Disclaimer. I do not own anything. Just the feeling of sadness that these two characters had short runs in the shows!
She sat at the far corner of the diner with a Conan Doyle piece. Despite the unfamiliarity of this big city, she could not help but feel at home with a good book and good coffee. The diner is packed; nevertheless, she was able to tune out every stranger in there. A few chapters gone by and her eyes felt weary. All of a sudden, her instincts told her to glance up in the northwest direction and she obliged.
Her eyes met those of a woman with dark eyes, long, wavy locks, and a vibrant, unsure smile. She hesitated-waiting for what the mystery girl would do. Surprisingly, the woman stopped right at her booth and smiled, this time more certain.
"Hey. Have I seen you before?" Dark eyes asked.
The woman with the book hesitated; not entirely sure whether this woman was someone she met before. "I'm sorry, but I don't think so," she smiled apologetically. "I'm not even from around here." Soft giggle.
"Oh, I see. I'm sorry. I meant to ask whether this seat was taken," she gestured behind her. "The diner today is packed." It was then that the woman with the book noticed the coffee cup in Dark eyes' hand, along with a cute-looking pastry on the other.
"Oh," she brightened, "That seat is all yours," she offered the one across her.
"Thank you," dark eyes said. "I thought you'd freak out with my opening line." She sighed, exaggerating. The move elicited another giggle from the woman with the book.
"Don't worry." The woman shrugged. "Besides, I would not be afraid of a person working in law enforcement," she assured.
Dark eyes slightly raised a brow. "I'm impressed. How'd you know?"
"Well.." the woman with the book pretended to inspect her. "There's that look in your eyes that says you've seen a lot more things that are not good for the memory. Your smile is beautiful, but it glows with hurt.." she trailed off, looking distant.
"Err.." was the only sound dark eyes could make. She felt uneasy; she wasn't sure anymore whether sharing a booth with this woman was still a good idea. Silence in the table.
"Gotcha," the woman with the book explained. "My, you fell for that." She giggled once more. "I'm sorry."
"Oh," dark eyes breathed a sigh of relief. "You're good. And right, by the way." She too, was giggling. "How did you know? And I'm serious this time." She said, amazed.
"My fiance's FBI. He's a profiler; I kind of get it from him," she offered with a sense of pride. "We're visiting here in New York."
"That's cool. FBI, huh. Nice," she complimented, impressed. Then finally occurring to her that they did not introduce themselves to each other, she found an opening. "I'm Detective Jessica Angell, by the way. From the New York PD."
The woman with the book smiled, satisfied with her little act on "profiling". "I'm Maeve Donovan."