witness || h.s.|| ON HOLD

five || dine & dash

Harry

      After much urging from Abel, I allowed him to play back security footage of the restaurant from the past two weeks, in order to confirm that the girl who had my knife did in fact work there. The footage confirmed that she did work there, as she was seen entering and exiting each day. That, or she was just very fond of the restaurant, but I was going with the first option.

   I decided not to tell Whit about my plan to retrieve my knife, or that I had even lost it in the first place. He was so ecstatic about how well we succeeded in our mission, that I didn't really feel like putting a damper on his mood. He came into the Fort earlier than he had in weeks this morning, telling us all that Grayson had called him, and wanted to set up a time to meet, in order to cement the alliance between us and them. 

     He said that Grayson was beyond thankful that we had saved James' life, and because of our heroic act, he was more than eager to form an alliance with us. So while that mission had been a complete success, I still had a mission of my own to complete. Retrieving my knife. 

    I figured it would be best for me to go to the restaurant later in the night, after the typical Friday night rush. Despite all of the boys' protests, I was going to do this alone. I didn't want to draw anymore attention to myself than necessary, and I am pretty damn sure Whit would be suspicious if all of his top team members were out on a mission that he knew nothing about.

   I stood in front of the full-length mirror across from my bed. Adjusting my black tie. I decided to wear an all-black suit, down to the black dress shirt I had tucked into my pants. I ran my fingers through my hair once more, and glanced down at my watch. 8:40. 

  The restaurant wasn't nearly as far from my place as it was from the Fort, about a twenty-minute drive or so. My reservation was for 9:15, which is much later than I ever like to eat, but again, I didn't want to go when it was too crowded. 

   I went downstairs and grabbed my keys and my wallet, checking around to see if I forgot anything when I spotted my handgun. Without at least my knife on me, I felt a little naked. I always liked to be prepared, no matter where I was going. So, going with my gut, I grabbed it and slipped it inside my coat pocket, just in case. 

   I gave the room one final glance over, before heading out the door to drive to the restaurant.  

***********

 Tate

   Words could not begin to describe how thankful I was to be wearing flats tonight. My feet still ached from wearing my heels yesterday, as well as my knee from where it collided with the pavement. I woke up to a small bruise forming on my knee cap, and so I decided to wear a pair of faux leather skinny jeans, with a black turtleneck sweater, and my black boots. I was glad that I had worn a sweater, as each time a guest opened the door, a gust of chilly night air blew in and caused me to shudder a bit. 

    I wasn't as tired as I was yesterday, Fridays were my favorite workdays, because I didn't have to come in until four, meaning that I got to get some extra sleep. Those few extra hours did wonders and made me dread the night shift far less than I normally do. 

   One of the servers, Michael, came up to the front desk and handed me a stack of menus that he had just collected from the group at table seven. "Here ya go!" he smiled cheerfully, beginning to walk off, but not before I grabbed his arm.

   He looked confused but I just laughed and pulled him next to me, fixing his nametag that was put on upside down, and patted his chest. "And there you go!" I chirped. He slapped his forehead and groaned.