Saitoh didn’t have the luxury of closing his eyes. Not here, not yet. He did however have some battery acid posing as ten hour old coffee that helped take the edge off his weariness. There was the other edge, the razor sharp one that nothing except time, patience and the firm abidance of a promise made to an old friend could ever hope to dull.
Determined not to think about friends who were gone and personal demons that never would be, he resolutely drained his cup and forced himself to think of other things, of the here and the now, where he actually could be of use and perhaps even sway what at times seemed an inevitable slide into anarchy.
Speaking of anarchy….
Saitoh realized that he needed to call his sister and arrange a time to pick up the boys. They’d been with her for four days and it was high time to go pick them up. He made a mental note to call Katsu when he was someplace secure and see when she wanted him to stop by.
Saitoh nodded when “KEN” explained where his preferred source of all things java might be. Saitoh appreciated stability and was pleased to think that he wouldn’t have to go looking for another diner to menace. While a good cup of Joe was hard to come by, decent human being were damn near impossible to keep around.
Speaking of decency…
Saitoh returned the woman’s courtesy; a facial gesture that he suspected might actually be sincere, with a measure of his own. He didn’t do anything as ridiculous as smile (as his smiles generally caused the recipient to be very ill at ease since it usually meant they were about to have their ass terminally handed to them) but nodded at the woman respectfully, meeting her gaze directly for a moment as he tried to recall some other place that he’d seen her.
The moment passed when another patron came into the diner. Saitoh glanced over at the newest customer, then over to “KEN” who was carefully serving tea, and was still smiling, and then back to the woman, before his police tablet silently vibrated, indicating that several files transfers had been initiated.
(Here comes the damn paperwork…) Saitoh ground his teeth together, wishing that smoking was still allowed in restaurants. He loved his job, as dearly as he loved anything in the world but there were times (and this was one of those times) when he seriously wished that he lived in a simpler age, when any report he laid a finger on wasn’t cross referenced, id checked and quad encrypted before it could be refilled with the data management teams at the precinct.
no subject
Determined not to think about friends who were gone and personal demons that never would be, he resolutely drained his cup and forced himself to think of other things, of the here and the now, where he actually could be of use and perhaps even sway what at times seemed an inevitable slide into anarchy.
Speaking of anarchy….
Saitoh realized that he needed to call his sister and arrange a time to pick up the boys. They’d been with her for four days and it was high time to go pick them up. He made a mental note to call Katsu when he was someplace secure and see when she wanted him to stop by.
Saitoh nodded when “KEN” explained where his preferred source of all things java might be. Saitoh appreciated stability and was pleased to think that he wouldn’t have to go looking for another diner to menace. While a good cup of Joe was hard to come by, decent human being were damn near impossible to keep around.
Speaking of decency…
Saitoh returned the woman’s courtesy; a facial gesture that he suspected might actually be sincere, with a measure of his own. He didn’t do anything as ridiculous as smile (as his smiles generally caused the recipient to be very ill at ease since it usually meant they were about to have their ass terminally handed to them) but nodded at the woman respectfully, meeting her gaze directly for a moment as he tried to recall some other place that he’d seen her.
The moment passed when another patron came into the diner. Saitoh glanced over at the newest customer, then over to “KEN” who was carefully serving tea, and was still smiling, and then back to the woman, before his police tablet silently vibrated, indicating that several files transfers had been initiated.
(Here comes the damn paperwork…) Saitoh ground his teeth together, wishing that smoking was still allowed in restaurants. He loved his job, as dearly as he loved anything in the world but there were times (and this was one of those times) when he seriously wished that he lived in a simpler age, when any report he laid a finger on wasn’t cross referenced, id checked and quad encrypted before it could be refilled with the data management teams at the precinct.