"Ah, it was but a simple assumption.."

Alec had previously been at Redway Park, and was there to enjoy the weather. Now, he was coming from the park to the coffee shop, and seemed to be enjoying a little more than just the weather. Maybe it was because he had a beautiful woman perhaps too close by his side... perhaps that was just how he always was. (But I can bet you it was the beautiful woman part.)

A little grin lit his face, as he stopped his walking.

"Surprise." And they're in the Half Baked Bean. Which is expensive.

Does he get a point in his favor, now?

Yes, he gets a point in his favor now. But only one.

"Very nice, poet." I think Alec has a new name. He's going to be the poet until Jetta tires of him. (Which, knowing her, probably won't be all that long. She has a short attention span.)

"It starts with a J."

She's going to give it to him in bits and pieces, apparently.

Such a fun game.

Well, one is better than none, right?

Alec could get used to being called poet, fortunately. Unless he ever feels like being called by his real name, he won't give it, either... unless she asks, of course.

"J... Jessica?" He knew a lot of girls with that name.

Yes, Alec knows a lot of girls.

"Nope."

She surveyed the Bean with a proprietary eye--and she doesn't even own the place; imagine the expression of possession that would be on her face if she were looking at her house--and glanced at Alec.

"So, where are we going to sit, and what are you going to buy me, poet?"

Smile, smile.

Guess again, poet.

Damn. Strike one.

"Jocelyn?"

Alec didn't even notice the way she looked at the shop... he was too busy paying attention to what was in front of him, for the moment.

"Depends. What do you want, and where you do you want to sit?"

He's giving her a choice.

"Try again."

She scanned the room again, and gestured languidly to a cozy little table in a corner.

"I want to sit there, and I want a venti decaf nonfat extra-hot no foam with whipped cream three-pump vanilla latte."

Let's see if he can remember that, eh? Because she's not going to repeat it; this is a test of sorts.

And it's pass-fail.

"Janine?"

Pass-fail test? Is it a good thing that Alec is both an audio learner, and used to work in a coffee shop? Yes, but at the same time, a huge, resounding no.

"All right, sounds good t' me.. I'll take care of it, and you can go sit down, all right?"

"Sounds good. And no, it's not Janine."

There are a lot of female names that start with J, aren't there.

She glided across the room--if she were annoyed, she would be flouncing, and if she were not with anyone in particular, she would be strutting--and took a seat at the table she'd selected as a queen on a throne.

Smile.

Get the order right, poet.

There are. Alec could be guessing at her name all day... or all week, if her attention span even lasted that long.

He turned on the heel of his boot, and walked (with particular confidence in that walk, mind you. Not so much as Jetta's 'I know I'm hot' confidence, but just confidence in general) to the counter, with a smile.

In another minute or so, Alec returned with Jetta's concoction of a coffe just as she had ordered it, and hiw own, fairly simple one. (And not to mention a rather large dent in his 'pocket' change'. This coffee wasn't cheap, you know.)

"That right?" He asked, as he set it down on the table in front of her, and took a seat on the other end of the table.

A sip. A smile.

"Well done, poet. The second letter is E."

Well, that narrows it down to about a thousand names.

(No, her attention span didn't last that long. She would be tired of the game before the week was up, and give him her full name eventually. Probably before they parted ways today, even.)

Well, for around five dollars, he got the second letter of her name. That was good, right?

"Jennifer, then?"

He doesn't sip his coffe yet. Rather, stares at it, for a moment.

"Jessica? Jenevive?"

"No, no, and no."

She was enjoying this game; it was fun to toy with him.

Another sip. She drew abstract designs on the tabletop with one of her (absurdly long) nails, lacquered and manicured and basically cared for as much as the rest of her appearance.

She spends about an hour getting dressed in the morning, you know.

I imagine she would have to. How does she do anything with nails that long, anyway?

"Jenelle?"

He looked at her now, and then back at his coffee. Hw pondered if he should take a sip. But it was hot, so it might burn his tongue... and he didn't want that to happen.

Very carefully.

(Actually, once one is used to the length, it becomes strange having short nails again, if such a thing happens. One gets used to compensating, you see.)

"Guess again, poet."

Can that smile actually get any wider?

Well, Alec has never had long nails, and doesn't want to, so he'll never know the feeling.

"Jenny? Jeannie? Jenessa? Jekaterina? Jedidah?"

And he takes a sip of his coffee.

"None of the above."

A small yawn, which she pretends to hide behind her coffee cup--of course she's not really hiding it; this is her way of letting him know that she's growing a bit bored with the farce.

Jetta, honey. Maybe she should give him another letter.

The games palling a bit, now.

To Alec's advantage (this time), he was telepathic. This made the guessing game so much easier...

"...Jetta?" Of course he knows he's right, but he says it in a questioning tone, the same as the rest of the names, anyway.

"Now tell me yours."

That means, 'Yes, my name is Jetta. Very good guessing, by the way. I'm impressed.'

That's also another point in his favor; she likes it when her games work. (And she's pleased that he was so accomodating and guessed right, just when she was growing tired of the game.)

So now he has two points in his favor.

"My name's Poet, nice to meet you." Well, that wasn't the greatest idea in the world.

Sip.

"Seriously, it's Alec." he gave a lttle smile.

"So, Jetta, what do you do? I mean, besides look pretty."

Point off for the bad joke, point on for the compliment. Nice save, Alec. You haven't lost anything too terrible, yet.

"Isn't that enough, Alec honey?"

She uses lots of pet names for guys; none for girls. That probably says something deep and psychological about her, but we needn't get into it just yet.

She is, actually, a second-semester junior at Keaton, preparing to graduate next spring with a BFA in music. (Which she will promptly put to waste attempting to make a name for herself in the cutthroat world of music politics.)

Well, isn't that interesting. He's saying things and doesn't know that points are being added and subtracted. And, you see, Alec was never really that great at math... but he did know that when he owned something, and it was being subtracted from him, that was generally a bad thing. But he didn't know.

"In most cases, no. But I'll let you off this time."

Goes to show, Alec doesn't like woman who are pretty and nothing else. He goes for pretty, intelligent, funny, good in be--- it stopped there.

Eyes narrow. The smile becomes edged. Let her off, hm? How... generous... of him.

That cost him a point.

"Well, poet" The nickname is a reminder that he's the one who's supposed to entertain her, thank you very much. "I happen to be a junior at Keaton."

So there, scrawny kid with a cute face. (She can always find someone else to take her out for coffee.)

"Wow, really? That's an accomplishment." He gives a charming smile. He doesn't know that she's still subtracting points. That could hurt his chances of bringing her to dinner, or even getting her number, hm?

"What are you studying for?"

Actually, he'll end up with her number, probably, no matter how many points he loses. An adoring fan is an adoring fan, after all, and she likes to have a lot of them. But taking her out to dinner's looking rather remote now.

Poor Alec.

"BFA in music."

And now it's his turn.

"What do you do, poet?"

Back to poet again. Hm, that's never good. At least, Alec doesn't think that is, anyway...

Poor Jetta will probably end up with a million messages on her phone.. and they'll probably all be deleted, too.

"I'm studying in Keaton... for art."

Nevermind he's been playing guitar since he was a little boy, too.

Oh, she might answer one or two. Depending on her mood and the state of affairs with the rest of her hangers on.

"Nice." Art.

And her mind flickers back to the posing nude idea.

Of course.

She probably has a lot of other hangers on. But poor Alec doesn't know that yet. Yet.

Nice. Just nice? Is that good or bad?

This isn't going as smoothly (in Alec's opinion) as it was before.

"But, of course, that's just what I'm studying for." Which meant, of course, he did other things. He gave a gentle shrug.

Well, she wasn't slightly annoyed with him before. Of course it isn't going as smoothly. Jetta doesn't let things go smoothly when she's annoyed.

"And what else do you do, then?"

'Impress me,' says the subtext.

She does a lot of that, you notice? Saying one thing, which means rather a lot more than just the surface.

She likes it that way.

Unfortuantely, again, Alec isn't any good at all at impressing people. Especially girls. So this is the part where he fails, miserably.

"I play the guitar..." he trailed off, trying to colelct himself again. "Have been for a long while. And I write poetry."

He gave a weak smile. "Nothing too impressive, unfortunately."

She is not impressed.

"Uh huh."

Poor Alec. He's stuck as coffee-buyer for the rest of their acquaintance, it seems.

And now she was bored.

There was glancing at the expensive and pretty watch on her wrist. There was smiling. There was scrawling a few numbers on a napkin. There was, "Sorry, honey, but I've got class."

Then there wasn't Jetta.