A/N

The designs in the picture aren't the designs in this story! In fact, I based their human designs on JG and Sam, except the other characters're any human design you want lmao. Anyway, I hope you love this story. Sorry for being so absent from here, but uploading new stories/chapters is going to become pretty much once in a blue moon.

Already obvious, but this's a humanised AU.

Mordecai doesn't know why he came here. Fancy restaurants weren't exactly his scene no matter how many times he stepped into one. The lights were far too bright, the music loud, the food was covered in glazes too thick they made you want to gag and the place was nearly always packed with people who could clearly afford to buy out the entire place if they wanted to - dressed with their dazzling riches and eloquent speech, Mordecai feels incredibly out of place just being in their presence, let alone having the want to pay them up front by simply smarting a glimpse of their sapphire encrusted rings.

He stifles a groan as he nurses a half filled glass of white wine, his arm stretched out on the table with his eyes glued to it. Across from him, Rigby soaks up the lavishness of it all, dressed to the nines in a snappy suit he'd been able to afford thanks to the extra hours he'd put in for Maellard - he'd only done so of course for Eileen, who's giggling away next to Rigby; she's dressed in a simple yet elegant pink dress which balances the line between standing out and fitting in and there's a pink butterfly clip in her hair that catches the light every so often. Margaret's beside Mordecai, holding her own glass of white wine and sipping it slowly with her gaze drinking in the atmosphere. She looks almost as uncomfortable as Mordecai feels - neither of them want to be out and about that was for sure. She's stunning in a pale yellow dress, which fades into a dark orange close to the bottom, and a sparkling silver belt hugs her middle; like Eileen, she's been smart with her choice of attire for the evening, though while both girls had the similar idea of how to appear aware, they don't share the attitude of wishing to stay longer than intended. Four empty plates that once held the claimed "best lobster of the oceans" have been pushed away next to a filled breadstick basket, one of which Margaret grabs and begins tearing at before nibbling on a piece.

Waiters stride about the tables, delivering food, taking orders and continuously asking how their dinner is in their snooty, clearly fake french accents which Mordecai audibly snorts at when he sees one of them a couple of tables down. The woman he's speaking to nods and flashes a row of pearly whites, pointing to the food and nodding along with her husband. The waiter soon collects their plates, a few more words are exchanged, then he walks off to the kitchen where the sound of dishes being thrown into a sink are drowned out by the various conversations by the diners. Eileen suddenly bursts into laughter and Mordecai looks away from the waiter to fix his attention on her, Margaret too eyeing the pair in what can only be described as both confusion and frustration. Mordecai doesn't know if he can understand her anger with them. Confusion, of course. But he's anything but mad with them. It was his own fault for agreeing to tag along after all. And Margaret had only followed because she needed something else to think about that wasn't her camera-ready job.

Mordecai straightens up and raises his glass to his lips, downing the rest of its contents with ease. He resists slamming it down on the table and for a quick second, he considers raising his hand for another one, but his eyes clip to Margaret who still hasn't strayed from the happy couple. Eileen surprisingly fits in well with the crowd, as if she comes here more often than not and no one pays her a single glance when she dissolves into laughter once again thanks to a lame punchline Rigby just relayed. Clearly she's enjoying herself. And that's not even with the assistance of alcohol. Rigby's grinning from ear to ear and he suddenly looks over at Mordecai as if to say "we should do this tomorrow night". Mordecai forces a smile back but when Rigby turns to Eileen again, he's quick to let it go and sighs heavily which Margaret manages to spot. She hides a laugh behind her hand and Mordecai suppresses the urge to hunch back over the table to stare out at the suits and jewels occupying every table that wasn't theirs. He doesn't think he's been this bored in his entire life, and that's saying something.

He badly wants to elbow Rigby in the ribs, maybe haul his ass off the chair and out the door, but he's having such a riot that Mordecai knows he'll feel bad if he starts making a scene for his selfish purposes. Besides, Rigby would throw a fit if he humiliated him in front of not only the restaurants occupies but Eileen as well, and that would go down like a lead balloon tomorrow afternoon…something Mordecai would not wish to deal with. Better to be safe than sorry, then. He sighs again and considers for the second time raising his hand for another glass, maybe something stronger this time would bear this evening, but Margaret holds out a breadstick and he immediately takes it, meeting her eyes to be directed with a knowing smile.

"There's more in the basket," she says simply and Mordecai snickers as he breaks off a chunk. He tosses it into his mouth and gratefully eats, suddenly fully aware that Rigby and Eileen are still so blissfully ignorant of their friends utter boredom at being stuck in here. Oh well, like he could care less. At least he got free bread out of this night.

Mordecai grins as he tears away another piece, nodding to Margarets purse, "You should hide them in your bag. We could have a nice midnight snack."

Margaret laughs, "Oh, like the lobster wasn't enough for your tastes?"

"I don't have particularly high standards with food, Margaret." Mordecai jokes. Margaret gives a cheeky grin then glances at the pair across the table, who're soaked in their own bubble, which makes Margarets lips fall as she lifts her gaze to Mordecai who's now picking out the inside of the breadstick. She instantly slaps his hand away and he looks up in surprise, opening his mouth to say something but at her expression, he goes quiet instead.

Her brown eyes shine, "Would it be rude to walk out? I wouldn't mind catching a movie." Her voice is hopeful with a touch of regret; the exact tone of somebody who's just wasted an hour sipping expensive bubbly and wishing to let the floor swallow them whole. Mordecai considers it. He seriously does. It's as if Margarets words open up a new opportune window, and his heart soars at the possibility of leaving, but then Rigby's voice pierces into his thoughts and all his hopes're dashed.

He sighs, wanting more than anything to take her and slip out unnoticed, "Believe me, I've been wondering the same thing." He smiles again when a thought comes to him. Maybe he can still make light of this, "Would getting drunk help at all?

Margaret laughs, "As long as I'm not paying."

"Rigby's offered, remember?"

They go to raise their hands, but a vibration suddenly comes from Margarets purse. She scrambles to open it and pulls out her phone, which utters a lame ringtone and she casts Mordecai an apologetic look before flipping it open and holding it to her ear. Mouthing a "sorry" to Mordecai and pointing at the phone, she hurriedly stands and heads for the bathroom, leaving Mordecai to his thoughts once again. Rigby and Eileen are still lost in their own world, neither of them noticing Margarets apparent absence from the table, and he fights the want to interrupt them for it. How dare they have a good night!

Mordecai abandons the breadstick on the table beside the pile of crumbs he'd been assembling earlier and drums his fingers on the tablecloth, looking back out at everyone. The restaurant's a lot less full than it had been when they'd first come in much to his surprise and he watches a waiter gather an occupants dishes, while another waiter puts out new plates & cutlery, menus bunched underneath his arm which he brings out and lays beside the plates. Though Mordecai hates almost everything about this place, he has to admit that their attention to detail is impressive as is the pristine nature of their uniform and their stable attitude when dealing with rude diners. There's been a definite fair share of those since the group had taken their table and he's mildly astonished at how well they're able to manage it all. Though, he'd never speak of it aloud. He'd never hear the end of it from Margaret.

In amongst Rigby and Eileens chatter, the loud voice of another waiter pulls Mordecai to attention and he tears his gaze from the tables being set up to a suit handling a customer. A few people are looking over, some women even raising their spectacles to catch a glimpse of the "commotion." They're many tables off, but Mordecai can still catch what's being said. The customer's alone and telling from his voice, he's frustrated, almost desperate to let this waiter leave him be.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I must insist-"

"He'll be here, alright? Just-just five more minutes."

The waiter stands there a moment, his back to Mordecai. The customer's face is tilted to him and his mouth moves; his voice's gone a notch quieter but the waiter repeats himself, saying that it's been almost 30 minutes since he's come in. The customer begins stammering something….

The occupants quickly go back to their dishes and conversation when nothing interesting arises from the situation, but Mordecai's still fixed on the pair. If he squints hard enough, he's able to make out the customer raising his hands and his face going red while the waiter, bless him, keeps his cool and firmly repeats what he'd said before, while adding in his own comment. The customer suddenly stands, causing his chair to jerk and many heads turn this time. Mordecai even finds himself rising from his seat. He doesn't know why, but an overwhelming part of him hopes the waiter doesn't crack and drag the customer back through the doors. He's just able to keep his temper down, but anyone could see that he was fit to burst any minute now. Who knows what the waiter looked like. The customers hand is on the back of his chair while the other points at the waiter, his mouth hurriedly opening and closing as spit flies dangerously close to him…

Rigby's almost at the punchline of his joke when he suddenly recognises the silence that's fallen across the room. Both him and Eileen halt in their giggling and turn to see almost everyone watching a scene unfold in the middle of the restaurant, a situation between a customer and a waiter. Rigby's eyes roam the tables, the people now unable to look away from the pair, until they come to rest on Mordecai who's stood up with his hand pressed to the tablecloth, Margarets purse beside it. Rigby climbs out of his seat and Eileen follows him to his side, both of them listening in.

Rigby looks up at Mordecai, "Hey man, what's going on?"

Mordecai doesn't take his eyes away. The customer looks ready to reel his hand back any minute, "I don't know."

Rigby doesn't ask anything more and the three watch with everyone else. No other waiters try to step in, and the waiter currently left to take charge of this interruption seems very still, which for some reason, doesn't sit well with Mordecai.

"Sir, please, I must ask you to leave-"

"My date will be here, I already told you!"

Mordecai's heart clenches. A slap should echo right about now…

But nothing comes. The waiter finally backs down and his hands go up to clasp together, "If she iz not 'ere within 10 minutes, you will 'ave no choice but to leave the premises. Iz that understood?" He speaks steadily, but there's a warning beneath his voice which the customer thankfully notices. He bluntly nods and, with his face still a bright red, lowers his hand and falls back into his chair in defeat. The waiter bows once more then turns to leave, and a collective, almost relieved sigh breaks across the entire room. Chairs are heard scraping across the floor as everyone resumes seating and finishing off their meals, while the ticked off waiter returns to his clan to discuss what's just occurred. Eileen lets out a breath and Rigby wipes his brow, a large smile tugging on his face,

"Man, I thought that was gonna be ugly. Can you imagine what would've hap…Mordecai?"

Mordecais legs've turned to jelly. He's too transfixed on this customer to answer Rigby, let alone throw a few insults to the fake french waiter. He lands back in his seat, his hands folded in his lap which he notices are trembling slightly. The customer has his head down so Mordecai can't see his face anymore, but his hair's fallen over his forehead.

Rigby nudges him, "Dude, you alright?"

Mordecai jumps and when he registers someone beside him, he quickly hides his hands from view and forces a reassuring smile, "Yeah, I'm okay. That was…pretty intense, man."

Rigby nods, "I know. I thought a fight was gonna break out or something."

Mordecai chokes out a laugh, "So did I."

Rigby moves away to go back to Eileen, now enthralled in the idea of a brawl happening inside the restaurant and he punches the air as Eileen laughs. Mordecai quickly tunes them out and looks back at his hands to see they're no longer shaking, but his legs would still buckle underneath him if he dared stand. He can't explain it to himself, Rigby, Eileen, or probably not Margaret, but something about witnessing those two about to engage in a full blown argument deeply unsettles him. But it's not just that. There's more.

He looks back at the customer again to see him still in the same spot, this time with a hand to each side of his head as if he's thinking on what to do next. From the corner of his eye, he can see the group of waiters haven't disbanded and instead are huddled together to talk amongst themselves, with a few jerking their thumbs back to the man. The behaviour buries itself into Mordecai and he glares at them all, not caring if one of them sees and starts muttering to his colleagues about him. He doesn't know why he feels so strongly about this situation. Nobody else does.

His hands have stopped trembling now and he raises one to hold the side of his chair, the other by his side as he finds himself standing again. With his eyes on the customer, he suddenly moves away from the pair.

Rigby looks up from talking with Eileen and his mouth falls open when he sees Mordecai's gone. He goes to speak, but catches sight of him walking towards the customers table and frowns, "What's he doing?"

No one pays any attention to him; the drama's over for all the occupants know and they're only waiting for 10 more minutes to pass before the customer's forced to get out. The waiters have the same idea too - Mordecai figures they'll stay in their group until the timer's up.

The closer he gets to the table, the more the anxiety begins to hit and he suddenly stops in the middle of the pathway to hesitate. His hands are fine as are his legs, but his stomach's twisting in knots. His heart begins to race and he can barely hear Rigby's voice calling his name. At the far side of the restaurant, the toilet door opens and Margaret emerges, snapping her phone closed. She starts to make her way back to the groups table, but when she sees Mordecai walking towards another occupying a stranger, she frowns and hurries to Rigby and Eileen who are just as confused as she is. Her face is flushed from her phone conversation and she sidles up to the two, watching Mordecai with her brows knitting together, "What's-"

"We don't know," Rigby answers.

Margaret glances at them, "Did something happen while I was gone?" She looks past them, now noticing the waiters oddly circled together and she tilts her head, "Why-"

"You missed the beginning of a fight," Rigby explains, "But a waiter stopped it from getting nasty."

Margaret blinks, glancing from the pair to Mordecai then back again. Finally, she sighs and goes back to her seat. She's too tired to deal with this right now. Her phone conversation had thrown her; merely a friend questioning if she should get back with her ex, and now a fight's almost broken out in the restaurant. She grabs her purse, stuffs her phone inside, then reaches for hers and Mordecai's glasses to top hers up.