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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"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."

THEY ARE KITCHEN ADVENTURERS, SEEKING THE SUGAR RUSH.

"F'it's good enough for you, s'good enough for me," she replies, grinning back. ... And then takes a look at the cartons. It'd probably be a bad idea to pour butterscotch and sprinkles straight in there.

"... I guess we're gonna need bowls if we have that stuff."

A pity... it always seemed to taste better when it was straight out of the carton. But oh well! Ice cream was ice cream!

He doesn't answer other than a nod and goes to get a pair of bowls from a fairly large cabinet he'd suspsected would hold them - staff kitchens weren't all that different from your regular ones. There was just typically more of everything.

He hands one of them to Heather and goes to pick up the mango carton. There's still a fair amount of ice cream left but it's been melting for a while, making it easy to scoop up but probably a bad idea to leave out for too long.

"We better put it back in a moment."

Ever the responsible adult - but they can at least take what they'd like from them first.

"... Yeah."

No one likes the consistency of melted-and-then-re-frozen ice cream.

Heather takes the bowl and shovels a healthy portion of mango into it before taking smaller scoops from some of the other cartons-- she likes everything, but mango's her weakness.

"Wouldn't wanna have the kitchen people be all like 'Ey, wot's all dis now?'"

She mimes a sour, disapproving 'SOMEONE STOLE THIS ICE CREAM' frown to go with the silly accent. ... Nobody in Ecruteak (or anywhere else in Johto) actually sounded like that.

There's a fairly equal amount of orange, chocolate and mango in his bowl, but Cooper adds a little bit of vanilla and pear to disturb the balance before he starts putting the lids back on the boxes.

"What's that, Scottish?"

It comes out a tiny bit distracted, but he looks enteratined when he gives her a look over the various ice cream cartons.

He'd never imagined he'd end up in this kind of situation, but he finds that he's enjoying Heather's company, however unexpected. While they were certainly off to a rocky start their relationship is different from the ones he normally forms - which shows especially well in her joking, witty nature (...which might not that different from Albert's, on second thought, but her ways still set her apart from practically everyone Cooper knows), and to be honest that trait in particular is something he's starting to appreciate. It's a welcome distraction from what's really moving in his mind most of the time and this night is definitely no exception.

"Beats me."

Heather isn't exactly the most culturally-aware kid in the world.

Dolloping a generous portion of rocky road into her bowl, she then sticks the remaining cartons back into the fridge, licking a smudge of coffee ice cream off of her thumb as she does so.

To be fair, he's as surprised at this scenario as she is.

Even in the beginning when she was still more or less convinced that he was nosy and deserving of being met with a metaphorical dodgeroll every time he started getting curious enough to ask her questions, Heather had always been sort of fond of him. He was a detective, after all, and she had a soft spot for those-- okay, even if she had needed to reconcile that somewhat, considering he was an FBI agent and not a freelancer like Douglas. The addition of a policey side had made given her a somewhat negative image, despite the fact that she didn't honestly have any hard feelings.

But fondness aside, this?

Was just so supremely out of left field that she's kind of re-evaluating everything she thought she'd figured out about him.

But she grins at his amused expression, picking up her bowl again.

"You get the general idea, anyway."

Coop nods that he does as he pours a healthy amount of sprinkles over the mixed flavours in his bowl. Having moved over to the side table at this point as opposed to the floor - it's just that much easier to prepare ice cream at that height than on ground level - he perches on the edge of it and balances the bowl on one of his legs.

It's ... pretty cold, but it's fine. He woke up a while ago, anyway.

"Have you heard of the Glasgow ice cream wars?" he asks while passing her the sprinkles, figuring she'd like them about as much as he does. It's trivia time, apparently, but it was a natural connection to make in his head - Scotland and ice cream, after all.

Edited 2011-09-19 17:26 (UTC)

Taking the sprinkles (because HELLS yeah), she shakes out a slightly smaller amount onto her own ice cream before setting the tin down, looking back up at him with a PSHHHT SERIOUSLY? grin.

"No... but I WANT to. Gimme the details."

DEETS PLZ.

Anything with 'ice cream' and 'war' in the same sentence had to be worth hearing about.

In a way, it is woth hearing about, but he'll probably disappoint as far as entertainment value goes - that 'war' is much more serious than the name lets on.

"In the early eighties there was a lot of conflict among ice cream van operators in Glasgow," he starts after a pause to visibly relish in all of the sugary goodness, eyes closing briefly and everything. Food and him have a very, very loving relationship. Especially food that in the end isn't all that good for you.

"It mostly had to do with territory. It was all very violent, with raids and shootings of rivalling vans."

Another small moment of silence, but this time it's with a slightly faraway look out the small window. The moon isn't visible on this end so it's still fairly dark.

"No one was harmed until April 1984 when the situation culminated in arson, resulting in the death of six. Excessive for ice cream vendors - it turns out their business was a front for drug trafficking."

And that's the story, really. He gives her a small humourless smile before he resumes picking at his ice cream.

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