It's a little past seven in the evening, and the selection at Dunkin Donuts is disappointingly thin. Matt stands in front of the counter, staring in, and when the kid manning the station tries to ask what he wants he holds up a finger. "Don't rush me. I've been awake for thirty-six hours. If there is no apple donut here, I will arrest you." The kid moves off and pretends to clean something.
"Be nice to the kid, he made me coffee." Jane turns, leaning back against the counter. Her jeans are faded and fraying, and just the right side of baggy. Her shirt is cut just high enough at the bottom to ride up when she does that, and show off the little silver hoop at her navel. She eyes Matt, and holds a donut up, on a napkin on her palm. "Apple donut. Last one in the shop. But I don't mind sharing if you get a glazed donut and split it with me."
Matt cocks his head at Jane for a moment, the quick up-and-down glance that comes from a cop place, not a hey-pretty-girl place, and shrugs. "All right. You heard her, squirrel. Also coffee." Beverage and donut in hand, he nods towards a table. "Sit with me? I'm Matt, by the way."
Jane knows Cop Look, but she's finding it more amusing than anything else. She follows Matt over to the table, and sits opposite him. "Jane. Sounds like we both had long nights. Some idiot -key concept here being *not me* decided to have a John Hughes festival last night. Four movies over the course of the night, the entire drive-in filled with teenyboppers and 80's soccer moms trying to reclaim their youth. God."
"Wow," Matt says, on some level truly impressed. "All I had to do was go hunting through dumpsters, your night sounds way worse." He uses a little plastic knife to cut the glazed donut in half and offers half of it over to Jane. "You work at the drive-in, huh."
"I run it - though occasionally I get over-rode when the owner decides he *really* feels like watching Molly Ringwald in something." Jane rolls her eyes, but her tone is affectionate. "Dumpsters, huh? I think we ought to call it a draw, though if you look sad you might get me to split another donut with you."
"Oh, I can look sad. I can't divorce it from tired, though. Your name's really Jane?" Matt reaches for that apple donut. He came here for the apple, dammit.
"Wanna see my driver's license?" Jane grins across the table at Matt, and pushes the napkin over towards him. Have an apple donut. "You trying to say that I don't look like a Jane?"
Matt puts both elbows on the table and bites off some donut. He chews, taking his time, swallows, and then says, "You look like a - Ravyn. Or Storm, or something. You got the whole goth punk thing going on."
"Oh, this week. Next week it might be hillbilly haut couture. I get bored, and this is my preferred canvas." Jane leans back in her chair, stretching. "Plus, I love the looks people get. I'm not one of those bullshit artists who do it for some "Deep Inner Meaning" - I just like the attention."
"I dress as a cop for exactly the same reason." Matt smiles. He's sleepy, but he is enjoying this conversation anyway. "You're not from around here?"
"Me? Nah. Moved here with a friend a few months ago. He likes to buy things but hates to run them - except when it means ruining my plans for an evening. So he buys things, and I run them. Well, I'm running this one." Jane breaks off a piece of her donut and dips it into her coffee, eating in neat little chunks. "It's an experiment. But I'm enjoying it so far."
"Rich friends, that's gotta be nice." Matt watches the way Jane's decimating her donut, amusement lingering on his face. "Hope he pays you enough to put up with John Hughes, though."
"It's the *best*. You should see my apartment." Jane's eyes are bright with laughter as she finishes working her way through half a glazed donut. "On the other hand... John Hughes. I'd try to pay him back, but I'm not sure there's a movie out there he hates."
"So, uh - find something he does hate and make him go with you." Matt thinks for a moment. "What do rich dudes hate? Biker bars? Take him somewhere you'd be happy and he wouldn't."
"Maybe I will." Jane watches Matt her fingers hovering over her half of the apple donut - then she rolls her eyes and offers it over. "C'mon. Gimme your half of the glazed - you can have this one." She knows Cop Look *and* Apple Donut look.
"You," Matt says, switching the halves, "are the best. Next time you get a parking ticket, you call me." He might be kidding. It's hard to tell.
"I just might do that. Tell you what, *you* come to the drive-in some night, and I'll comp *your* ticket... just to keep it fair. Make it a night when something good is playing, and I *might* even bring some popcorn and hang out with you." Jane doesn't mind the donut swapping - not really. She likes glazed just fine. Hell, she likes anything sweet.
"What, like a date?" Matt doesn't seem troubled by this, but despite his sleepy demeanour, he's definitely watching Jane for her reaction to that idea.
"Maaaybe." Jane doesn't seem bothered by it either, though she doesn't really make a habit of dating cops. She just hasn't met very many who could put up with her fashion sense *and* her sense of humor. "I like a guy who comes with his own set of cuffs."
This time Matt doesn't just smile, he grins and sits back in his chair. "I like a girl who'd explode in an MRI machine, maybe it's fate. Let me find you my card here." He gets into a tangle needing to wipe his fingers to get his card out.
"Oh lord." Jane is giggling herself into a fit. She digs around in her purse and comes up with a travel packet of diaper wipes. "Here. Use this. If it can get mascara off after an all night dance marathon, it can handle donut glaze."
"It's such a cliche, right? But I'm tired, I don't know, I needed a donut." Matt takes a wipe and cleans his hands with it, then fishes a card out of his pocket. "Here, that's me. I swear I'm a real cop."
"Hey, I'm a donut junkie. You aren't going to get any grief from me." Jane takes the card, and looks it over, then tucks it away, before she fishes one of her own out of her purse. It's a business card for the drive-in, but she writes her cell number on the back, and offers it over. "Call me anytime. Anytime after the next eight hours. I am going to go home and *sleep*. First person to wake me up is getting a phone thrown at them."