Lunch At Joe's
Lunch at Joe's
Summary: Lunch time at Joe's… it's always strange in Vegas.
Date: 24 Feb 2008
Related Logs: None

Joe's Diner - Main Room
Greasy spoon. That's the easiest way to describe this linoleum tiled, vinyl seat upholstered place. If you've seen one of these diners, you've seen them all. The only thing that really varies in here is the color scheme, slightly, from diner to diner, state to state. Here the scheme is a creamy off white mixed with a slightly burgundy red, which upholsters all of the old fashioned bar stools and booth benches. Always brightly lit, and open 24 hours a day, Joe's Diner is a haven for those who require a good old fashioned cup of coffee, greasy hash browns, or pancakes at any hour of the day.
The wait staff dresses in '50s uniforms. The booths lining the wall look out onto the street through a large plate glass window. The seats at the counter look toward the kitchen. There are pies on the counter, cookies in the back, a register by the door, and people in here at all hours. Often, it's a hangout for off duty cops, fire fighters, and other city employees.

Jules bows her head in affirmation to his statement, a few locks of red escaping the messy pins she uses to keep it off of her face, "Couldn't have put it better myself, Miller. Sad reality of it all but… that's the truth of the matter. Probably why dear old dad never really made it beyond patrol. Didn't really care to juggle a family and all the shit we see day in and day out." There is almost a touch of forgiveness in her slightly husky voice as she admits those words. She then finally turns her head, looking away from those handsomely dark eyes. "I need food. Or booze… but food's probably a better idea." She takes another drag from her menthol, attempting to gain the waitress' attention.

"Start with food…that way when you move to drinking you don't feel like you've been kicked in the stomach." Miller offers, suddenly giving a little whistle. The waitress spies Jules looking for her, and comes by to take her order. "Sorry if I scratched an old wound or something, Jules. I never meant to. If it's any consolation, what usually happens with me is that I date a girl who at first outright brags that she's dating a cop to her girlfriends. Then she tries to coax me into a desk job. It's usually around that time that I cut loose, because the inevitable request for other stuff comes next. I just don't operate like that." He says, picking up a napkin to dab his mouth as he swallows some of his chicken. Setting the napkin down beside a rather fat wallet, he looks back to her.
The sound of Noah's truck pulling up in front of the diner heralds his approach. It is enough that at least one of the waitresses glances up and smiles before pouring a cup of coffee and calling back an order to the diner's cook. By the time the door opens, and Noah is stomping mud off his boots just outside, the coffee is set on the counter along with a fresh baked muffin, of the blueberry variety. By the time he steps inside and slips off his stetson, the smell of bacon and eggs cooking is wafting from the back.
It is as he slings a leg over a stool and immediately sets to adding sugar to his coffee that he tosses a wink to the waitress and flashes her a lazy smile. "You realize you're spoiling me, Helen?" Course, the waitress, Helen, grins in response, settling in a lean on the opposite side of the counter. "You say that like it's a bad thing, Noah."

A chuckle of bittersweet understanding touches her lips and Jules just shakes her head slowly, "They end up making us partners I think we're both doomed, Miller. Neither of us are brilliant rays of sunshine, in the very least." She then looks back to the woman as the waitress finally attends to their table, "Ah… gimmie.. let's just go with a burger, fries and vinegar if you got it. Thanks…" She doesn't even bother with a menu. Her eyes loft as the door opens and another customer comes into the cafe. She studies him for a few more heartbeats, the predatory nature just the look of him gives off is enough to put her cop instincts on edge. She shakes off the thought and looks back to miller, "There any coffee left in the pot?" Or creamer, for that matter.

"Yeah…there is." Miller replies, pouring her another pot. "Honestly, I like ya. I think if we're lucky enough to get made partners I think we'll be fine. I'm actually a bit of an idealist. I like what I like and I have a few pet peeves, aside from that I'm practically a cartoon character." He chuckles, taking a moment to look at Noah. Sizing him up, he turns his eyes back to Jules as he becomes chatty with the server. He couldn't be all that bad…

The stetson is set carefully on the counter next to Noah's cup, his elbows settling on either side as he takes a long swallow of the straming hot beverage. "So, you dumped that no good husband of yours yet, Helen? I got more 'n enough room out at the ranch for a woman of your calibre."
Helen, slightly overweight, marginally grey, and obviously having seen better years, turns a warm smile on Noah, a twinkle of amusement sparking in her dark eyed gaze. "Now, I know you're just being polite, Noah. Sides, Joe's not that bad, he's working, again."
A wink is tossed back to Helen as Noah sets the mug of coffee down, his chin dipping in a slow nod. "I reckon I'm going to have to give him a raise? Provided he doesn't wreck my horse trailor coming back from Tucson." Apparently Helen's Husband works for the cowboy, go figure.

Jules grins a bit more towards her table partner. "Cartoon character? What are you? Mickey the muscles punk star cop?" She chuckles huskily, grabbing at the pot of coffee and pouring her mug about three fourths of the way full. The rest is left for cream. Her smile lingers, though, apparently in more than a good enough mood today. "Lucky enough to get made partners? So I won't hear you bitchin' about bein' assigned to the scot. Or a woman, but most people have learned that lesson already."

"In my experience if you treat a girl cop differently because she's a girl…everyone you know will go out of their way to make it possible for her to embarass you. One moment you don't want to do a patrol with the Locklear-esque beat cop, the next she's getting private Karate lessons from someone that you pissed off at the academy." Miller replies with a shake of his head. Chuckling lightly, he and Jules appear to be eating after work, the police department not too far away. "And for the record? I always relate myself a little to that big whiskery cigar smoking dog that tried to tie Minnie to the train tracks."

The rumble of her car is probably heard, even inside the confines of the greasy spoon. Dahlia's form slips out of the drivers seat of the Fastback, nudging the door shut with her hip and turning her wrist to press the alarm on her key chain. The car's light blink once in compliance, before going dark. Heading inside, she smooths a hands over her stomach, fingers lightly tugging at the hem of the shirt that is just short enough to show a strip of flesh before it struggles to meet the waist of her low slung jeans. Keys still in hand, she pushes the door open and moves inside.

"Shouldn't treat any woman differently on account of being a woman," Helen, the waitress notes as she straightens from the counter and grabs Noah's order. It is as she places the heaping plate of eggs, bacon and home fries in front of the rancher, that she flashes Jules and Miller a wink. "Doing it to a woman with a gun is just plain stupid." Course, she's moving down the counter, freshing up thier pot of coffee before turning to offer a smile to Dahlia. "Trouble just walked in, Whitman," she asides to Noah.
In the midst of hefting a forkful of eggs to his mouth, Noah pauses and glances over his shoulder toward the door. Upon spying Dahlia, his lips quirk in a wry smile, his chin dipping in invitation for her to join him at the counter. "I was wondering when you were going to crawl out of bed," he calls.

Jules cannot help but grin just a bit wider, her eyes flickering in Helen's direction, "Smart women there and that's the honest truth." She winks at Helen but then turns back to Miller, her grin unwavering as he mentions the karate lessons. "Oh, so you -heard- what happened with Johnson. Yeah, people learned their lesson after that." Once more, it's not entirely clear if she's joking or not and she hides her expression between a good gulp of her paled out coffee, her cigarette now neglected for the goddess of caffiene.

"Man Johnson can be such a jackass…" Miller shakes his head, refilling his coffee. Dragging off of his cigarette, he leans back a little and props a boot up on the bench beside Jules. "…I think that guy's the type that actually goes looking for trouble because he likes the attention. It's like when she finally put him down, he kinda liked the attention. I wouldn't doubt he had a crush on her."

Keys are tucked into Dahlia's front jean pocket, giving Helen a smile. "Now, if you go warnin' him, how am I suppos' ta have any fun?" She playfully murmurs to Helen, turning attention towards Noah. As she makes her way inside, empty hand comes to lightly dance upon the counter. Moving up beside the rancher, she eyes his plate with hunger, making as if to steal a piece of bacon. Hopefully she'll come back with not only all five of her fingers but with a strip of stolen pork as well. "And, I'll have you know, I got up and fed the horses before I took ma afternoon beauty sleep." She tosses her hair away from her face, sliding onto one of the counter stools.

Meandering back to the counter, Helen sets out a cup for Dahlia and fills it with steaming coffee. "I'd guess your supposed to have your fun at night, sugar." Tossing the woman a wink as she joins Noah at the counter, the coffee pot is set aside, Helen's hands brushed off on her apron as she turns around and grabs the second platter of food off the counter behind her. When she turns back around, a heaping plate of breakfast is set in fron of Dahlia before Helen grins and murmurs. "Standing order, we always have a seond plate on standbye."
Offering Helen a relaxed grin, Noah pops the food in his mouth, washing it down with a mouthful of coffee before eyeing the stolen bacon. "Might want to put more bacon on, Helen."

Alexander arrives from the street.
Alexander has arrived.

Jules rolls her eyes at the memory of Johnson, shaking her head slightly and leaning back in her seat in turn. Getting comfortable seemed a good idea and neither of them was going on duty for several hours. "Yeah, well, only thing people remember about him is the fact he WAS an idiot and a jackass, so there was some revenge to be had at least." She leaves it there with a smirk, scooping up her cigarette again and ashing the long bit of gray from the top before brings the filter to her lips for another drag of the nearly dead smoke. "And I like menthols, going back to a previous conversation. They make your breath nice."

Looking to the newcomer, Dahlia, Miller watches for a moment, sizing her up as well. They seemed to be regulars to him, which was all he needed to know. Turning his eyes back to Jules, he laughs quietly for another moment. Shaking his head, he drags off of his cigarette. "You know…the reason the instructors are such bastards during academy is because they've got to make sure you've got thick enough skin to not break a perp's nose when he talks back at you and makes fun of your wife or mama…" Miller says, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "Johnson should've figured that out if he had a prayer of doing investigative work. But no…instead he was aiming for SWAT. What a bunch of Alphas they are…"

"Oh, you are a blessed woman, Helen." Dahlia praises as given not only is she given a cup of black coffee but a plate of food as well. At mention of the bacon, she gently nudges the man beside her with her knee. "Stolen bacon always taste better." Spoken between a fork fulls of food, swallowing before she speaks. Feeling eyes on her, Dahlia turns to glance over her shoulder, yellow eyes doing much the same as Miller did. A quick sizing up before she turns back to her plate. She seems just about to say something, when something seem to strike her funny bone. She gives a small snerk of laughter before covering it up by reaching for her coffee to take a sip.

Alexander comes ambling into the diner, tipping his hat back as he does so. Sniff sniff. Mmmmm, bacon. He pauses, looks around, eyes the people already present, and gives the ladies of the group a somewhat longer look of assessment. Then he wanders towards a free booth, making himself at home in it.

Snagging a piece of bacon from his plate, Noah pops it in his mouth, chewing slowly as he quirks a brow and slants a glance over one shoulder at Miller. After a momentary observation of the man, he snorts a quiet laugh before turning back to the counter and returning his elbows to the edge. "Stolen bacon," Noah observes in mellow tones. "Could result in fingers being bitten off." Of course, no one has lost any fingers, yet, so. Of course, Dahlia's snerk of laughter is met with a good-natured glower from Noah, hazel eyes rolling as he snags his coffee and takes a long swallow before setting the cup out to be refilled. "Helen loves me," he mutters under his breath.
"Course I do, sugar." Helen soothes as she refills the Ulfric's cup of coffee. "From what I hear, Davis is mighty fond of you as well. Something about a dozen roses?" Mind you, she's wise enough to step away as she says that. A particularly wise choice since Noah mock growls under his breath before reaching for his coffee.
"I was wondering how long it would be before /that/ got out," Noah mutters under his breath.
Course, as the new customer steps in Helen makes her way toward his booth, pot of coffee, and menu, in hand. "Need some time, darlin?" It should be known that Helen is about fifty-two, slightly pudgy and obviously of a congenial nature.

Jules chuckles again at the comment about swat, and she rolls her shoulders in a casual shrug, "Hey, we need'em. Some people get into police work so they can charge around with big fucking guns in their hands. Not exactly a reason I AGREE with, but it's not uncommon either way. At least we know there is a job and a place for them to excel." She chuckles off handedly at the thought and then sits up straighter as another waitress brings the burger. "Mm..I can smell the clogged arteries already. Wonderful."

"Well…I've served a warrant like that before. It's a rush…" Miller admits, shaking his head. "But SWAT are some pretty hardcore guys…I just wish I had access to their arsenal." He chuckles. Propping one arm over the back of the booth he relaxes, taking a moment to look around again while Jules starts to eat.

You can almost hear in your head, the cartoon like sound that should accompany Dahlia's blink, practically staring at Helen. The woman tilts her head from side to side slowly, bones popping in quiet relief before the grin is just too much to hide. Fork still in hand, she shoves a few of the stray egg together on her plate. Her lips practically tremble in unspent laughter, moonlight eyes twinkling as if the sun were backing up the shine. At last she can be silent no more and she sort of leans away from Noah a little, "You got flowers from Davis? I'm jealous." The humor obvious in her voice.

Alexander grins broadly at the waitress. "No need. I'll just have whatever the people over there are having, plus a slice of blueberry pie. It all smells great, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that you can never, ever go wrong eating what the locals do." Pause. "Unless it's a tuna melt in Brooklyn. Trust me, not good."

"No," Noah growls under his breath. "I /sent/ flowers to Davis." Hey, when the cat is out of the bag, you might as well shave it bald and tie a bell to it's tail. "Better 'n having all my drinks watered down for the next couple of years." Half-growling, half-grumbling under his breath, he ladles eggs and bacon on toast and shovels the mass into his mouth only to wash it down with hot coffee.
Course, in the background, Helen is chuckling good naturedly, her head giving a faint shake as she casts a tsk toward Noah. She does, however, turn a grin on Alexander, dark eyes crinkling at the corners. "Shoot, darlin, we'll even arrange a scoop of ice cream for ya." At Alex's last, Helen winks and heads back to place his order before making the rounds to refill cups of coffee as needed.
Jules smirks in Miller's direction, "And just what would you do with an arsenal like that? You're on narcotics right now… I think swinging in with some sort of bazooka or AK-47 is going to tip your boys off that you might not be the nice friendly druggie they want to be sellin' to. And even if you make detective… if we both do.. That arsenal is made to clean up or come in when shit has already hit the fan. Hopefully we can stop that shit from happening, right?" Jules finally takes a time out from her little discussion to dive into her burger. She cuts it in half, first, then slathers the thing in ketchup before she takes a first good bite.

"Well…you know it'd be nice enough if I could convince someone down at the lockup to let me fire one off for a bit…" Miller laughs, giving Jules a little wink. "…but I see your point. I'm just kidding really. As much as I'd hate to admit it, that month off for administration and all the bullshit that comes with firing a shot off would drive me crazy." Miller says quietly to Jules before turning his eyes to Alexander. Sizing him down and finding nothing necessary for the moment, he crooks an ear to Dahlia and Noah's conversation, smiling and huffing softly at something that's been said. He drags off of his cigarette and avoids watching Jules eat.

It strikes Dahlia as so funny, she nearly chokes. She leans back from her plate, setting her fork down to cover her mouth. Her other elbow rests on the table, hand on her cup of coffee. "Oh…oh my God…" She manages, coughing a few more times between fits of laughter. "Oh, you just wait until Anthony finds out." She lowers her hand from her mouth, biting her lower lip with the effort to reel her laughter in before Noah becomes genuinely grouchy. She gives the rancher beside her a long look, before finally managing to speak again, even daring to lightly touch Noah's arm with her fingertips, right around the elbow. "I bet you made his heart jus' a pitter patter."
Jules seems to catch notice of Miller's listening in to the couple at the counter, "Friends of yours? Or just happy to hear that SOMEONE In this world can be in a happy, if not entirely sane relationship?" Jules inquires with a touch of a warmer grin. She then takes another good bite of her burger, eager to finish the thing off while it's still hot and deliciously greasy. At least she doesn't eat like some frail delicate bird of a woman.

Alexander beams at Helen, and settles back in his booth to wait for the food and drink to start arriving. In the meantime, there's obviously some perfectly fascinating conversations to eavesdrop upon. Bazookas! Narcotics! Flowers! Clearly, these people have got it going on, and then some. His ears practically do the radar swivel as he listens idly.

"Like I have a life of my own…" Miller chuckles, making a comical face at Jules, sticking out his tongue a little bit at her. Taking one last drag from his cigarette, he stubs it out in the ashtray and rests back again to watch her. Scratching the side of his head, he stretches his arms out in front of him for a moment before sitting up straight in his seat. The bench on the booth was starting to wear him thin. "So how's the burger?"

"Woman, I'm going to bite you," Noah growls. Course, the growl is tinged with what can be surmised to be humor. Still, there are limits to how much teasing he might be willing to take. Snagging his cup of coffee, he braces his elbows on the edge of the counter, his shoulders rounding in a relaxed hunch as he takes a break from his food to down the rest of the coffee. It is as he lowers the cup, that his chin tilts down, a hint of gold coloring his gaze as he slants a glance back at Dahlia. "I can handle Anthony," in he murmurs in tones made thicker, to preternatural ears, with the addition of a wash of power. Course, lest it be misconstrued as anger directed at his female, he slides her a slice of bacon, his lips twisting in a smirking grimace. "It seemed like the thing to do at the time, all right? Pissing off the man who pours the drinks is bad for business." Pause. "Did you check on the pregnant mare this morning?" Yeah, when push comes to shove, Noah's more concerned about his horses then gay bartenders.
Meanwhile, the pie ala mode is delivered to Alexander's booth, along with a plate of chili cheese fries. "Burgers'll be up shortly," Helen provides with a relaxed smile.
Long distance to Dahlia: Noah works for me.

"Hey. You have poker and football, that is PLENTY of a life, you know? All I have are the bloody bag pipes and the fact I've been considering adopting a cat but never really get around to doing it. I think you and I have PLENTY full lives. They just happen to be very full of the LVPD and not all that much else." Jules' smile actually attempts to be reassuring this time, a bit softer than before as she leaves off devouring her burger. She laughs just a touch, "The burger is good but you're looking restless a heroine addict without a fix. Don't let me keep you if you have somewhere to be."

That growl and the threat of being bitten, makes a single slim brow raise. Dahlia shifts on the bar stool, tossing hair off her shoulders with what might look like an arrogant motion. "No foreplay before breakfast." She retorts with humor still mingled in her voice. She watches Noah haunch over his coffee, the humor slowly draining away but not unpleasantly. Picking up her fork and returning to her own minimal leavings on the plate, she gives him a sideways glance as he mentions Anthony. "I know." She says, rather quietly, lowering her head to nudge the other man's shoulder. It seems to work, as the man offers her that slice of bacon. Fingers take it up and she folds it neatly into her mouth, chewing and nodding to his asking of the mare. Swallowing, "I did, she's 'bout due. Still fat and restless." She forks a few of the scrambled egg bits onto her fork.

Alexander takes a deep whiff of the chili cheese fries, savoring their aroma. But they're missing something. Aha! He reaches for the ketchup bottle, and turns it over. Shake, shake, sppppppttt. Shake shake. Hmmm. He unscrews the cap and peers inside. Siiigh. This calls for a cunning plan. He gets up, and goes to the table full of happy bazooka-invoking people. "Trade you," he says, dangling his ketchup bottle between two fingers.

"I'm on call….I dont have anywhere I need to be right now." Miller retorts, looking to Jules. Turning and regarding Alexander, Miller nods and takes up his ketchup bottle and offers it to him. "Sold…" He proclaims, handing the bottle to him, top up.

Drinking his coffee, Noah nods in response to the news about the mare, his head giving a slow roll to crack his neck. "Course she is, she's out of season," Noah grumbles. Out of season, or not, starting off the spring with a new foal will be nice for the ranch. Snagging a piece of bacon, he pops it in his mouth, chewing and swallow as he watches Helen wander past with Alexander's order. "Joe'll be back t'night or tomorrw with the new stock. Ranch should be looking at a solid season." Pausing a beat at that, he reaches for his coffee, his head tilting to allow him to glance at Dahlia out of the corner of his eye. "Speaking of that, can we expect you to be present, or are you going to be doing your thing in the city?"

It's Dahlia's comment of no foreplay before breakfast that draws Jules' eyes for a few moments. The one downfall of no relationships that she nor Miller mentioned was no foreplay, or anything that comes after it. She releases a brief sigh through her nose, looking back to her possible partner in the monitoring of crimes…"Those two look happy. Rare to see… 'salmost nice." Jules mutters to herself before finally diving into that burger again. She chuckles quietly to Alexander, but was indeed done with the ketchup. "Enjoy it. Don't take it for granted. Never know when they might leave ya again!" She calls after, just a touch teasingly dramatic.

Dahlia finishes off the last of the food with relish, "Thank ya kindly, Helen." To the waitress, moving her plate a touch to the side. Raising up her coffee, she takes a sip before answering the man's question. "I'll be there darlin'." Giving him her own sideways look. With cup in her left hand, she moves her other hand to rest lightly on his upper thigh, just above the knee. For a moment, her eyes search his face, as if looking for something unspoken. "Less'n you don' want me there." She offers, rather quietly, almost into Noah's ear. Those who can feel her shifter energy have felt it easily since she walked into the door, not bothering to mask or hide. Now, that same energy gently nudges the man beside her, lowered eyes looking at the counter.
Alexander takes the new ketchup bottle, and weighs it against the one he brought over. Not entirely willing to take things on faith, he peers at it, before looking satisfied. Leaving the old one behind, he wanders back to his booth to properly doctor his chili cheese fries. "Thanks," he says, the word trailing behind him.

"It's not -that- rare…" Miller replies, turning to look at Jules. "I mean…it's been a while for me but that doesn't mean it isn't good when it lasts. Besides…what's better than poker and football? Seriously, I'm going to have to get you to a few games and get you obsessed with it or something. I've even got a big TV we can all watch it on."

The downside of being a shifter is being able to hear what's going on around you, even when it's done quietly. That being the case, Noah's attention is drawn in numerous directions. It is, however, brought back home with the hand on his thigh, one brow spiking as he turns his head and regards Dahlia directly. "I wouldn't have asked if that was the case," he notes practically. Smirking mildly, dark hair falls into his eyes as he gives a single shake of his head, a low snort escaping his lips as he reaches out and snags the back of Dahlia's neck through a thick fall of dark hair. "Being an insecure female doesn't suit you," he notes as he tugs her in nose to nose with him. "So cut the bullshit out." That said, a solid, albeit brief kiss is planted on her lips before he releases her in favor of snagging another piece of bacon. Men. Thier priorities are all kindsa fucked up.

Jules cannot help but watch the very open displays of affection, not only with surprise at them not minding showing the whole room but, well, just a tiny hint of longing too. "…Damn.. it has been a long time…" Jules mutters beneath her breath as she shakes off the thoughts, draws in a deep take of air, and looks back to Miller. Her cheeks, too pale save her freckles to hide anything, are just a touch blushed now. "…Sorry… what?…Football? Ah, sure… yeah. Who do we cheer for? Vegas got a team?" She really isn't a football person, god forbid!

The kiss brings a small mrf! of surprise, licking her lips with smirking satisfaction once it ends. "It doesn't but you fell for it." She says with a grin, giving his knee a pat before returning both hands to her coffee. "Sides, you need me." A matter-of-fact tone taken, she speaks before looking over her shoulder once more at Miller. Pink tongue slides over elongated canines, those moonlight eyes probably lingering a little longer than one more find polite. The tattoos draw most of her attention, until at last she turns back to Noah. "I heard we got new people comin' in." She says, raising cup to her lips before realizing nothing is left but the ugly stuff at the bottom of her cup. She sets it down, only to hold it out with a clear expression of 'please' as Helen passes with the pot.

Alexander peers over, unable to keep from watching the floor show while he munches on a ketchup, chili, and cheese- drenched fry. "I'd say get a room," he drawls, "but that was entertaining. Hey, Red," he says, looking at Jules, "If they've got you feeling like a third wheel, you can come and keep me company instead." He follows up the sideways invitation with a bite of pie.

The elongated canine's of Dahlia's don't go unnoticed by Miller. A small coy smirk falls to the side of his lips, as he was looking at them with the sudden display of roughness. Turning back to Jules, he blinks. Smiling broadly. "Why Jules…are you turning red?"

Refilling Dahlia's cup, Helen tops Noah's off, as well, before heading out to make the rounds of the tables. At Alexander's booth, she sets another plate down, this one heavily laden with eggs, homefries and bacon, her chin tipping in a nod. "You'll have a damned full belly, at least." Tossing him a playful wink, she heads over toward the officers, refilling cups before inquiring. "Pie?"
"Ahyup," Noah agrees in response to Dahlia's observation. "Hopefully they'll last longer then some of the others we've had." Pausing to take a swallow of steaming coffee, he rolls his shoulders and notes with a smirk in his tone. "Course, I hear the boss is a prick and has a tendancy to terminate employment for the smallest infractions." Granted, it's only really funny if you happen to realize he *is* the boss. Alexander's comment, however, serves to bring the Ulfric's attention sweeping his way, one dark brow arching mildly as he notes in absolutely deadpan tones. "Catch our dinner show, she looks terrific bent over the counter and howling at the moon."

"That bossman, he's a real prick of misery." She adds with a bob of her head in playful agreement. Of course, it's followed by a sideways glance towards Noah. Just about then, Noah turns to speak to Miller and Dahlia's eyes can't help but follow. Strangely enough, to Dahlia's credit, she doesn't blush. She doesn't even bat an eye at his comment, turning some on her seat towards the pair of cops. Legs cross, the sound of jean clad thighs sliding together, the hand not holding her hot cup of coffee follows the outside hem that runs down that shapely leg. "He's a pi —" Oh, the words roll to a stop, you can almost see her swallow them. "He was raised in a barn, don't mind him." She recovers smoothly, flashing a smile before she takes a sip from her cup. Reaching up, she grabs a pinch of Noah's hair, giving it a small tug. "Beast." She mutters towards him with a low growl.

"A dinner show, you say?" replies Alexander with an amused expression. "Certainly. Just tell me when and where. I'm a sucker for redheads." Pause. "And brunettes. And blondes. And those SuicideGirls with blue hair… and the ones with green hair. But yeah, mostly a sucker for redheads." He tosses a belated grin of thanks to Helen, before picking up a strip of bacon to gnaw on.

"A pig?" Miller asks, turning to look at Dahlia with a sweet, sweet smile. "You were going to say a pig weren't you?" He chuckles, pulling out a cigarette to light it. "I mean…that would have been awkward, myself being a cop and cops being called pigs and whatnot." He grins, clearly teasing the stranger. Puffing off of his cigarette, he winks at her, comically flexing one of his biceps. "It's allright, I prefer the term Warthog, you know…because I have tusks and slur my letter S." He pauses, looking to Jules. "I've gotta make a phone call."

"Oink," Is the bland response from Noah. He does, however, catch Dahlia's wrist as she tugs at his hair, a deft twist bringing it around to allow him to lay teeth on tender flesh. Apparently, niether of them have a problem with public displays of affection. Alexander's comment, or comments rather, serve to draw Noah's attention, a hearty laugh spilling from his lips as he traps Dahlia's palm against his thigh while twisting to reach for his cup of coffee. "Man after my own heart," he notes as he regards the fellow. "You'll have to come out to visit the ranch, we have a healthy measure of female flesh wandering about looking for trouble." Cowgirls, you just can't do anything with them. Well, you can, but it generally tends to be X-rated. Pausing a beat, regards Alex a bit more intently in the wake of a subtle sniff, his lips twisting in a wryish smirk. "You remind of a cousin of mine."

What's a good girl supposed to do in a place like this?? Jules just listens to it all, her blush only growing and a touch of shock now on her features. Her gaze flickers to Alex as he mentions the red heads and, almost subconciously, she runs one hand back through her own crimson locks, pulling them off her face and hidden out of the way. She then stands up, throwing ten dollars down on the table top for the burger, coffee and a decent tip. She nods to Miller. "I.. I think I need some fresh air too… I'll walk with ya.." And heads towards the door as he moves to make his phone call. She gives one last, blushed look at the room as she slips outside and leans against the wall outside the doors. All she can mutter to herself is "Too… damned long.."

Alexander replies brightly, "I remind a lot of people of a cousin of theirs. I'd love to meet this cousin someday, he sounds like a man I could do some serious drinking with." He shrugs, adding lazily, "I figure it's because I got a lot of different kinds of blood in me." He watches Jules make as if to leave, and sighs mournfully. "Until next time, my blushing rose of the desert," he tells her.

Dahlia's eyes flicker towards Alexander, something halfway between smirk and what might be a snarl. A twitch of her upper lip, but it vanishes as Miller draws her attention again. For just the smallest moment, Dahlia actually looks like she might apologize for that near slip up, but Miller takes it all in good humor and that wins him points with her. A soft chuckle, she watches him flex with the same appreciation any woman would before she lets her eyes follow him as he moves to make his phone call. Before she can get a full look, her hand lingers too long and Noah grabs it easily. "Noah!" All her attention turns to him, a look of blissful anticipation as he holds her wrist tightly in his fingers. Her mouth softly parts as he lays teeth to her wrist, for a second the woman doesn't even breathe. Visibly, she swallows. "You wait until we get back to the ranch." She says with a slightly husky growl, fingers squeezing where he places her hand on his thigh.

"Ahyup," Noah responds to Dahlia. "I'll have to make a point to take you out to that barn I was raised in, I reckon." Casually drinking his coffee, he sets the empty cup behind him on the counter, his fingers hooking under the edge of his stetson and flipping it up onto his head. It is as he looks back at Alexander, that he notes in friendly enough tones. "That particular cousin never did tend to stay around very long. Course, you're welcome to wander on out to the ranch, should the mood strike." That said, he glances over at Helen as he rolls to his feet. "Put it all on my tab, Helen? I'll settle up later in the week." Course, he's good for it, and Helen knows it, so it's unsurprising when she answers with a wink on her way to refilling Alexander's drink.
Glancing down at Dahlia, Noah leans in to brush a kiss over her lips, his hand momentarily touching her cheek before he murmurs. "I've got to run some errands before I can head back. If you run into any of the new folks, round em up for me and I'll be along." Drawing away from her, he tugs a card out of his wallet and tosses it on Alexander's table, noting congenially enough. "Cracked Skull Ranch, out in Jean, good hunting, when the moon's right for it." And with that, he's off, the roar of his truck punctuating his departure.

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