route_1065 | Leave my door open just a crack, 'cause I feel like such an insomniac

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Current Location: Ecruteak City Inn

Entry tags:

Leave my door open just a crack, 'cause I feel like such an insomniac

Who: Dale Cooper and Heather Mason
Where: the Ecruteak City Inn
When: Wednesday night, 2:33 AM
Summary: Losing beloved friends and gaining unwanted reminders of the past in payment... none of that makes for a peaceful night's sleep, not even in peaceful little Ecruteak City. Some people think that the best cure for a churning, restless mind on bad-dream-filled nights is to indulge the sweet tooth a bit. Which is why Heather is slipping down to the (closed) inn kitchen in search of some ice cream, when she encounters the only thing worse than being forced to remedy a lack of ice cream by 'borrowing' some: getting busted by a cop for doing just that.
.... Except that it turns out he's down there for the exact same reason she is!

...

... She won't tell if he won't.
Rating: G
Log:
For anyone who's grown accustomed to spending time in the cities where the population's collective bedtime seems not to roll entirely around until at least three in the morning, it's surprisingly jarring to suddenly find oneself in a town where it's the exact opposite.

The town of Ecruteak sat in the middle of a blanket of forest sort of like an elderly cat-- sleepy and quiet, save for the quiet purr of the wind through the trees and shingled rooftops. Far from the busybodies of places like Goldenrod, the population of Ecruteak was old and happy, and therefore on principal, virtually all activity in the city seemed to die out entirely by the time the clocks hit 1:00 AM.

Peaceful was a good word to describe the place. No far-off music (apart from the everlasting 8-bit soundtrack, of course), no voices filtering in through the windows as groups of nightlife-enjoyers walked past down the street, no clunky footsteps of people going up and down the stairs of the inns at all hours of the night. Nothing to keep your average weary traveler from their beauty sleep, not even on a warm night like this one.

... Unfortunately, for one Heather Mason, the it was that very silence itself that was keeping her awake.

And-- after a whole hour of tossing and turning after startling awake in a cold sweat around one-thirty, she knew that even if sleep were eventually to come, it wouldn't be a sleep she wanted to slip into, nor would it mute all the noise in her own head.

Which was why, a quietly-shut door and a few creaky wooden steps later, she was standing in the dark Employees-Only kitchen of the Ecruteak City inn in a tank-top and boxer shorts, scratching the back of her ankle absentmindedly with one bare foot as she tried to work out which stainless-steel fridge door was the one that led to the freezer component, and whether or not it would make much noise if she just... opened it and took a look at what was inside.

If there had been room service available at all hours like there had been in the big Goldenrod Hotel, she'd have done the nice, legal thing and ordered something like a responsible human being. But THIS place practically shut down at midnight (what the hell?!), so she couldn't. Really, there was just no alternative.

Besides, they wouldn't miss a little bit of ice cream, right?

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Cooper is thinking along the same lines as Heather, even if he doesn't know it. 24-hour room service is, as he put it himself what feels like ages ago, a premiere achievement of modern civilisation ... and Ecruteak doesn't offer it.

In fact, very few places in Johto do - Goldenrod and Olivine, to his knowledge, and while there might be something to appreciate about that, he definitely can't figure out exactly what that something might be right now.

When he'd slipped out of bed, feet bare against the fairly chilly floor, he'd contemplated a walk. A simple walk in cold air on deserted streets can really do a thing or two for your mind, but (and he'd figured this out rather quickly) what he really wanted was either caffeine or sugar. And caffeine was ruled out quickly.

The corridors in the Ecruteak inn aren't that long. He walks them quietly, and stops only once to look out a window. The streets are empty but moonlit; the sky is dark. Mostly cloudy, he notes, not a lot of stars visible. Not that he recognises any of the constellations in Johto, but it's just another thing to remind him that this really isn't home.

But one or two things still work the same way, such as food generally being found in kitchens. He knows where the kitchen is and is pretty sure he can find his way in. It's not something he'd normally do (but really, he's driven to it by the lack of room service and refrigerators in the rooms) but he can pay them back later, explain and possibly apologise in the morning. In any case, that's not very high on his list of priorities at the moment.

... the fact that the kitchen door is already open becomes his top one, actually, when he finds it ajar. The kitchen itself is dark but he's pretty sure there's someone else there - the way you just know, sometimes. This doesn't present much of a problem to him, really, but it spikes his curiosity and he pushes the door open carefully and steps inside with an expression not entirely dissimilar from that of a kid who's about to find out a secret.

Seeing just who else is there ... he's somehow not surprised.

"Hi, Heather."

There's something virtually universal about the glow of an open fridge in the middle of the night.

When Cooper made his unexpected entrance, Heather happened to be right in the middle of taking that plunge and opening the door. As such, when she jerked around to face the cop with a gasp, the door came with her and spilled light into the kitchen, emphasizing the fact that he'd just scared the b'jeezus out of her by making her look even paler and more washed-out. She hadn't even heard him coming.

Aaaaand that meant... that she'd just been caught red-handed.

By a cop.

SHIT.

Immediately gulping and leaning against the door to shut it again, in that nonchalant OH HA HA WHAT'S THAT DOING OPEN way, she folds her arms. The question that was intended to come out as casual (or at least natural) of course winds up sounding more defensive than not.

"What're you doing here?"

Edited 2011-09-15 02:25 (UTC)

"I could ask you the same."

The answer is calm, even, and in his typical manner there's that mild amusement beneath the surface. He's not smiling when he shoots her an eyebrows-raised-look, but his expression is open.

Cooper already figured out she's there for the same reason as him - it's really rather obvious - but he tosses the question back mostly to see what she'll say to it.

He finds himself recalling the first time they met face to face. Goldenrod City, heavy rain ... and a similar look of oh crap on her face. The difference here (other than the setting) is that he probably couldn't look less threatening tonight if he tried. Navy blue pajamas just can't cut it the same way a suit can ... not to mention he's warmed up to her considerably since then.

But in the end he supposes it doesn't really matter what the situation is. You'll always have a similar reaction to being caught with your hand in the cookie jar - or the fridge, as the case may be.

Yep.

He's pretty much 100% correct.

He doesn't look threatening in the slightest. ... Which is more apparent than ever to Heather as she lets her eyes flick up and down, taking the whole picture in. ... Are those... pajamas?

But nonetheless, she folds her arms even tighter and stands up straight, as though she's not in her OWN sleepwear (although hers is, she makes a thankful mental note, nowhere near as dorky as his) and standing barefoot in a room she's not supposed to be in. Her answer will probably just amuse Coop more, although it's obvious she's trying to counter his curiosity with the classic 'no u' argument.

"You first."

"Same as you, I believe."

He offers it like it should be obvious, along with a smile that's a little crooked. He picks that moment to push at the door behind him gently, letting it very-nearly-close, but not entirely. Those big fridges and freezers do give out a lot of light, after all...

And that smile grows into a halfway sort of grin as he adresses her again.

"I hope you found something sugary in there."

Her brows furrow at that reply.

The same as her...?

... And then, when he closes the door, his meaning slowly dawns on her. And it is met with a blank expression for a moment or two, as she first stares at at him with an expression that's somewhere between bafflement, incredulity, and '... buh?' ... and then at the freezer, which is emitting cool steam and that grumbly hum that freezers so often do, along with the frigid light. ... Then she looks back up at Cooper.

"... I won't tell if you won't."

He considers that for a moment. The original plan had been telling, but ... what the hell. It's harmless, it's the middle of the night, and in all honesty, he highly doubts the innkeeper will notice - the off, slightly mechanic ways of most locals never really stopped unnerving him. He can always give them an extra big tip for a while to be sure there's no loss in profit, anyway.

All in all: sure, he can agree to that.

"It's a deal."

He shuts the door completely before going further into the room. There's a rather big open space and he stands in the middle of it, looking at Heather expectantly - again, not entirely unlike a kid. The way his hair is for once not gelled back probably helps with this image.

Go on, open it.

Edited 2011-09-15 04:49 (UTC)

Slowly, she turns back to face the freezer, although her gaze remains focused sideways on Cooper for a second or two and she's rubbing one arm uncertainly, as though possibly doubting his word.

... But maybe it's that little spark of mischief in his face (one she never quite expected to see), or maybe it IS that silly bedhead hairdo he's sporting-- SOMETHING makes her grin at him in a distinctly kidlike up-to-no-good manner before reaching down to slide open the freezer drawer. And then bends down to peer inside with her hands on her knees.

"... Looks like there's the usual flavors... plus a few others."

"Any chocolate?"

Priorities: he's got them. He stands beside her, still straight, a hand on the side of the freezer as he looks down. There's those cold wisps of air coming up from the freezer box and man... his original plan had been to rummage the place for leftover cookies or donuts, but he's all for this ice cream idea. He hasn't had it for a rather long time now - and it's been pretty warm for September, so maybe it's appropriate.

Reaching in, she snags a carton of good, old-fashioned chocolate with one hand and then holds it up with one flat palm, like she's offering him a silver platter rather than a frost-covered carton. But given the situation, the carton's probably a more welcome sight than a platter would be, anyway.

"Your wish is granted."

With the other hand, she's rummaging through the other cartons. Not particularly interested in limiting herself to one flavor. If this is going to be a crazy law-breaking ice cream raid, she wants to try a little of everything.

He gladly accepts the carton and moves away for a couple of minutes to set it on the counter - there is a smallish table nearby, but he's going to search for spoons before relocating to it.

Finding the right drawer pretty quickly, he gets two (figuring Heather would want to eat ice cream with her fingers about as much as he does) and puts them next to the chocolate ice cream, thinking he'll let that thaw a little as he once again goes to see what kind of things Heather might find ... and hold up.

"Is that orange?"

Very, very excited about that particular flavour of ice cream, it seems.

"Orange?"

She hefts the carton he indicated, squinting in the cold light at the label.

"Hnn.... no, looks like mango."

.... Whoa shit, mango. DO want. 8I She pulls it out (because mango), but leans in to peer further.

"I see another orange-colored one back there, though-- uh... 'orange creamsicle'?" Pulling it out, she hefts it and waggles it in the air for him. "You want?"

"Mango, huh? ... I like the sound of that."

He actually sounds a little wistful, grin still in place. This? Is going to be good.

And orange creamsicle sounds even better, and he holds a hand out for the new carton when she asks.

"Yes, please."

"I'll fight ya for it." YOU DON'T GET BETWEEN HEATHER AND MANGOS, BRO. ... But she might be willing to share, in the spirit of friendship.

She hands over the orange creamsicle carton before reaching back in to take out a few more, herself. They've likely got a small pile now-- because Heather is the furthest thing from picky when it comes to ice cream and seriously, look at all these flavors.

The cooks won't even notice if they just take a little from each carton, right?

Cooper is hardly picky himself, but he's looking pretty pleased with what they've got at this point - not to mention he's got chocolate and orange, so he's already considering this a success.

He goes to fetch the spoons he'd gotten earlier and hands one to Heather without comment - the message is probably pretty clear. Something along the lines of let's start digging in on this already.

Heather is all kinds of okay with this plan.

When he hands her the spoon, she takes it without hesitation before leaning back against the drawer and sliding it shut again, cutting off the cold vapor. Then she shuts the fridge door and plants her back against it so that she can just sort of... oooze down into a sitting position, letting the cool surface rest against the bare skin on her shoulders and lower back. It IS a warm night. ... She'll regret sitting there once the ice cream goosebumps start setting in, but whatever. Ice cream now, regrets later.

Then she draws one knee to her chest and rests the mango carton on it, digging the spoon into its contents with enthusiasm.

This may not have been the most pleasant night so far, but she has to admit... apart from the scare he'd given her when he'd shown up, having a little company for this escapade was infinitely better for getting her mind off of things than eating ice cream alone would've been.

"How'sh the creamshicle?"

Well, if she takes position on the floor ... it's rapport, after all, and he sits down angled towards her but not across from her; crosslegged. And after just the first spoonful of orange and vanilla he looks practically blissful. He would never, ever get enough of simple things like that. Of flavours.

An audible 'mm' sound should be enough answer, really, as he goes for the second mouthful - and having swallowed that, takes the time to answer. With a broad smile.

"Wonderful. Any chance I can trade some for that mango of yours?"

REAL ICE CREAM THIEVES EAT IT ON THE FLOOR LIKE BADASSES.

Heather's never exactly been a food connoisseur, but even as a kid, she'd always been an adventurous eater. The more flavorful, the better-- maybe it was a throwback from Alessa's life. The Gillespie household had never seen much in the way of tasty food. Tuna fish, canned greens, Wonderbread... getting to grow up again eating good food had been pretty nice.

In hindsight? That totally explained the sweet tooth she'd picked up in her second go at life.

At his request, she pauses for a second, holding the mango carton up critically and bobbing her head a little as she rolls a spoonful of the stuff around in her mouth, visibly contemplating whether or not to give it to him. For a second, she withdraws it a little in a possessive stance, giving Cooper a mock-surly squint, but then relents and holds it out with a crooked grin.

"Aw, all right... but only if I get some of the chocolate."

"I believe that can be arranged- here."

Once he's located the right carton, he offers it to her, taking hold of the mango one at the same time before giving that a try ...

... it's heaven.

And he's definitely not going to let that go unsaid.

"This," he says as he digs his spoon in deeper into the ice cream, with complete conviction, "is a little piece of heaven."

Nevermind all the things that aren't, right now. That ice cream, in that precise moment, is just that good.

Taking hold of the chocolate, she wastes no time in scooping an overflowing spoonful out of that. The temperate air is starting to melt the frost on the outside of the containers, leaving them slippery.

Cooper's observation actually makes her snort a little as she swallows.

She'd thought he was odd before, of course... ever since she'd turned on the 'Gear that one time to find a video of him CHEERFULLY HANGING UPSIDE-DOWN FROM A TREE, she'd started to notice that he was hardly the stuffy, uptight policeman she'd always sort of imagined him to be (even if there had been a certain fondness behind that interpretation).

But this-- from the fact that he'd joined her in her late-night fridge raid to the look of pure, blissful joy on his face as he enjoys the spoils of their hunt-- just makes her realize she has no clue what to make of him.

With some people, that'd be an unsettling feeling, but with Cooper, Heather's already decided right then and there that she likes this weird new impression more than the far-less-fun one she had in mind before.

"I dunno, I think for it to be heaven, we'd need some chocolate sauce and sprinkles," she remarks, pausing to scrape around the edges of the chocolate carton. "But the mango is pretty great, not gonna lie."

In response to that, he makes a small humming sound before setting the mango carton down, tapping his spoon a little against the rim as if thinking. That does sound pretty good, and he shoots her a look.

"Think they have any?"

In many ways he feels many years younger right now, and it's far from a bad feeling. Moreover, it's something he's going to allow himself. Everyday, once a day, give yourself a present, after all - this would be that present for today. He's actually failed in following his own advice lately and this could not be a better return to it.

He senses they both need it, really. Though it's gone unadressed there's a very good reason neither of them could sleep tonight.

It says a lot about Cooper that his immediate response is that and not the usual disapproving frown at the suggestion of adding MORE sugary substances to the mix.

... And it also probably says a lot about Heather that her reaction is to stare over at him for a second or two, and then wordlessly set the carton down on the floor and get up, spoon still in mouth.

BRB RE-INVESTIGATING THE FRIDGE.

But it's true. Cheeriness aside, Heather's actually very curious about what might really have brought Cooper down here in the middle of the night... but... asking can wait until after they've had a chance to enjoy their ice cream a little more.

Following her lead, he goes to check various cabinets. Sprinkles are normally not in fridges, after all, so he'll make it his mission to find them.

It takes him a moment, but after a little while he does find two different kinds - one like the standard small sugary rods, but the other little container has Pichus and Jigglypuffs on the label ... so he shakes a few of them into his hand experimentally, and much like heart- or star-shaped sprinkles back home, these are shaped like tiny pokémon heads. Pichus and Jigglypuffs.

It's ... well. Shaking his head with a small smile, he heads back the small distance to check on Heather's progress, commenting as he goes and holding up his finds for her to see.

"They're really everywhere, aren't they?"

She's withdrawn from the fridge, holding a plastic squeeze-bottle of something or other.

When she turns to look at the brightly-colored little candies (let's face it, that's basically what sprinkles are), she can't help but laugh a little, after pulling the spoon from her mouth.

"... Yep. Yeah, they really are. S'sorta funny how this whole culture revolves around them so much..."

Giving the bottle she'd found a shake, she holds it up, closing the fridge door with one foot.

"S'not chocolate sauce, but I think it's like... butterscotch or something."

In many ways it's easy to understand why everyone are so obsessed with Pokémon in this place, given that they really, really ARE pretty damn extraordinary ... but that's a topic for another time.

Closing his hand a little, Cooper pours the little candies into his mouth before looking at what she's gathered and nods. Does look like butterscotch, fairly standard, but slightly different than your average blend.

In the end, though, it's still sugar, and he grins at her.

"I don't know about you, but I'd say that's good enough."

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