively thrilled. First the place with the mirrored ceiling, next the one with chrome. Really, stop playing and just take me to a topless bar, would you?” she replied smoothly, sliding her purse across her side of the booth where it hit the wall, before coming over to kiss Nathan on the cheek. “And you must be the offspring. Hello.”

"Hi," Rachel piped up, smiling at Sofia and waving a plump little hand. "Hi."

"That would be her favorite word these days. That and boom. I can't imagine where she picked up the latter." He smiled at Sofia as she sat down. "You look well. Life at the brownstone must be agreeing with you."

“Pleasure to meet you,” Sofia answered with a small nod, making her way into her seat, where it squeaked in a greeting; at least it wasn’t summer and sticking to the back of her legs. She wrinkled her nose anyway. “I get out more,” she finally replied to Nathan in a wry tone as she spread out her menu. “But. I am well, thank you. For which my liver thanks me, I’m sure. And how are you? It seems you survived the jetlag.”

"The jetlag gets worse as I get older," Nathan said wryly, "but a couple of days of forcing myself to stick to the right schedule usually sets me right." Rachel giggled, and he raised an eyebrow at her. "Disputing that, are we?"

"Da," Rachel said wisely, and picked up her sippy cup again.

Sofia turned her head to the side and nodded, whether at Nathan or in response to Rachel, not entirely conclusive. “And what is the lady drinking this afternoon?” she asked. “Or eating, for that matter... it there anything here not fried?”

"The lady has a glass of milk. We were waiting on you to actually order - there looks to be some decent salads?" Nathan offered rather meekly. "Personally, I'm going for one of their hamburgers... I eat either too healthy or too little most of the time so something nicely artery-clogging will be good." He eyed Rachel, concentrating. She stared right back at him, and father and daughter both tilted their heads in a frighteningly identical gesture. "And I think Ray will have the chicken tenders. Although she may play with them as much as eat them."

Making an odd noise of surprise, Sofia flipped to the front of the menu, scanning quickly. “Perfect,” she said, before turning her head and catching the blonde from earlier’s eye; she came over warily. “I won’t eat you. Would you take our order, please? The gentleman will have the number...” she paused, waiting for Nathan’s hand gesture, “Three hamburger, the young lady will have the chicken tenders, and I will have the adult portion with fries, and a pitcher of ice water. Thank you.” Dismissing the young woman, Sofia returned to facing Nathan. “I’m not always a salad girl.”

"That's reassuring?" Nathan said with the meek tone that usually either got him a glare or a laugh and a smack upside the head from the women in his life. Rachel giggled again, but as she was in mid-sip, started to cough, and Nathan leaned over with a napkin, sighing. "I was hoping you'd be a little older before I made you start snorting things through your nose, munchkin." Rachel made a number of highly exaggerated faces as he cleaned hers, and then stuck her tongue out at him.

“Cleaning out a persons nose. That’s love,” Sofia observed wryly, a hint of a smile twitching at the corner of her mouth.

"Da," Rachel said disapprovingly, then smiled hugely at Sofia. "Hi." Her sippy cup levitated a few centimetres off the tray of her high chair and Nathan pursed his lips, pushing it back down. She sniffed at him.

"She's showing off for you, I think," Nathan said to Sofia. "I'd just rather she doesn't do that in public." He looked a bit abashed. "You know, this is the first time she's been in New York since San--since July?"

It was Sofia’s turn to give Nathan a disapproving look, as her cutlery removed itself from it’s napkin and did a wee pirouette before landing on top of it. “Why ever not? I’m enjoying it,” she asked firmly, an odd glitter in her eyes. “Thank you, Rachel.”

Oh, now they were ganging up on him. "I just don't think it's entirely safe. That's all. Safely away from mobs with pitchforks, I actually encourage her to make with the telekinetic tricks."

“I’ll protect you,” she said, her voice strange, suddenly. An edge of brittleness. “And her. I promise, Rachel will remain pitchfork free. At least until she’s a teenager and decides to put holes in herself.”

Rachel looked from Nathan to Sofia, then sniffed again, a suspicious level of woe in her eyes. Nathan reached out and smoothed down her red curls, then looked at Sofia. "I'm a little overprotective," he said, not quite lightly.

“She’s very lucky,” she answered after a moment, honestly and with something sad swimming in the amber of her gaze. “You’re lucky, baby girl. But you already know that, I’m sure.” Sofia returned to Nathan, the mourning already gone. “Where the he- heck is our lunch?”

The waitress reappeared, as if on cue, balancing the three plates easily. As she set the plates down and then retreated with another perky smile, Nathan fastened the paper bib that she had supplied earlier for Rachel, who let him do so tolerantly.

"I do have something for you, by the way," he said to Sofia. "Angelo and I had time to spend two whole mornings in the souk."

“If it’s neon, has flashing lights or plays ‘London Bridge’, I donate it to the angel here,” Sofia said, rearranging her newly arrived food to her liking, before ripping a chicken strip into half and dipping it into the honey dill sauce.

"You wound me. Would I get you something tacky? I'll have you know I have excellent choice in gifts." Nathan reached into the Great Bag of Baby Gear and pulled out the small cloth bag that held what he'd picked for Sofia. "The shopkeeper didn't believe in boxes. Small quirk."

Wiping her fingertips on her napkin, Sofia kept a narrowed, suspicious eye on him, but took the surprisingly heavy bag, gently pouring the contents into her palm. A silver bracelet, carved and weathered, landed there, a cool weight against her skin. She turned it over, pushing against the clasp to open and slip it around her wrist. “It’s beautiful. I assume your boy picked it out?”

Nathan's mouth twitched. "Of course. You can't rely on my taste, after all. Just ask my wife. I'll make sure I tell Angelo you appreciate his eye for antiques." Rachel chortled and gnawed on a chicken tender. "Interesting, as Angelo would tell you if he was here, from the engraving and style of that bracelet, it's not actually Omani. Must have made its way up from Yemen sometime in the last eighty years or so. It's ironic," Nathan said thoughtfully, turning his attention to his hamburger. "Given that Yemen is really where we should have been. Maybe I should take finding that in the souk as a good omen for the future."

“This Angelo of yours is very knowledgeable. And talented at finding helpful charms. I’ll loan it to you, whenever you need,” she answered, letting the name slide off her native tongue.

"I take whatever luck I can get, whenever I can get it," Nathan said whimsically. "I need more than my share, you know. And my old good luck charm is busy running around pissing off fundamentalists in the name of doing humanitarian work these days..."

Sofia rolled her eyes with a sigh, gesturing at Rachel with a French fry. “Your daddy is waving his backstory around again. It’s very rude to those of us who have enough reading to do already without going through the cabinet marked ‘Dayspring’.”

"What, you mean you didn't meet Domino when she was in town? Well, I suppose that meeting his coworkers wasn't on the top of her list of things to do with Pete, given that she hasn't seen him in months," Nathan said with a perfectly straight face.

“Ooh, don’t. I’m trying to eat. And to never have to picture Peter naked ever. I’m not saying I want children, but at the same time, I like my ovaries right where they are and in their non-shriveled up and turned to dust state.” Sofia made a face, complete with tongue sticking out.

"You'd like Dom. Her taste in men aside." Nathan reached out and wiped a bit of sauce off Rachel's face. "You're doing well there, champ," he complimented her. "Except that your mother would murder me for letting you eat this sort of thing. Still, it can't be bananas and all that healthy crap all the time, can it?"

“You’re teaching the lady naughty words,” Sofia half sang, half muttered under her breath. “On top of those bad eating habits. You’re very close to being a bad influence, mister.”

"The worst." Rachel giggled at him joyfully, and her remaining chicken pieces promptly did a little dance. Nathan started to push the food back down to the plate - and then paused, shrugging.