As Bradley entered the diner, the smell was instantly recognizable. He had been here many times during his contract assassin days, he enjoyed the peacefulness, the food, and to feel like he fit in somewhere.
He walked over to the counter and motioned to Mel, the owner. Mel approached the counter to take Bradley's order.
"What'll it be?" Mel asked.
"One custard tart and a flat white. Hot." Bradley responded, glaring at Mel through his glasses.
"Take a seat, it'll be ready soon" Said Mel, walking back into the kitchen area briefly.
Bradley looked around the diner, it was busy, really busy. He walked over to the furthest booth in an attempt to distance himself from the racket of people going about their daily business. As he approached it he noticed a girl sleeping on one side of the booth lounge.
She was in her 20's, blonde, a beautiful girl. But Bradley had given up on girls upon becoming an assassin.
He sat down on the opposite couch, placed his laptop on the table and glanced over to her.
"Anyone sitting here?" He asked jokingly. "Oh, nevermind, you don't seem to care" He said to himself with a chuckle.
"Actually, I DO mind" Replied the girl.
"Your not asleep?" Bradley replied, astonished.
"Well....I WAS asleep." she yawned, sitting up and facing him.
Bradley calmly patted himself down, without raising the girls attention, he always made sure he had a weapon, always. However in this instance he only carried 7 throwing knives tied to his legs and of course his .45cal polished handgun "Justice". He felt somewhat vulnerable, if this girl was a mutant, things could get messy.
"I apologise for waking you, I thought I was being so quiet..." Bradley joked.
The girl looked him up and down.
"You look fancy, you CIA or something?" She queried.
"I just like the suit." he replied as he opened his laptop.
The girl slid over to his side of the couch, basically touching him. "Whatcha doing?" she asked.
"Nothing!" Bradley said, shoving her off. As he did so, she noticed his gun in it's holster.
"Hey" she said as she got closer to him and wrapped one hand around him and placed the other near his crotch. "Not so rough"
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He whispered into her ear, it had been a while since he felt the touch of a woman. She slid her hand over his crotch and quickly snatch his gun from it's holster and held it between her legs.
"Just watch....." she whispered.
Bradley struggled to not draw attention to himself, he grabbed her arm that was around his shoulder and turned to face her. He looked into her smiling face, and then down to the gun. It slowly turned a dull gray and as the girl clenched her hand it turned into grey dust, falling to the floor along with the bullets that were in it.
"What?!" He loudly whispered as he looked into her eyes. "You're?"
"Yep, isn't it cool? I've been dying to show someone!" she eagerly said.
Mel came over to the table and delivered his snack and coffee, giving a particularly interesting look at Bradley and then at his new friend.
So there Bradley sat, at the back of a packed diner, with a mutie right next to him. He has seven throwing knives taped to his legs as his only weapon.
Great, Just great... He thought to himself.
He walked over to the counter and motioned to Mel, the owner. Mel approached the counter to take Bradley's order.
"What'll it be?" Mel asked.
"One custard tart and a flat white. Hot." Bradley responded, glaring at Mel through his glasses.
"Take a seat, it'll be ready soon" Said Mel, walking back into the kitchen area briefly.
Bradley looked around the diner, it was busy, really busy. He walked over to the furthest booth in an attempt to distance himself from the racket of people going about their daily business. As he approached it he noticed a girl sleeping on one side of the booth lounge.
She was in her 20's, blonde, a beautiful girl. But Bradley had given up on girls upon becoming an assassin.
He sat down on the opposite couch, placed his laptop on the table and glanced over to her.
"Anyone sitting here?" He asked jokingly. "Oh, nevermind, you don't seem to care" He said to himself with a chuckle.
"Actually, I DO mind" Replied the girl.
"Your not asleep?" Bradley replied, astonished.
"Well....I WAS asleep." she yawned, sitting up and facing him.
Bradley calmly patted himself down, without raising the girls attention, he always made sure he had a weapon, always. However in this instance he only carried 7 throwing knives tied to his legs and of course his .45cal polished handgun "Justice". He felt somewhat vulnerable, if this girl was a mutant, things could get messy.
"I apologise for waking you, I thought I was being so quiet..." Bradley joked.
The girl looked him up and down.
"You look fancy, you CIA or something?" She queried.
"I just like the suit." he replied as he opened his laptop.
The girl slid over to his side of the couch, basically touching him. "Whatcha doing?" she asked.
"Nothing!" Bradley said, shoving her off. As he did so, she noticed his gun in it's holster.
"Hey" she said as she got closer to him and wrapped one hand around him and placed the other near his crotch. "Not so rough"
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He whispered into her ear, it had been a while since he felt the touch of a woman. She slid her hand over his crotch and quickly snatch his gun from it's holster and held it between her legs.
"Just watch....." she whispered.
Bradley struggled to not draw attention to himself, he grabbed her arm that was around his shoulder and turned to face her. He looked into her smiling face, and then down to the gun. It slowly turned a dull gray and as the girl clenched her hand it turned into grey dust, falling to the floor along with the bullets that were in it.
"What?!" He loudly whispered as he looked into her eyes. "You're?"
"Yep, isn't it cool? I've been dying to show someone!" she eagerly said.
Mel came over to the table and delivered his snack and coffee, giving a particularly interesting look at Bradley and then at his new friend.
So there Bradley sat, at the back of a packed diner, with a mutie right next to him. He has seven throwing knives taped to his legs as his only weapon.
Great, Just great... He thought to himself.