Leave It To Heaven Season 1

Episode 2: Secrets and Snipers Part 2

Secrets and Snipers

Part 2

By TalosLives & CrackedInkWell

Edited by Anon

Based on EMositeCC's AngelAUSeries

***

"So, have you decided what you'd like?" the waitress asked.

"I guess." Octavia glanced at the menu again. "Is the eggplant parmigiana good?"

"Oh yeah, everything's amazing here." She jotted it down on a notepad. "That comes with a soup or salad as a side, so you're given a choice of spinach gnocchi soup or a Caesar salad."

"Um... the soup?"

"Excellent choice." She turned to Stolas. "And you, sir?"

Stolas hummed. In one hand was a glass of a strawberry spiked lemonade with a straw sticking out, and in the other was the menu. "I'll have the house special, if you don't mind."

"The Ossobuco?"

"That's the one. Does that come with risotto alla milanese, or polenta?"

"Ours come with a side of risotto."

"Excellent." Stolas gathered up the menus to hand them back to the waitress.

Once the waitress told them they'd have their meals soon and left, Stolas looked over the restaurant. Even though he hadn't been here in years, it didn't change all that much except that it didn't smell of cigarette smoke. Sitting near a corner by the windows that looked out to the street, there was a quaint feel to the bustling, talkative restaurant of wooden, uniformed chairs that stood dutifully by tables clothed in gold and white. The walls' lower half was lined in red maple, and the upper half consisted of a burgundy yellow colored wallpaper that hung oil paintings and old family photographs with postcards of the Italian countryside. Above them, the ample space was lit with black cast-iron chandeliers of various kinds. Staff in white went to and fro from tables of the talkative New Yorkers that were deep in their little conversations or the food being served to them.

Among the noise, the random chatter, the muffled speakers playing Dean Martin songs, and the clinking of plates, Stolas had realized something after a sip of his lemonade. Across from him, Octavia had gone quiet. Her attention gazed out to the windows and the passersby on the street. A look of melancholy painted over his daughter's disguised face.

"Um..." Stolas cleared his throat, getting her attention. "Are you enjoying our day trip so far?"

" Huh? Oh yeah, I am." Octavia nodded, having snapped out of a daydream. "Sorry, my head was elsewhere. But yeah, I think I needed this. Still," she glanced out the window, but briefly this time, "it's a pleasant surprise. I had no idea what to expect from this place. Being among people who aren't dead yet, and how mindbogglingly diverse they are."

"Diverse. Yes, that is a perfect word," Stolas agreed. "Every place on this planet has a different feel. Each country... Well, think of it like rings where each place has its own identity, culture, history, rules, etc. And the people there come in all sorts, some are better than others, but going to cities, towns, even homes is like getting a box of chocolate - you'll never know what you're going to get."

"I can see that." Octavia nodded. "Makes me wonder what other places in the world are like."

"It depends. Some pride in sophistication like here or in London, Paris, Tokyo, or Sydney. And that's just from cities. Others... well... you should outright avoid it for various reasons."