((OOC: This thread takes place the morning of the same day that Inside i think I'm dying takes place, so Tarin's merge and the fight in Times Square hasn't happened quite yet.))

Most people would think that coffee was coffee. Not so. Coffee had a variety of different flavours, different aromas, different tastes. Well, for those who contaminated their coffee with a load of cream and sugar, coffee might be coffee, since said cream and sugar would cover up the actual taste of the coffee, but for someone who drank it black, there was a difference.

Which is what Lee's problem was. The place she normally went to get her coffee on the way to the shop in the morning had changed. Well, the coffee shop itself was the same, but the coffee was different. Lee wasn't sure whether it was a different blend of coffee, or if the new guy behind the counter just didn't know how to make coffee, but it was tasting different, and Lee was not enjoying the new taste.

So Lee was left to try and find a new place to get her coffee from. She knew that there were a number of different places near the shop that she could try, but Lee also knew that there were coffee shops, and then there were places that sold coffee.

Her heels clicking on the cold cement of the sidewalk, Lee came up outside a shop called Insomniacs Anonymous. Her legs were quite chilled, having much more exposed skin below the hem of her skirt thanks to not having her knee high boots, Lee decided to try this place. Unfortunately, she knew that it could take a while to find a new spot for her morning coffee, and the only way was to try various shops.

Pulling the door open, Lee heard a little bell tinkle as she stepped inside. Into an almost empty shop. Lee wasn't exactly sure what to make of that; if the coffee was decent, there should have been more people there she would think. Taking that into consideration, Lee was about to turn around and go find another shop to grab coffee from when she saw the man behind the counter.

Doing a double take, Lee walked up to the cash, a slightly confused expression on her face. "Rupert?" Lee asked. "What, you work here?"

MARCELLUS : Shall I strike at it with my partisan?
HORATIO: Do, if it will not stand.

The bell tinkled. Rupert took a sip of his coffee, glancing up only casually from the crinkled old copy of Hamlet that some other customer had carelessly left behind, last night, in those hours of the night and morning when Insomniacs Anonymous did its real business. He saw a woman, vaguely attractive, her form outlined in the morning sun through the doorway. Something tugged at his memory, but for a man whose shift had started last night at 1AM, asking for total recall at the tinkling of a bell was a little too much. She didn't look like she'd be staying, anyway; just another morning business woman, scared off by the lack of other customers, clearly unaware that the little family-owned coffee shop had its name for a reason. They had, for the record, damn good coffee. Rupert took a sip of his own cup as he turned back to the play.

BERNARDO: 'Tis here!
HORATIO: 'Tis here!
MARCELLUS: 'Tis gone!
Exit Ghost

>> "Rupert? What, you work here?"

Rupert's head jerked up at the mention of his name. The woman was walking towards the counter, and him. And that's when that face and that voice clicked: Lee. The last time he'd seen this particular freak, she'd been about ten seconds away from tazering Tarin. Not that he knew that. It might have made that particular night a little better, if he'd known what she did after he'd left the possessed medium in her energy-leeching hands.

Slowly, he shut the book, and set it on the counter. Took a long draw of coffee, and set that down, too. "Well," he said finally, his eyes narrowing slightly, "you. Great. I have an hour left on my shift--how about you turn around, walk out that door, and come back never?"

That was pretty cordial of him, all things considered.

Lee saw Rupert's head jerk up after she said his name. Apparently he hadn't realized she had entered until that moment, just like she hadn't noticed him right away. Well, she hadn't been expecting to see him there, especially behind the counter, just like he probably hadn't been expecting to see her.

He didn't speak right away as she made it to the counter and stopped in front of the cash register. He didn't look all that happy, either, as he first closed his book and then took a sip of coffee, but then again, Lee wasn't sure she had actually seen Rupert look happy before.

When Rupert did speak, Lee's eyes narrowed slightly in annoyance. She'd heard him rant on a couple of occasions about how he hated mutants and all that, so she knew that her reception could have always been worse, but at the same time, Rupert had let her crash at his apartment the night before she had gone to Toronto.

Couldn't he at least let her get her coffee before he was being rude and ordering her out?

"Relax, Rupert," Lee told him. "I just want a coffee. It's not like I'm going to sit here 'polluting' your air while I drink it."

How sweet. The little mutress was narrowing her eyes, too--like a monkey at the zoo, miming his motions.

>> "Relax, Rupert. I just want a coffee. It's not like I'm going to sit here 'polluting' your air while I drink it."

"Too late for that," he replied, with copious amounts of resignation. He did not need to 'relax'. This was relaxed. He had a pot of scalding coffee at his back, and he'd already proven his willingness to use it with another pair of freaks that hadn't minded his good advice. If he wasn't relaxed, she would know already. Why couldn't the freaks just listen? He wasn't being unreasonable: this was hardly the only coffee shop in town. It was hardly the only one on this block. He was an easily provoked zealot with a very simple request. He did not need to relax. He needed her to leave, before he stopped relaxing.

"Has your boy killed anyone recently?" He asked, in a pleasantly conversational tone. See? This was him, beginning to not relax.

Oh, Rupert was in just great form today, Lee noticed with a calming breath. Really, what was with this guy? Sure, with the few things he had vented and ranted to her about regarding why he hated mutants so much, she could kind of understand, but really, to still be treating her like this?

"You've had your chances to turn me in, you've had your chance to shoot me, and you've done nothing.

"Hate yourself all you want for letting us out, but you've got to get over yourself at some point," Lee continued. "Yes, there are bad mutants, but how many of your guards were really innocent? Do you have any idea how many times I saw them beating children?"

Lee closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she took a step away from the counter and started pacing slightly. But then Rupert had to go and ask about Tarin, and she spun to look at him. Not in the nice, polite, asking how he was kind of way. No, he had to go and ask if he had killed anyone recently.

"Go **** yourself, Rupert," Lee growled. "No, he hasn't. Can you say the same?"

>> "You've had your chances to turn me in, you've had your chance to shoot me, and you've done nothing."

"More's the pity," Rupert muttered off-handedly, as she went on.

>> "Hate yourself all you want for letting us out, but you've got to get over yourself at some point. Yes, there are bad mutants, but how many of your guards were really innocent? Do you have any idea how many times I saw them beating children?"

It took him a long moment, and a longer blink, for his mind to regress enough to understand what she was talking about: the Camps. Oh. The Camps, yes. Yes, that had been bad; it had also been months ago. Old news. There were much fresher things in his mind, like two related cop massacres in the past week. A small smile spread across his face, just in time for her to tell him to,

>> "Go **** yourself, Rupert. No, he hasn't. Can you say the same?"

She was growling. He, on the other hand, was the perfect picture of calm. "I can't say that coffee shop clerks get many chances to go on mutant murdering sprees," he sighed, quite regretfully. He didn't get many chances, no. But he was working on it.

"So," he calmly began again, with the same pleasant tone he'd inquired about Tarin with; "How are you, these days? I see you're back from Canada. Done hiding from your insecurities?"

Rupert was not an asshole. An asshole would have kicked her out of the shop, shouting blatant insults all the while. Oh no, no--Rupert was an asshole with class. Rupert was, in the words of XKCD, a class-hole. He could keep up this pleasant abuse of Lee and everyone she knew and loved for exactly as long as she could take it, he dared to wager. He could keep it up long after she forgotten that she'd simply come in here for a cup of coffee.

Lee blinked when she heard Rupert comment that he didn't exactly have a lot of chances to go out on mutant killing sprees as a coffee shop clerk. "And why should that stop you?" Lee asked. "I mean, even you must be able to find a bit of time ever couple days to go kill a mutant."

But Rupert didn't stop there, on no of course he didn't. Why should he? "Yes, I'm back. I thought you would have noticed that when you called me to deal with Tarin and saw me taser him."

Really, what was up with Rupert, though? Lee was used to him being an asshole, but this went beyond even him. At least on the other occasions she had seen him.

Lee shook her head as she stared hard at Rupert. "No, never mind," she said. "I thought you were a decent man, even if it was buried somewhere deep down inside. I mean, that dinner we had wans good, but obviously, I was wrong to ever trust you."

>> "And why should that stop you? I mean, even you must be able to find a bit of time ever couple days to go kill a mutant."

The woman was doing an impressive deadpan. Rupert parried it with a thin, heart-warming smile. "You're absolutely right, Emily. I'll have to talk it over with my boss: maybe I can take a long weekend, and go out hunting for sport. Do you think the heads would look best there," he waved a hand broadly towards the wall behind him, "or there?" Another gesture, to a side wall.

>> "Yes, I'm back. I thought you would have noticed that when you called me to deal with Tarin and saw me taser him."

That was actually news to Rupert. When he'd left their apartment that night, he hadn't looked back; by the time the door had closed behind him, he'd been well and truly gone. He'd known that Lee had been in New York at the time, but he had thought it was a temporary thing; some trip with her sister, not a permanent return at that point. The surprise most likely showed on his face. It was followed by a chortle. "Tazering: it really rekindles the abusive romance, doesn't it?" That was just too priceless. Mutant love. How sweet. Now if only they could get Tarin neutered, so that the couple didn't get it into their heads to pop out any little freaklettes.

>> "No, never mind, I thought you were a decent man, even if it was buried somewhere deep down inside. I mean, that dinner we had was good, but obviously, I was wrong to ever trust you."

Rupert tried for his mockingly cheerful little smile again, but it came out sickly. "You weren't wrong. I wouldn't have hurt you, back then." There was no special emphasis on 'back then'. Maybe there should have been, but those two telling words came out in the same tone as the rest of what he had to say. "You and I define a decent man differently." It was the sort of uninterested tone that added, as an undercurrent to whatever it said, 'Not my problem'.

Now that, Lee was not expecting, even from Rupert: a smile in reply to her comment about how he was able to find time to go kill a mutant. Unfortunately, that wasn't the worst of it. Hearing Rupert call her 'Emily', Lee's eyes narrowed against her will. Not exactly the smartest thing to do with Rupert, letting him know that that upset her, but she couldn't help it.

But why had it seemed easier to talk about her death, about Rupert killing her in the camps than this seemed to be? The only thing that Lee could think of to explain it was that at that time, Lee was sure that she wasn't making it out of the camp, so it was only a matter of how and when she was going to die.

With the combination of him using the name Emily and the comment about putting the heads up on the wall had Lee fuming at this point, though. "And you say we're monsters simply because we exist."

Lee didn't fail to notice how Rupert said 'back then' when he said he wouldn't hurt her. "Oh, so you wouldn't then but will now?" Lee asked, turning to look at Rupert head on, lifting her arms out at her sides slightly. "Go on, then, do it. Show me, show everyone, exactly what kind of man you are, a man who'll attack someone for no other reason than what she is, simply because she walked through a door.

"Come on, Rupert. Show me just how alike you are to those mutants you hate so much."

>> "And you say we're monsters simply because we exist."

"No," Rupert corrected, with a dismissive wave of his hand, "not simply because you exist. There is nothing simple you about mutants." He left it at that.

>> "Oh, so you wouldn't then but will now? Go on, then, do it. Show me, show everyone, exactly what kind of man you are, a man who'll attack someone for no other reason than what she is, simply because she walked through a door. Come on, Rupert. Show me just how alike you are to those mutants you hate so much."

Rupert's small smile grew, twisted, into a grin that easily doubled as a frown. A chuckle escaped past his lips. There the mutant stood, in her full righteous glory, with her arms held out to her side. A true little martyr. Here, ladies and gentlemen, was a woman as impulsive as he was.

Her little speech there had been quite pretty. Back during the winter, it no doubt would have ignited his fuse, and she would have quite the high-volume rant on her hands. He was a different person now, though. Calmer. More focused. He felt that familiar warmth of anger in the pit of his stomach, but he settled the flames to an easy burn. He wasn't going to flare up that easily. This was one verbal dance that Rupert fully intended to lead. He leaned his elbows onto the counter, with a causally charming smile.

"If you weren't a genetic cesspool on the inside, Emily," he said smoothly, "I think that the coffee would be on the house. Emily."

"You are such a ******* hypocrite," Lee said, letting her arms drop back down to her sides when Rupert did nothing more than chuckle and lean against the counter. "You want to kill mutants, and here I am, yet you do nothing. Again. So stop your ******* complaining."

Rupert's voice, his tone, was still calm, smooth, just like it had been through most of their 'conversation'. Unlike her own, which had been angry, agitated.

"Yeah, cause that's exactly what I thought when I saw you here. 'Great, Rupert works here. Free coffee!' Right..." Lee shook her head and pulled a ten from her purse, stepping forward to slap it down on the counter in front of the insanely calm zealot. "Large black," Lee continued simply. "And a medium with cream and sugar for Tarin. Oh, and keep the change, it'll get me out of here faster," Lee finished with a slight smile.

>> "You are such a ******* hypocrite. You want to kill mutants, and here I am, yet you do nothing. Again. So stop your ******* complaining."

Rupert shook his head. Shook his head, and smiled with benevolent amusement. "So the indiscriminate murdering of mutants is not hypocrisy? Thank you, Lee. I was having trouble understanding that."

>> "Yeah, cause that's exactly what I thought when I saw you here. 'Great, Rupert works here. Free coffee!' Right... Large black, and a medium with cream and sugar for Tarin. Oh, and keep the change, it'll get me out of here faster."

The woman slapped a ten down on the counter. Rupert looked down at it, for a longer moment than he should. He looked back up at her. The corners of his mouth twitched, threatening to turn into gut-busting laughter. "That's not enough, Emily." He said, with a simple shake of his head. "That's not enough to make me serve one of your kind."

Really, his shrink would be proud of him: it seemed he had made great strides in his anger management, these past few months. The secret, he suspected, was all in the goal. Before, his goal--if he'd even had one--had been to use his anger to change something. Anything. No matter how irrational or ill-planned, to simply shout every situation into submission. His goal now was much better for his blood pressure: he was just going to make the freaks angry, instead. It was about time they had a welcome to his world.

"Combined with all the other **** spewing out of your mouth, you not killing me is hypocritical," Lee shot back at Rupert. "But you always have been a hypocrite, haven't you?"

After she had slapped the money down on the counter, Rupert stared at it for longer than she would have expected. Or at least longer than she would think it would take him to figure out what it was and what she was doing. But then he went and called her Emily again. Why the hell did he have to keep doing that? She knew it was because he was simply trying to upset her more, but really, couldn't he come up with other ways to do that than calling her Emily?

"Uh, no Rupert," Lee replied, trying to keep her voice calm. "That's more than enough. Really, you need to learn to do math if you're claiming to be better than me. Even if you're really over charging for your coffee here, there should still be at least a couple dollars left over.

"Now, are you going to pour me my coffee, or not? Cause just to warn you, I can get rather vindictive toward those who don't let me have my coffee."

Lee paused, cocking her head slightly as she looked at Rupert, a small smile spreading across her face. "Do you still go to church?"

>> "Combined with all the other **** spewing out of your mouth, you not killing me is hypocritical. But you always have been a hypocrite, haven't you?"

Rupert couldn't help but grin, and shake his head and the same time, just slightly. The woman really was trying very hard to convince him to kill her, wasn't she? Maybe he would oblige her, someday. But not while she was standing in front of the countertop at his friend's coffee shop. There were better places for it. Take, for instance, her apartment. He did know where the woman lived, after all. Her and her little murdering fiancée, too. Tempting. "If you're feeling suicidal," Rupert kindly offered, "then I can recommend the address of a good bridge."

>> "Uh, no Rupert. That's more than enough. Really, you need to learn to do math if you're claiming to be better than me. Even if you're really over charging for your coffee here, there should still be at least a couple dollars left over. ...Now, are you going to pour me my coffee, or not? Cause just to warn you, I can get rather vindictive toward those who don't let me have my coffee."

Rupert picked the ten dollars up with both hands. Gave it a little both-ends pull, as if to straighten out its wrinkles. Then, with out a word, he held it over the counter's edge, and released it: it drifted its wavering paper path to the floor. Rupert leaned his arms back on the counter. Just in time for her next little attempt at an attack, apparently. Her mouth was moving into a smile: really, this should be good. He just couldn't wait.

>> "Do you still go to church?"

Rupert's smile died on his face. He straightened back up. "No," he answered, concisely. Not since James Delray had approached him at the funeral. They hadn't actually acted on anything yet, but the planning was well underway. "Now. Are you going to leave, or do you really appreciate my company that much, Lee?" He'd slipped up: he'd used the name the woman liked, rather than the name he'd been purposefully needling her with.

Rupert grinned when she called him a hypocrite. Then said he could suggest a bridge if she were feeling suicidal. "You'd never have met me if I had ever felt suicidal," Lee told Rupert, staring him straight in the eye. "And believe me, I've had plenty of reasons over the years to be suicidal. A bit masochistic at times maybe, but never suicidal."

And then Rupert picked up the ten dollar bill she had placed on the counter. Actually touched something she had touched. And proceeded to drop it on the floor. Lee watched the bill slowly drift downward, then aised her eyes to Rupert again, who was leaning against the counter smiling at her.

A smile that disappeared as soon as she had asked about church. She knew, knew that that would have gotten to him, knew that he'd have a good idea where she was going with the question.

But then he said something about how he didn't go to church any more, and Lee's smile faded ever so slightly. "Oh, well I'm sure there's still quite a few of your cop friends who'd be interested about our little dinner date and sleep over we had. Unless, of course, that's the reason you're working here now?" So what if that wasn't exactly accurate. They didn't need to know that, and Rupert was a mutant hater, after all.

Rupert went on to ask a question of his own, once which actually needed Lee to think for a moment. "Actually," Lee said slowly after a couple of moments. "You're not that bad of company, as long as you don't have a gun or remote in your hand. But it beats sitting around bored in the shop. Huh. Who'd'a thought?"