Sunday, 1 May 1988, Montreal

[noteful]

Spring in Montreal is short, mild, less than terribly predictable, and welcomed with open arms. 1 May 1988 dawns slightly overcast, but the clouds burn off, and it hits a quite comfortable (by Montreal standards) 12°C.

No one really takes any notice of the three girls who cut across the McGill campus and spend a couple hours rambling around the park on Mont Royal. There's nothing all that remarkable about them . . . except, of course, that one of them is, on some version of Earth or another, being born 1800 miles away today, and one has metal claws in her hands and recovers from injuries almost before she receives them.

They stop for a quick lunch and then ride the Metro down to Old Montreal. They wander down cobblestoned streets and in and out of little shops, past churches and museums and the city hall.

When shadows start getting long and the temperature starts to drop, they turn down a side street.

"I know the best place for dinner," Meg says. "It was in one of those off-the-beaten-path guide books last year, so of course the path beats right to the door now, but I don't think we'll have any trouble getting a table."

There's a small crowd in and around the doorway, but Meg goes past them and waves to a tall man in a white chef's jacket. "Bon soir, Sylvain," she calls.

The man comes over, smiling. "Meg. Bon soir. Trois?"

"Oui, si tu--," Meg starts, but he cuts her off with a wave of his hand.

"Pour toi, bien sûr," he says, and lead them over to a comfortable table in the corner of the restaurant.

"Sylvain, these are my friends, Parker and Laura. They're visiting from the States and I couldn't let them leave without bringing them for the best food in Montréal. Parker, Laura, this Sylvain Gagné."

Sylvain bows slightly. "Bienvenue à Montréal, mesdemoiselles. I hope you will enjoy your visit, and your meal. Alice will be right with you."

"Merci, Sylvain," Meg says, and turns back to Parker and Laura. "Sometimes, it helps to be dating the owner's favorite nephew."

Comments

[noteful]

Meg nods. "At least once a week, lately," she says. "Usually with Alain.

"Everything I've ever had here is good, but Sylvain is especially known for his crêpes."

And as the menu indicates, that covers a lot of choices and they're not even close to all being sweet.

[parkerlee]

"Isn't it nice? When you have like a regular date night?"

When you're nearing the end of the semester, a carrot like that can be all that gets you through the week.

Parker scans the menu. "These all look so good. It's going to be hard to pick."

She looks up at Meg and X and smiles.

"Thank you guys, again. This has been a great day."

[cutting_edgex23]

"It is your birthday," X says, very solemnly. And to her -- that really is the part that matters.

"And it is good to visit other places."

Especially when you do not have to fight anyone. It is an interesting change.

"Especially when there are no dragons. Or aliens."

Sweet is right out -- but crepes are possible. Likely, even.

Simple is good, too.

[noteful]

"Not only your birthday but your birth day," says Meg, with an emphasis on the space. "Like, literally. Which, thankfully, is completely free of dragons.

"And I don't know if it makes it easier or harder to pick if I tell you that all the choices are good.

"It makes for a very nice break, coming here, from university food."

[parkerlee]

"Which is just all kinds of wild. In a good way," Parker says. "I wonder if my mother is in labor even as we speak?"

How's that for a freaky thought? Though Parker doesn't recall exactly what time of day she was born. And then there's a time difference to take into consideration.

"And yes. One dragon incident--" Parker breaks off, glancing a bit guiltily around at the nearby tables. She lowers her voice slightly. "One dragon incident is enough for one semester."

Even if it had ended on a good note.

[cutting_edgex23]

X's gaze flicks from the menu to Meg, then Parker, and she tilts her head very slightly.

"But your world does not have dragons. It is okay."

X goes through the menu a second time, then closes it and sets it on the table in front of her. It was not that difficult a choice to make.

"I have not seen any in the bar, either. I do not know if they fit."

[noteful]

Meg has already decided that pretty much anything bizarre that gets discussed can be be explained away with a slight shake of her head, and a what-can-you-do shrug of her shoulders and the single word Américaines. So she's not too worried about the dragon talk.

"I haven't either, and, while I'm sure Norman was very nice, I'm not really bothered by their absence."

Meg closes her menu, too.

It's not like she doesn't already know what it says.

[parkerlee]

"You realize that this means it's only a matter of time now before we see a dragon in the bar."

The laws of the Universe just seem to work in that vaguely snarky way.

Parker wavers between two likely looking choices, then nods her head and closes her own menu.

"It would probably scare the poor waitrats to death."

[cutting_edgex23]

"I do not know," X says, frowning.

"They live in Milliways. And people would not let a dragon eat them."

Beat.

"The rats."

Well, the people, too. But that was not the topic under discussion.

[noteful]

"They're probably safe enough," Meg agrees.

Especially since the dragons in question are, at the moment, purely theoretical.

And on the subject of waitstaff, the expected Alice arrives, and for a moment, everyone is occupied with the activity of ordering dinner.

[parkerlee]

Parker takes a sip of her water.

"It may just be me, and the fact that I spend so much time you-know-where, but it's almost strange to see a human server."

"Is Alice a relative of Alain's too?"

[cutting_edgex23]

X looks faintly startled, studying Parker for a minute.

Carefully.

"You do not eat at restaurants. At home?"

X frequents a diner. For breakfast.

And sometimes dinner.

[noteful]

"I think she might be a friend of the family, but, no, she's not a relative. I don't think," Meg says.

"Maybe it's just because you're with people you usually see there?" Meg offers.

Because, yeah, she's a little surprised, too.

[parkerlee]

"Oh, I do," Parker says. "But not as much as I eat in the dining hall at school."

When she does eat out, just given her student budget, it's usually not at a sit-down-and-be-served place. Even with Seth, they're more inclined to pick up food and go somewhere quiet and quasi-secluded. The park or the quad or the beach.

"Truth is, I probably 'eat out' more at Milliways than I do at home."

"But I'm sure the company is probably part of it," she adds with a grin.

"I just need to remember to look up when someone asks for my order."

[cutting_edgex23]

"People do not always make eye contact," X offers.

She may be trying to be reassuring.

Stranger things have happened.

[parkerlee]

"True. But I'd probably look weird staring at peoples' knees."

"But I guess any strangeness here can be chalked up to me being from south of the border, huh?"

[cutting_edgex23]

"Logan is Canadian," X says, after a moment.

"Wolverine."

You know. Just so they know.

(He is strange, too. But in different ways.)

[noteful]

Meg's grateful for the clarification. The other Logan they all know is a lot of things, but Canadian isn't one of them.

Meg grins. "He's lucky, then."

And, to Parker, "That's my plan, if I need to explain your being strange to anyone."

[parkerlee]

It's true. Logan Echolls probably wouldn't know an 'eh' if it crawled up his pants leg and bit him.

Parker smiles, and primly straightens in her seat.

"I don't know what you could be worried about. Strange? Moi?"

[cutting_edgex23]

X considers this.

"You could say I was raised very far north."

Beat.

"That would be true."

She does not want to make Meg lie if she doesn't have to.

And there is only so much of X's strangeness that can be hidden, anyway. Unless it is a mission.

But if she were someone else, she would so be giving Parker a Look.

[noteful]

Meg nods. "I'll keep that in mind," she tells Laura.

Just in case.

"I'm really glad you were both able to come today."

[parkerlee]

"I'm really glad you invited me," Parker replies.

"This is, by far, the most unique birthday present I've ever been given."

[cutting_edgex23]

"Meg is good at birthday presents."

X sounds fairly sure about this.

"And I like Montreal."

Well, she likes it when she's in Meg and Parker's company, anyway.

[noteful]

"Thank you," she says.

Being good at presents requires either a certain flair for the creative, or a great deal of thought. Meg simply doesn't have the former, but she's very good at the latter.

"I like Montreal, too."

More than she expected to, when she decided to come here, really.

Meg is sitting with her back to the room, so she doesn't see the dark-haired young man who comes in, laughing, from the kitchen. The leather jacket he's wearing doesn't exactly make him look like he works here.

He looks around, grins, and heads over to the girls' table.

[cutting_edgex23]

There's a moment where X stiffens, imperceptible save with close observation. She keeps her gaze deliberately focused on the room at large, but she is paying very close attention to the man in the leather jacket.

Even after she catches his scent -- and gets a good look at his face.

It is better to be careful. And maybe Meg does not like surprises.