Two drinks in, and Jack was able to get over his initial surprise of the dive bar Kieran brought him to and begin to relax. Once his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, he found it meticulously clean with matching booths, tables, and chairs. A far cry from the last dive bar he'd been in. The clientele ranged from rugged construction workers gathered in a booth to a scraggly twenty-something taking pictures of his food to a high end business woman silently crying into her beer at the bar.

It was also with those two drinks and his current buzz that Jack could open his mouth without feeling immediate regret. And he was still hung up on finding out that Kieran saged the antique shop.

"Okay, seriously. How can you just believe in ghosts? There's no proof," he said as he investigated his burger for any surprise ingredients. He peeled off a pickle before replacing the bun.

Kieran raised his eyes from his own food and smiled. "I've seen some things that make me more inclined to believe that some people…linger."

"I don't think I'd wanna stick around or even have another go," Jack said with a slight frown.

"Not even to have new experiences? To witness the progression humans make?"

"Well, I mean…" Jack stared at his plate as he thought about the recent advances in technology. "I guess that'd be kinda cool. I remember the switch from VHS to DVD. And going from dial-up to high speed internet. Yeah, I guess I can see sticking around to find out what's next. But the haunting thing? Like scaring people just to be a jerk? That's not my speed. Just let people live their lives."

"I think that's more of a misunderstanding, my sweet," Kieran said with a slight smile.

Jack squirmed at the endearment. It came off as more personal than honey or sweetheart. Was he supposed to come up with one, too? Stranger Danger seemed like a nice option. Maybe he could get away with Spooky? Spooky Pooky? He should just stick with normal names and avoid getting overly attached. Maybe Kiki.

"Talk to a lot of ghosts on your ouija board?" he asked as he dipped a fry in mustard. He was going to have to remember this place.

"Not exactly," Kieran replied, laughing softly. "It's been my experience that people tend to cast judgement first before opening a line of communication. Humans are rarely welcoming to those they perceive as different."

"Can't see that happening to you. You got your looks, your cute accent…" Jack waved his hand at Kieran, hoping to distract from his burning cheeks. "I'm not flirting. It's just true. People like that. They don't like, uh, different. Take the schizo that comes into the library. Harmless, but super off-putting. Especially when he wanders into the stacks. Scared the shit outta me the first few times it happened."

"True, having your differences not be as noticeable is an advantage." Kieran sighed, leaning back. "Being up front or waiting… It's never an easy decision, is it? I've had a few falling outs over how different I am. Sometimes it's simply easier to not say anything at all and hope for the best. Although, that can end poorly, as well."

Jack glanced up then away from Kieran's sad stare. Was Kieran about to divulge something? Or was he just fishing? "Like coming out of the closet kinda stuff? Or weird kinky stuff?"

"I've experimented, but no. Nothing like that. I suppose it would align with coming out of the closet."

"Oh. That sucks," Jack said. Was it just him, or did Kieran's smile widen? "Makes dating kinda hard, huh?" He should say something about his own preferences, but he was having a good time.

"It has more to do with upbringing and lineage. Although, my lack of concern over my partner's gender has sometimes made others wary," Kieran admitted.

"Oh, that whole, uh, 'must be greedy' assumption, huh? I kinda get a not-exactly-similar reaction, but uh…"

The jukebox switched tracks, and Jack frowned in confusion as classic rock was replaced by something played on a pianoforte. He looked over to find the woman from the bar leaning on the jukebox, silently sobbing and stroking the polished wood.

"Okay, then."

"Just ignore her," Kieran said quietly into his drink.

Jack turned back around and poked at his fries. "I've seen worse. Been worse. It's just the weird taste in music. Maybe she got dumped by some opera singer," he said with a shrug. He reached for his drink, but Kieran's hand held the glass in place. "I'm not drunk, I'm buzzed."

"And as lovely and open as you're being, I'd prefer you to pace yourself and simply maintain the buzz."

Jack shifted his gaze from Kieran's ear to his eyes. No judgement, just a patient smile. "I guess that's a good compromise," he said before taking a steadying breath.

Hands slammed on the table, and Jack jumped, grabbing his fork and holding it defensively in front of himself. He stared up at the woman from the bar and leaned away as she stared him down.

"Benoit," Kieran said evenly, drawing her attention. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"He reminds me of Harold," she said before focusing her sharp gaze back on Jack. "You remind me of Harold. My late husband. Committed to each other until death do us part. He died. I thought he loved me, but he died. And now we've parted. Never to see each other again."

"This is not the place, nor the company, to mourn your husband."

"Oh, shut up. What would you know? I got your message. Everyone got your message. And now I see you here with this pretty little thing. Interesting choice. Settling in properly, are you?" She leaned closer to Jack and lowered her voice. "You should run, child. Run as far as you can and never look back. You can do so much better than the likes of him. Just a little cologne would be enough to put the monsters off your scent. You don't need him."

"Colette." Kieran's voice came sharper, and Jack shrank further into his seat.

"Tch. I'm leaving. But if I find you've snuffed this flame, I will descend upon you like the eagle on Prometheus. Every day will be agony, and you will regret your life."

"I left another message for our collective. Perhaps you'll find it more pleasing to your tastes," said Kieran.

Benoit gave Jack a fleeting glance before pushing off the table. "That was you. Interesting."

Jack shook as he made himself set his fork back on the table, thankful that Kieran's attention was solely focused on the woman's back as she left the bar.

"Uh… Okay. I've never been that far gone," he said with a forced smile. "Friend of yours? Jilted lover?"

"We run in the same circles."

"Antiques?"

"Exactly."

There was something about the amusement lacing Kieran's voice that had Jack wishing he knew what the real answer was. Was one of them actually a fence? Was he potentially dating a criminal? Again? "Right."