#hopefully that warning my car threw up yesterday was just a quirk

[skxrbrand]

*DUMPS PLOT AND THEN SKEDADDLES*

[raptorginger]

The Waffle House Index

Yes, that’s a real thing used by FEMA

I did the thing!  Short one shot inspired by the madness on Twitter yesterday

The heavy downpour continued its relentless assault on her windshield, and thunder kept rattling her bones, but Rey knew the worst of the hurricane was over.  Hurricane Mary had slammed into Key Largo with little warning, and authorities had issued evacuation notices, but Rey hadn’t been able to get out in time.  She had hunkered down with her landlord Unkar in his office at Niima Motel, both of them too stubborn to heed the notice before it was too late.  Rey was cursing her stubbornness at the moment as she swerved carefully to avoid the trees, branches, and debris strewn about Highway 1.  Unkar was grumbling in the seat beside her, anxious to get to their destination.  Unkar would prefer to drive, but his truck was crushed beneath a palm tree, so Rey’s beat up Geo Tracker it was, and she never let anyone else drive her car.

“Watch it, girl!” Unkar snarled in his old man way, his arthritic fingers gripping the arm rest.

“I’m doing my best Mr. Plutt,” Rey snapped as she leaned forward to try and see the road better.

Unkar grumbled and coughed beside her, crossing his arms.

“Damn place better be open,” she muttered under her breath.

A snort of laughter erupted out of Unkar.  “We’d be dead if it ain’t.  If it’s closed that’d mean we survived the apocalypse.”

Rey shot him a confused glance before turning her eyes back to the road.  “What?”

“You ain’t never heard of the Waffle House Index?  Oh right, you’re from some snotty place in England.”

Rey rolled her eyes.  The place she came from in England could never be called snotty, but Unkar considered all of England to be, how had he put it?  Full of high falutin’ muckity mucks.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me, girl.  It’s a legitimate scale.  FEMA uses it,” he boasted, puffing out his chest at knowing something she didn’t.

“What is the Waffle House Index, Mr. Plutt?” Rey asked, humoring him.  Hopefully it’d keep him from side seat driving until they got to the restaurant.

Rey barely heard him as he blathered on about the index and the three color levels and what they meant.  Finally Rey could see a tall sign glowing bright yellow through the haze of the rain.  She slowed to a crawl, grateful there was hardly anyone else on the road, and watched for the turn.  At last the actual sign for the restaurant appeared, glowing brightly like a beacon.  Rey rotated the wheel and pulled into the parking lot, parking in a spot close to the entrance.  She arched a brow in bemusement.  The outside of the restaurant was styled like an old fashioned American diner with a bright yellow crown of sorts emblazoned with large black letters proudly proclaiming ‘Waffle House.’  She was happy to see that the inside was brightly lit, and she could even see a few people milling about inside.

“Looks like the index is green.  Let’s go, girl,” Unkar said gruffly.

“Let me help you, Mr. Plutt,” Rey insisted, jumping out of the car and running over to the passenger side.  She threw the hood of her dark green windbreaker up, holding it with one hand while she opened Unkar’s door with the other.  He was muttering something about not needing help, that he could manage just fine on his own, he wasn’t an invalid, but his grip on her arm was firm and grateful as he carefully set the base of his cane on the pavement and stepped down.  Rey smiled when she felt his hand pat her arm in thanks.  She helped him into the restaurant, and she sighed with happiness as she felt the warm air hit her damp face.  She pulled her hood down and sniffed.  The place smelled of syrup and breakfast, and it indeed was fashioned like an old diner.  A handful of people were seated at the bar, cups of hot coffee clasped between grateful hands.  Rey’s eye was drawn immediately to a large figure slumped over the counter, his large hands swallowing the mug he was holding.  His dark hair brushed his shoulders and shielded his eyes as he stared into the dark contents of his mug.  A grey henley was stretched pleasingly over his torso, and the dark rinse jeans her was wearing seemed to fit him to a tee. Rey was suddenly glad Unkar had insisted on venturing out.  He ran one large hand over the back of his neck and heaved a sigh.

Unkar released her arm and lifted it in greeting to a group of elderly patrons seated at a booth in the corner.  They all waved and shouted greetings.  Unkar’s poker buddies, Rey realized with some surprise.  Apparently Unkar and his friends all shared the same sense of stubborness.  Rey helped him over and made sure he was settled comfortably.  He patted her hand in thanks, and Rey blinked in surprise when he gave her a kind smile, his rheumy eyes twinkling.

“Thanks, girl,” he whispered gruffly.  He slipped a crisp twenty dollar bill into her hand and shooed her over to the bar.

Rey wandered over, shrugging off her coat as she went, hanging it on a nearby coat rack.  She took a seat beside the dark stranger and picked up the menu a friendly waitress placed in front of her and poured her a cup of coffee without her even asking.

“Thank you,” Rey murmured to the middle aged woman.

“No problem, Hun.  Take your time, we got the full menu,” she said cheerily before she went to see to another customer.

Rey focused on opening sugar packets and the tiny containers of creamer while sneaking glances at the guy beside her.  In profile, she could make out distinct, somewhat angular features.  A broad nose, a plush looking mouth.  The few moles and freckles peppering his pale skin.  Rey felt warmth return to her blood.  She had never really thought she had a type, but he certainly seemed to check a lot of her boxes.

“You ignore the evacuation order too?” Rey finally asked quietly as she stirred her coffee.

The guy turned his head to look at her, and Rey bit the inside of her cheek to keep herself in check.  His whiskey colored eyes searched her hazel ones, and his sinful looking mouth quirked into a lopsided dimpled smile.  She returned his smile with one of her own, putting her hand out.  He took it gingerly, giving it a small shake.  His hand dwarfed hers, and Rey felt her cold hand pulling the heat from his warm one.

“Rey,” she murmured.

“Ben,” he replied.  He had a pleasant voice, one she wanted to never stop listening to.  Deep and comforting.

“What’s good here?” she asked, resuming a conversational tone.

Ben shrugged his shoulders.  “Just about everything.  And yeah, I did, to answer your earlier question.”

Rey hummed as she perused the menu.  She figured a place called Waffle House probably had good waffles.  Their waitress returned after a few minutes, placing a large plate laden with fried eggs, bacon, toast, and hashbrowns in front of Ben.

“Have you decided, Hun?” she asked Rey kindly.

“I think so.  Could I have one egg, over hard, some bacon, and a waffle?  Please?” Rey asked timidly.  She always felt shy ordering food, like the server would say “no” or something.

The waitress scribbled her order down in her notepad.  “Sure thing,” she said with a smile.

Rey watched in envy and fascination as Ben ate.  He put a bit of everything between the pieces of toast, eating most of what he could like a sandwich before just shoveling the rest into his mouth.

He wiped his face with his napkin before looking at her again.  “Sorry.  I’m usually not such a caveman, but I was stranded at my bank.  I haven’t eaten since the other night except for some packets of pretzels and peanuts.”

Rey gave him a reassuring smile and placed her hand gently on his arm.  He flexed his fingers, and Rey enjoyed feeling his muscles and tendons working beneath her palm.

“It’s okay.  I know how it can be,” she said softly.

Ben looked at her quizzically.

“Not having food.  Being hungry,” she clarified.  “I grew up not knowing where my next meal was coming from, so you know, I get it.  Don’t feel embarrassed, or whatever.”  She was no longer in that situation, but she remembered it all too well.

“Is that why you sound like a shy kid when you ordered food?  Because sometimes people you asked would tell you ‘no?’”

Rey blinked, surprised at his perception.

“I’m a counselor.  It’s my job to pick up on these things,” Ben said.  A look of worry flashed across his features and Rey smiled, wanting to let him know he hadn’t put her off.

“I guess, yeah, that’s why,” she answered with a laugh.

Rey’s breakfast came shortly after that, and Ben ordered another plate, although he ate it slower this time.  She looked over her shoulder at the booth where Unkar sat with his friends, and she smiled seeing that they’d decided to have an impromptu game of poker.

“Who’s that?” Ben asked around a mouthful of bacon and egg.

Rey returned her attention to her waffle, carefully spreading an unnecessary amount of butter and pouring syrup over the golden confection.  “My landlord,” she replied as she cut into it.  She closed her eyes and sighed deeply as she took the first bite, enjoying the interplay of flavor and texture.  “God, I love waffles.”

Ben laughed.  “You guys ignored the order too then, eh?”

Rey nodded and swallowed another large bite of waffle.  “He’s a stubborn old guy.  Insisted on coming over here as soon as we could.  Those are his poker buddies,” she mumbled jerking her head towards the booth.

“Looks like you’re gonna be here awhile,” Ben said casually as shouts of triumph and protest erupted from the booth.

Rey bumped his shoulder playfully.  “Want to keep me company?”

Ben bumped her back.  “You bet.”