A/N- Hey all. Sorry for the wait. You guys are awesome with the reviews. I love getting them, you have no idea. From this chapter and on, I'm not going to personally thank my reviewers. It just takes up a lot of space. But believe me, don't think I don't appreciate you guys, I really do. I'll do a final thank you in the final chapter, whenever that comes along. Ok, just a disclaimer to do and the story is after it! Review, damnit! Don't forget! Also, this formatting is screwing up my paragraph indents, don't fret, I'm not a complete incompetent idiot. I know about it.
Disclaimer- Don't own it. Just obsess over it.
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George practically sped the entire way to the Waffle House. Thoughts flew through her mind almost as fast as she sped through the night.
"Where was Scarlet?"
"Could she be hurt?"
These questions were a bit premature, but George found herself worrying like a mother who had just lost her child.
"She only left a few minutes before you," She told the empty car. "She couldn't have walked very far."
"But what if she hitchhiked?" Her mind countered. George pressed her foot to the accelerator further, urging the car to go faster. It was still a bit early for any murderers to prowl for prey, but George still worried. The diner couldn't have loomed next to her any sooner.
George pulled into the tiny parking lot with ease. Most of the cars that sat in the spaces belonged to the staff of the Waffle House, patiently waiting for their owner's shifts to end so they could speed along the roads towards home. George pulled herself out of the Mustang and rushed to the front door, squinting through the large picture windows as she entered.
The Reaper stopped at the door and scanned the room for the somewhat familiar face of her younger counterpart. Her search did not prevail, however, as all the faces were strange to her.
George slowly walked to the Reaper's usual booth and plopped into the faux leather seats. Fake German music could be heard clearly overhead, as there was hardly any patrons in the restaurant to overshadow the jingles. One of the only couples in the diner was sat in the far table by the kitchen, chatting mildly.
Scarlet was nowhere in sight, but George made herself calm down while Kiffany came to her table and poured coffee into a ceramic cup with a tired smile and a menu. As the waitress walked back to the counter, George looked out the large windows that viewed the miniscule parking lot, as if she could magically make Scarlet appear right outside them.
"Maybe I passed her on the road." George thought to herself. "She could be still walking. I'll just wait for her here."
George watched the couple whom were seated by the kitchen talking. The woman's face had begun to grow red in anger, clashing with her bright blond hair. Her voice had begun to rise steadily over the past few minutes. The man sitting across from her seemed to be embarrassed at her slowly rising voice. He motioned with his hands for her to calm down, but she disregarded him. Eventually, George could hear the words that passed from the woman to the man.
"What do you mean 'leave'?!" She half-shouted. "I own half of that house and I will not leave so some bimbo hooker you supposedly love can move in!" The man seemed to shrink as his wife's voice rose. "You took me to a public place so I wouldn't make a scene! Well you know what? You were wrong." She then followed through by dousing his nearly hidden face in steaming coffee and dumping her meal into his lap. She topped it off by pulling her wedding ring off of her finger and throwing it in the direction of her dinner. She then strode from the restaurant, the check to be taken care of by the humiliated husband.
George had been watching them quarrel so intently that when the bell above the front door rang in salutations, it slammed her back into reality. Her head snapped up as a string redhead strolled over to the man with the burger in his lap.
George swore silently. She had hoped that Scarlet would have turned up at the diner by now, but her doubt grew with each passing minute.
About thirty minutes had gone by when George finally stopped watching the door. A half-eaten muffin and an untouched piece of pecan pie sat before her, along with an empty mug, stained with the past presence of coffee.
"Why do you care so much?" George questioned herself silently. She hadn't really thought about it while she had been waiting. Logistics tumbled through her mind.
"You've only known her for less than a day."
"But she seemed to need help. I'm kind of responsible for her leaving the house."
"When have you ever helped someone you barely knew, let along cared about?"
"She could be hurt."
"She could be fine. In a hotel, like she said. Or on a flight back to Chicago."
But George didn't believe it. In her gut, she knew Scarlet hadn't left the city that night.
"Go back home. Get some rest! She'll show up for food eventually. If not, someone will help you look for her tomorrow."
George sighed as her laziness won out the argument. "It would be better to look for her in the morning. Maybe she went back to the house, anyway." George's sensible side agreed.
She paid her tab, waved a slight goodbye to a weary Kiffany and walked to her car. The bell above the door jangled its farewell.
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OK, that's it for now. It seemed a lot longer when I hand wrote it. shrugs OK, review please! You guys have been slacking. Lol. I'll update soon, I hope.
I remain,
-Pendragon4-