Chapter Text
Idle chatter fills the restaurant while late noon sunlight shines through the windows. A woman behind the register yells to the cook behind the kitchen window.
Charlie looks around at the barely occupied space trying to drown out their bandmates' idle squabbling. They love them but sometimes after waking up from a hangover the last thing you want to hear is rowdy voices assaulting your ears.
"Ain't that right Charlie?"
Charlie turns their sunglasses-covered eyes to look at Gilly. They definitely didn't hear a word the woman had said so it was time to fake it till they make it, whatever the hell that means in this context.
"Yep, exactly." Charlie replies hoping it was a suitable answer.
When they hear snickers from the rest of the band and Ian saying "I told you they weren't listening." They knew it wasn't.
"Oh will you lot come off it, you all try to function with a killer hangover!" Charlie shoots back defensively.
"We are, love." Declan replies in a cheeky manner.
And it reminds Charlie that oh yeah they were the ones out partying with them last night. But it's still not fair, they've all had a longer time to deal with their human alcohol tolerance. They never used to get hungover until they lost their powers. So Charlie simply shrugs back in reply.
“We were trying to figure out this whole tour thing. We got plenty of nightclub offers from Northern Ireland, Scotland, Wales and back.” Gilly repeats herself.
Charlie can hear themselves sigh and shoulders sag with the weight of exhaustion suddenly resting on them.
They didn't hate touring but the plain fact was that it was hard. Long nights, barely sleeping then hitting the road again. It was fine when they were an immortal god that partook in the basic necessities of eating and sleeping for fun, now they're mortal and almost ten years older.
Not that they weren't grateful to even still have offers to play places considering punk rock's popularity had been on a slow decline as glam pushed it out of its place.
“We'll figure all that out soon enough.”
“You've been saying that for over a month now.” Ian points out.
And he was right, again. Another common pattern they're growing tired of.
“Soon.” Charlie repeats unhelpfully.
The others look like they want to argue, but decide better against it. Knowing how to deal with them when they're in a mood like this.
They turn to talk amongst themselves again. Declan going into some exaggerated retelling of some crazy event he had up by Cambridge. Gilly rolling her eyes in exasperation. While Ian looks on in fondness that he would deny heavily if anyone pointed it out.
They were cute together. Sweet even. Almost too sweet that it made Charlie's heart ache, not in a jealous way but in a way that could almost be considered longing. Longing for what? They could not tell.
Ian and Declan had only recently just become monogamous even though they had been hooking up for years. But they had lost a lot of friends and hook up partners in the last decade to some new disease. And instead of the government stepping up to do anything they blamed it on lack of godly values and god punishing sinners. Maybe too many funerals had made them realize they wanted something new for their relationship.
Charlie glances around the restaurant. It was never packed but it used to be more lively than this, but most of the customers were the ones in the caskets at those funerals.
Their eyes fall on Edith. The cashier and the owner. Smile wide as she took an order and shouted it to the cook in the back. Charlie wondered if this place was still hemorrhaging money, It definitely was. Next time they would force the woman to accept the money they were always offering her. But that woman was stubborn and strong willed.
Though those traits also probably helped her survive. Being openly trans was never easy.
Charlie suddenly stands bones popping at the quick movement. Questioning eyes from their band turn to them
“Smoke break.”
Is all Charlie says before turning and leaving out the door.
-
Heels clack along the pavement, taking their owner at a moderate pace. Arms filled with shopping bags. Zari sighs as she glances around trying to figure out exactly where she ended up. She must've done something wrong when she punched in the date on the time courier. Because instead of seeing the Eiffel Tower in twenty-fifteen she's seeing some oh so retro outfits, letting her know she wasn't even in the 21st century.
Not that the context clues were that useful for figuring out where she was. Nor were the people in the street passing her, either too busy or too rude to stop when she asked them a question. Though if the old crotchety man's accent that had yelled at her before she could pick up a newspaper from his stand was to go by, she was in England.
So she wasn't that far off geography wise but she doesn't want to pat herself on the back just yet because she doesn't know how far she was off time wise.
She shifts her arms as the string on her bags dig into them, leaving marks. She had already been to New York in the early twenty-thirties. Milan in the early two-thousands. Draining her wallet and gaining clothes in her wardrobe. Fashion was an ever looping cycle so even the most out of date stuff would be back in style eventually.
Though not that any of this shopping was helping much.
-
The air outside is cool against their skin as they step onto the sidewalk. Darkly painted nails reach inside their coat and pull out a tin and a lighter. Producing a zoot and placing it in their mouth. The cheap lighter struggles to even spark as Charlie turns it.
After a few times of rough skin meeting plastic, it finally ignites. Lighting the joint ,sighing as it fills their lungs.
Glancing around idly as they take in the tail end of rush hour.
-
Zari bites back a groan as her feet start to ache. The back of her shoes started to dig into her tendon, now she knows why they call it the Achilles heel. Maybe it was time to call off this part of the shopping vacation for now and head back.
The weight of the time courier on her wrist and the magical key in one of her bags reminds her of her options. Now she just had to find a secluded area to make her decision. Thankfully the bustling crowd was starting to thin out.
After zigzagging through more people and turning a few more corners she figures she'll finally be able to turn into an alleyway or something soon. The next turn up head looks the most promising.
With new found exuberance and tiredness fueling her speed, she books a right around a corner. Expecting to be met with an open sidewalk, only to smack into something solid.
The surprise of the collision is enough to knock her off balance. Bags tipping her over like a buoy in the water as she careens backwards. Ass hitting the ground first and bags following after. Anger flushes into her face at the same time the pain on her body does. And to make it worse whatever she bumped into has a voice.
“Oi, watch where you're bloody goin-”
Zari can't even focus on the voice as the annoyance from the rude people, pain in her body and the embarrassment from falling bubbles over, leaving her mouth.
“Says the idiot standing directly on the corner! Though with those tacky shoes, i'm surprised you didn't blind me first!” Zari insults, reaching a shrill tone as she glances at the person's worn boots.
She figured she'd successfully chewed them out when she doesn't get a response. She starts trying to pick up a few of her clothes that had scattered out of the bag when she fell, along with her pride.
“Zee?”
Zari whips her head up at the jackass stranger somehow knowing her name only to be greeted by an old familiar face, pulling up their sunglasses to get a better look at her.
“Charlie?”