#every time Jenny thinks 'it can't get any weirder than this' it does in fact get a little weirder lmaoo

[tongueandtailbutcher]

Jenny takes a step forward to go help pick up the items now strewn across the footpath, only to just as quickly withdraw upon realising the stranger didn’t need her help. She shifts her stance, trying to play it off; it’s too early for this. Now she just has to hope she can make it through this early morning social interaction without coming across too off putting to the new face in town. After all, she seems nice enough; though of course no one ever turns out who they seem to be, the world has proven this to Jenny time and time again. Needless to say, Jenny isn’t letting her guard down any time soon.

She gazes over at the woman in front of her, subtly looking her up and down in an attempt gain any kind of understanding as to who she had just run into. Jenny hadn’t expected there to be someone else out and about at this hour yet in reality she’s just another woman on her way to work, so nothing out of the ordinary. Or at least that’s what the situation appears to be. So theoretically at least, nothing all too surprising.

Though what does surprise her is the mention of a diner on the edge of town; she has lived in Port Townsend her entire life yet has never heard of this place. But then again, Jenny isn’t exactly the most social of humans; that is to say they she’d choose a meal in at home as opposed to going out every time without fail. Thus, it’s easy enough to just chalk this up to the fact that she hadn’t heard of such a place because she had never gone looking for it. It’s not like she could name every business in Port Townsend after all.

“You do realise how crazy that sounds right? How crazy it would be for me to follow a complete stranger?” she raises her eyebrows. Though as crazy as it is Jenny has to admit that a free cup of coffee sounds pretty damn good right about now. She’s silent for a moment before sighing. Screw it. At this point she had been through crazier.

“But lucky for you, your diner seems to be the only place that’s even close to being open and I am in desperate need of that coffee,” she pauses, the corners of her mouth curving upwards in a small smile for a brief moment. “So if you’re going to kill me at least let me drink the coffee first.”

Just as quickly as the smile had appeared on Jenny’s face it’s replaced with her usual straight faced expression. She gives a small nod in Clara’s direction as if to say “lead the way”.

Upon the sudden realisation she hadn’t introduced herself yet, she quickly adds, “I’m Jenny, by the way. I own and run the butcher shop not far from here.”

Why was she here? Why had her first solo mission in the TARDIS end up being one where she ends up in some spooky, teen comic looking town, having to explain to people how a diner appeared out of nowhere? Good lord, when she gets back to Me after this to catch her up, Me is going to have an absolute field day with this. Clara Oswald, the Doctor’s past companion, not able to keep her nose out of trouble for one minute.

Yes, she was still having to keep up the facade of being a waitress/owner of a seemingly timeless diner that constantly seemed to appear from nowhere, and she was damn glad that she had enough psychic paper to pretend to have permits to run things. To be fair, she did end up hearing a lot of what was what and weird around while serving coffee, but needing a place to rest or rent to pay wasn't an issue for her seeing as the diner was a facade and somehow her TARDIS had realized that in order to seem legit during undercover it would need to make food. The old girl is clever, making food that is good enough but not so good that people will want to keep coming back regularly because she was the only staff and she would not be changing that.

Clara wasn't the Doctor. She wasn't going to be bringing on companions. She didn't even mean to land here--wherever here is--but something was keeping her grounded here. So, she played the waitress role. Went into town at early and late hours to mention a diner that was catered to the early birds and night owls, that people were convinced that it had appeared from no where when in fact it was just a gem hidden in plain sight. Really, it's too easy to convince people what is real with a fake couple fake Google reviews and a TARDIS-generated website.

Tonight, though, she'd spent most of her late hours snooping around town, trying to see if anything was amiss. Well, amiss enough that it would halt the TARDIS from moving, because in all her time as the Doctor's companion, only a few things could keep a TARDIS landed.

Having been so lost in thought, Clara hadn't noticed she was in the direct walking path of another before it was too late. The items that were in her hands (psychic paper, a burner phone, and a couple of old newspapers) were strewn to the ground. Eyes widened as she took in the physique of the individual--had she touched Clara long enough to feel her lack of pulse? Surely not, but she couldn't be too sure. Nothing seemed to have raised alarm bells as the person seemed as frazzled as Clara herself.

"No, no -- it takes two to tumble, I wasn't watching where I was going and I'm not used to the town just yet." Falling into character, Clara began to pick up her fallen belongings before stuffing them into the messenger back that was slung over her shoulder. She needed to play the part of a small town waitress who... somehow inherited a diner? What is this, a Hallmark Movie? Clara, focus. This is your first interactions with someone interesting and who might be your in to beginning to figure out what the heck made this place so special. "I can't tell which I need more at night, a cuppa tea or coffee. I was rushing to get to my cycle to head into work, the diner just outside of town? Been here for ages, passed down by some estranged family member who married into the family. I'm lucky I got here when I did because it apparently had been forgotten by everyone. Can I -- do you want coffee on the house?" Realizing this was absolutely an outrageous thing to ask a stranger, she added in the words that every woman would want to hear after being requested to go to a second location with a stranger, "I promise, I'm not a murderer. Just a waitress and owner... and absolutely failing at this conversation. Can I blame the different social cues from the UK and here? Or do I just have to say that I have scared away a potential customer? I'm really bad at this communicating with new people thing, what with the diner hours being so whack that I barely get to get out. I'm Clarissa, but everyone just calls me Clara. I'm... very new, as you can tell."