Who: Brian and Hunt
Where: A random little Italian restaurant
When: Lunchtime

Normally, Brian was picky about where he went out to eat. He had to know the cook was at least almost as good as he was, so he wouldn't spend the whole meal thinking about how he could have made whatever he was eating better or with a slightly different flavor or maybe would have cooked it longer, or something. It tended to ruin a meal for him.

Today, though, he didn't have much of a choice: when he called Hunt to invite him out for lunch, he'd picked what was open and what he knew hadn't been too badly vandalized. Besides, he wasn't sure he'd really be tasting whatever he ate, at this point, anyway. Especially not if there were more ghosts in the restaurant, like there were in the streets. So he pulled up at the little Italian place and climbed out of his car, doing his level best to ignore Torziel hopping out behind him and the dead woman passing on the sidewalk beside the tiny parking lot, instead looking around to see if the history teacher was there yet.

Brian was, truth be told, a little concerned about Hunt. After a night of being attacked by vampires, having said vampires spontaneously go up in flames right in front of him-- closed eyes or not, he should've at least heard the fire and the screams and figured out what had happened-- and then teleporting, Hunt had come to his birthday party perfectly fine and happy, as if nothing had happened. That... didn't seem right. Or normal. And he hadn't had a chance to talk to him since, so here he was, meeting him for lunch before work, and seeing if he really was okay or not.

Hunt had agreed to lunch as if nothing had been going on over the past few weeks, happily leaving behind the marking he was trying to catch up on now that school was back in session and heading out to meet his friend, oblivious to any concerns he had - much like Hunt was oblivious to a lot of other things. He'd arrived a little early, as he generally did, and he chosen a table where he sat, sipping a glass of mineral water. He noticed Brian appear and waved him over, not getting up.

The wave caught Brian's attention, and he waved, back, before heading over, cane in hand and stupid cat-demon at his heels. "Hey, man," he said as he dropped into the other chair, a little wearily. Lack of sleep plus jumpy from all the spirits around meant... yeah, a little tired. At least he got the seat that was not facing the street, so he didn't have to watch the people and not-people passing along behind him. "Hope you haven't been waiting long." Torziel wandered around to Hunt's side to sniff at his shoes.

"No way - been here about..." Hunt checked his watch before looking back at him. "...five minutes? Give or take." He frowned. "You okay - no offence man, but you look like shit," he commented, looking his friend up and down.

"How you always manage to get places before me, I don't think I'll ever know," Brian chuckled, leaning his cane against the side of the chair. "That bad, huh?" Well, he knew he did, really. He'd looked in a mirror before he'd left, but there wasn't much to be done for it. "Yeah, haven't been sleeping well, knee's acting up with all this damn cold, wet weather, probably drinking too much, that sort of thing...." Seeing spirits probably wasn't helping. "Hey, water for me, too?" he added as the waitress paused at the table, noting the new occupant, then went for the menu. "Thanks. --How 'bout you? You look... great." There was actually a little disbelief in that statement, just enough to be noticeable.

"Yeah, I've been sleeping really damn well lately, and now that school's back in session, I'm back to my routine," Hunt told him. Hunt hated his routine being thrown out of whack, it really bugged him. "Oh and apparently they have fettuccine on special today," he added, putting his own menu down and taking a sip of water.

"Aaah, only worth it if they toss it with blackened chicken," Brian said, scanning the menu. Though they might, he could ask. "I'm still working on the routine thing, but then, things still aren't quite back to normal around my place...." What with Marlowe still there, and not due to go home until the next day, when he had the day off to get her situated and to call if she needed anything. And the Domino thing, which he was still working on finding a "routine" for. But it felt better than it had, anyway. He was getting there. Hopefully his little flub that morning didn't throw too big a wrench in things. "Wish I were you. You seem to bounce back from shit a lot faster than you'd think."

"I do?" Hunt asked, sounding kinda surprised about that. He didn't really think of himself as someone who just 'bounced back', but then he supposed he'd never really had anything to bounce back from - his life was supremely boring in most places. Not that he had a problem with that, he liked it. It was calm and soothing and non-stressful. He'd never been much for the dramatics. "And anyone ever told you you're way too picky about your food?" he added, good-naturedly.

"Actually, no, I just like my meals to have a little meat in them. And yes, you do." Brian eyed Hunt with a little wary concern. "I mean, the town was under attack for a week, everything's in shambles, the people are nervous, and you had to fight and run away from some of the perpetrators yourself, during which some pretty weird things happened. And yet you're okay. No questions, no concerns, not even thinking about it. Hell, you don't even seem that upset that you never found your dog."

At the word "dog" Torziel, under the table, let out a disdainful growl and gave up on whatever he had been doing to flop possessively across Brian's feet. He was still pissed about Pride trying to chase him around, apparently. Or maybe Tayne's hollow threat that he should go get him a dog, who might actually like him, instead of a demon-cat.

Mutt. Hunt blinked, as if he'd been forgetting something. Mutt, his dog - he'd loved that dog, yet he'd - it seemed more like a vague memory now than anything else. She'd gone missing, hadn't she. And just never come back. He'd looked for her - he was sure he had, but he couldn't find her. "I should ring round the vets tomorrow. Try the animal shelters, see if I can find her," he said, frowning slightly, the back of his mind suggesting the dog was dead, as much as he tried to ignore that almost certainty.

This was definitely not right. Brian waited until the returning waitress had set his water down, waved her off with an apologetic smile that said they weren't ready ready, then said, not without sympathy, "Hunt, she went missing a week ago. More than a week ago, now. Eight days. In the middle of the town going to shit with a bunch of-- of psychopaths running around killing people." He still couldn't quite bring himself to say vampires. He didn't want to derail the conversation with Hunt's derision yet. "She had her tags, if someone had found her, they'd have called, brought her back. Hunt, did you forget she was gone?" Because that's kind of how it seemed.

Hunt took a rather too big gulp of his water as the world swam for a moment, before settling down again. "No - no! I didn't forget," he almost snapped, not like him at all. He took another drink, then set his glass down and straightened the knife and fork in front of him. "I didn't forget," he repeated, his voice more normal this time. He hadn't forgotten - he'd just... It felt like a long time ago, or something not this immediate anyhow. Everything that had happened over the last few weeks felt... removed. Unimportant. Hard to dwell on or think about, it was all fuzzy. Hunt frowned, then his face cleared and he picked up the menu. "We should order," he said with a smile, looking around for the waitress.

Brian sat back in his chair, actually a little startled by being snapped at-- or what, for Hunt, was a snap. "She'll be back in a minute. Hunt, what's up? And don't tell me nothing, because something is obviously up. You get distracted when we talk about a dog you love being gone for a week, we get attacked and you smashed somebody's face up and just shrug it off by the next day, and now you're freaking out on me when I try to talk to you about it." Well, all right, "freaking out" was a bit of an exaggeration. But it got his point across. "You know I don't ask you personal shit you don't wanna talk about unless it's important-- this is important." Important and just... off. And Hunt changing the subject was not gonna fly this time.

"I'm not freaking out," Hunt denied, feeling increasingly uncomfortable by the moment, like there was an itch somewhere he couldn't scratch, only it was on the inside. "And there's... There's nothing wrong. Of course I got distracted over Mutt - she's - she's been gone a week. More," he said, repeating that information back rather than really appreciating it. His dog, Mutt, she was missing. She'd been gone over a week. Right... Surely it was longer than that? If it wasn't - wouldn't he be more worried? He - he remembered that she ran off. It had been dark. Why had they been out after dark anyway? He couldn't quite... It was all a blur.

Brian watched Hunt with definite concern, now. "You're talking in circles, man. Tell me what you're thinking so hard, in there." Because there had to be something more, something more important than the dog so that he could just move on without even worrying, and then try to change the subject when Brian pressed him on it. Either that or Hunt was into some really fucking heavy repression, he knew something that he didn't want to think about? About what happened to Mutt? That hardly made sense-- unless the vampires had torn her apart in front of him, or something. That could be repression-worthy traumatizing for somebody like Hunt, maybe. God, he didn't know, he was grasping at straws, and he couldn't know unless Hunt talked to him, honestly and without the bullshit answers and avoidance.

Unfortunately, though unbeknownst to Hunt, he was incapable of not avoiding and giving bullshit answers in this kind of circumstance and he'd actually planned it that way, so many years ago. "I'm thinking I'm hungry," he told his friend. And that I need a new dog, he thought, latching on to that. yes, a new dog, that would solve everything, then life could just go back to normal - normal was good, normal was the point.

That was such an obvious lie that Brian frowned at him, actually a little hurt. He could've at least come up with a bullshit answer that was halfway decent. Being blown off by a friend who you were worried about was not high in Brian's list of things he enjoyed-- and he certainly had no way of knowing it wasn't Hunt's fault. "Yeah, okay. If that's what you wanna say. Fine." He flipped his menu back open, though he was half-tempted to just leave. Obviously something was up with Hunt, something wasn't right, but he was going to refuse to talk about it, or even hint about it.

Hunt looked up and over at the waitress, giving her a smile as she diverted and headed over. "I'll have the special," he told her, before handing over his menu. He considered a drink to go with his lunch, but decided against it. He was feeling vaguely out of sorts today, something he couldn't quite put his finger on, his mind felt like it was drifting a little. Probably best if he stayed off the alcohol for now.

When Hunt didn't even comment on the sour tone and the frown, Brian was... a little amazed that he could just brush it all off. Again. He closed the menu. "Nothing for me," he told the waitress, trying hard to not sound short about it. "Thanks." He'd eat when he got to the diner. At least then he wouldn't be stewing about how he'd have made it instead of someone else's ideas about it.

Hunt looked over, surprised at that. "You not eating?" he asked. He'd figured that was the whole point of meeting for lunch after all.

"You know me," Brian grumbled, irritated even more that Hunt could just look so innocent and surprised when they'd just been talking about his lost-presumably-dead dog, among other things, and he'd apparently, what, forgotten already? Or just bullshitted even more to get off the subject? He tossed the tease Hunt had used right back at him, only much more sourly: "Picky eater." The confused waitress, however, got an only slightly strained smile as he offered the menu back to her. "Don't worry about it. Thanks." He probably wouldn't wind up staying much longer, unless Hunt decided to ask what was up with him.

Hunt waited until the waitress had headed off before answering. "Yeah, picky - but usually you eat and then just bitch about how you could have done better," Hunt said with a frown. "You okay?" he asked, unknowingly obliging to the way Brian's mind was going. "What's up?"

Yeah, there he went. Quite as if the whole previous conversation hadn't happened. "The fact that you're shitting me and then acting like everything's hunky-dory," Brian said, a little heatedly, though he kept his voice down. "I called cuz I'm worried you're not dealing well-- you pretty much prove to me you're not-- then you lie to my face. Wouldn't you be a little pissed?"

Hunt stared at him. "I lied?" he asked, sounding honestly puzzled and a little offended at that. "What the hell have I lied about?" he questioned. "Look, I'm - I'm fine. What happened - it's all over now and everything's back to normal. It's all fine, school's back in session - it's all good," he told his friend.

"You just keep t-tellin' yourself that, man," Brian said, pushing his chair back and giving Torziel a litt eshove to get him off his feet. Goddamn stutter was trying to come back. "Maybe eventually it'll even be true. Or maybe you'll actually decide to tell me the truth and then we can talk." He got up, picking up his cane and pushing the chair back in. "Enjoy your lunch. I've g-got to get to work." Despite being an hour and a half early. Yeah.

Oh, fuck that noise - Hunt stood and stepped into Brian's path, a hand on his friend's chest to stop him leaving. "No - you called me a liar. I want to know what that was all about, Brian," he said, seriously.

Despite his growing frustration and threatening temper, the last thing Brian really wanted to do was make a scene at a restaurant, of all places. It felt... juvenile. He glanced around, warped the air a little to keep their words a bit more private, and answered, "You're just bullshitting me, Hunt. You say you're fine, you say you're okay, you say you're thinking about food when we're talking about the d-dog you loved--" Past tense, since if he'd moved on already, he probably hadn't cared all that much about her. "--and when I'm trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong with you for not asking about how the fuck I set--" Let's leave the killing people thing out of this, his mind stopped him before he finished that one. "How I t-took you from downtown to your house in one step." Shit, he was starting to glow a little. Goddamn fucking short circuit. Brian forced himself to pause and take a slow breath, and get it back under control.

Hunt didn't even appear to notice the change in his friend - because he didn't, the spell he'd cast on himself all those years ago bypassing all of that, tucking and channeling it away from his conscious mind, hiding it behind those thick, thick walls he'd made for himself that locked so much away. "You - Brian, man, taking me from downtown to my house in one step is fucking impossible - don't joke about that shit," Hunt laughed, figuring his friend was joking, for all he appeared to be pissed about something.

You wanna see me do some impossible shit? Brian thought grimly. I can do some impossible shit for you. But not here, and not now. He was too angry, and already a little out of control, and there were way too many people. "Exactly," was what he said, because he couldn't see how Hunt had overlooked that he'd done that very thing. Twice, actually, though only once did Hunt go with him. That he was blowing it off again, laughing at him, only made it worse. He had to get out of there before light turned into something else, or at least got noticed so he'd be stuck with backlashing. Again. "I've got to get to work, Hunt," he repeated inflexibly. "I'll talk to you later."

Okay, apparently that had been the wrong thing to say. Hunt backed down a little, dropping his hand to his side. "Look, I'm sorry man. Honestly, stay - I didn't mean to piss you off or anything. I'm sorry," he repeated, clueless as to what he'd supposedly done. But what Brian was suggesting... If it wasn't a joke then he was wondering if he should be seriously worried about his friend. Maybe the last few weeks had kinda gotten to him or something. "Seriously - are you okay?" he asked, sounding honestly concerned.

The apology didn't exactly make things worse, but they didn't exactly help, either, not when he looked so ridiculously bewildered and innocent like that. Brian scrubbed at his face with his hands, the metal of his ring warm against his skin. Ignoring the question, not sure whether the man was being particularly cruel by trying to turn the problem back on him or what, he asked, "Do you even remember anything from the night before my birthday?"

Hunt thought about that. "Yeah - there was just a set to in the park or something." Was it the park? Or was it the street. There'd been a couple of times, hadn't there? Everything seemed to be a bit of a blur, melding into each other. Picking out details and dates was hard. "We'd been for a drink-" Must have been the street. "Some kids or something - they were acting up. I tripped, I think. You got me home. Nothing too major - I think I had a bit much to drink, maybe," he admitted.

"You'd think you'd have a clearer memory," Brian half-growled, but there wasn't much ire in it anymore. He was getting more confused than angry, because that wasn't what had happened at all. The glow, however, was not going away, and there were a couple people looking at them-- mostly him-- funny, like they were noticing. "This isn't the place to be t-talking about this." Or the time. Not with the glow, and the people, and the ghost standing by the wall watching with mild interest of his own, and just-- not the time. "I've really-- I'll call you later." And he made another attempt at getting past Hunt and getting back in the direction of his truck, Torziel at his heels.

This time, Hunt let him go. The stutter was always a sign and it was making more of an appearance now. "You'd better!" he called after his friend, deciding that he'd give him until school got out tomorrow and then he was heading round - either to his place, or work if he had to. Because, right now? Hunt felt like he was missing something and as much as his inner self was trying to just brush it off and tell him he was imagining things, something didn't sit right and he didn't like to see his friends upset.