Brunch at Lola's with Kieran was great. They had a relatively private corner, partially hidden by a collection of healthy vines that had taken over the surrounding area and were being directed across the ceiling by hooks. Jack was already working on his second screwdriver and a wonderful buzz that he was determined to maintain while ignoring the urge to go out and buy a plant for his apartment.

"So I've been thinking, and I have a caveat to our relationship." He frowned and squinted at his glass. He was pretty sure he was using the right word. He really shouldn't try to act smart with words. He moved his squint to Kieran, but there was no judgy edge to the amusement.

"Aside from bodily fluids being off limits?" Kieran asked.

Of course he would phrase it like that. Jack pretended his blush was from the drink. "Yeah. And don't act like I'm crazy or anything, 'cuz this is gonna sound really weird. Especially coming from me. So please don't point it out? But I want my friend, Candace, to give you a tarot reading."

Kieran looked away with a tight frown. "Are you sure that's wise?"

Jack snorted and held down a giggle. "No, I think it's bullshit, but she's a good judge of character. So I want her face-to-face opinion on you. "Cuz I'm way biased with your face. And I want her opinion without the distraction of shopping. She's been eyeing your store."

Running his eyes over the other patrons, Kieran sighed heavily. He looked back at Jack in reluctant misery. "Very well."

"Don't act like it's a death sentence," Jack whined, despite having similar feelings.

"Tarot readings and my sort can be," Kieran paused and sighed as his eyes flicked across the table, "difficult."

"You're not getting out of this." Jack huffed as he crossed his arms and slouched in his chair. "I gotta put up with it? You gotta put up with it. Welcome to the I-Hate-This Club."

Shaking his head, Kieran smiled softly. "Please don't misunderstand. The fewer who know of my kind's affliction, the better."

Jack rolled his eyes. Mass-produced cards weren't going to reveal Kieran's status as a member of the undead. "I'd be more worried about Sam having it out for your ass. He's kinda under the impression you're involved with the mob or something," he said as he reached for his screwdriver. He paused before taking a sip, meeting Kieran's confused stare. "Totally not my fault."

"I suppose handcuffs are a step up from a pitchfork," Kieran replied with a suggestive smirk.

"Don't say it like that. Reminder: Ain't gonna happen with me." Jack melted, and he gave a small smile as Kieran laughed.

Kieran moved from his chair to the one adjacent to Jack's right. "I know. I'm satisfied with emotional intimacy."

Jack licked his lips as he looked from Kieran to the rest of the restaurant and back. No one had batted an eye at Kieran switching seats. No one was staring. This was good and normal. Just a dumb couple out on a date.

"Yeah? Well, you're gonna have to be patient with that." Patience and understanding that only an immortal had the willingness to provide, Jack reminded himself. The only reason Farragut had faked his death was because his parole was at risk. Ten years was a drop in the bucket. He could see Kieran happily waiting around, and it only made his paranoia worse.

"I have time." Kieran's smile held no hint that he knew where Jack's thoughts had gone.

It wasn't as reassuring as Kieran had intended, and only darkened Jack's thoughts further. He had it backward: people staring would be a good thing. The more witnesses, the better. Jack swallowed back the bitterness, and did his best to push forward a positive attitude. Kieran wasn't Farragut. He was being patient out of kindness and understanding, not greed. At least, Jack hoped that was the case.

"Hey, uh… Thanks. For understanding. Or at least trying to," Jack said, unable to stop it from sounding stilted and forced. He looked at Kieran, hoping his grimace of a smile came off as apologetic.

Kieran leaned over and paused just shy of Jack's cheek.

Jack quickly glanced around the restaurant before closing the distance. He placed a firm kiss on Kieran's lips before pulling back, resisting the urge to deepen the kiss. He didn't need an audience for his awkward dating life. "I'm trying. This ain't easy for me," he quietly admitted.

"We can continue our break, if you wish."

"I like you," Jack said, shaking his head. "You got caught lying, and now you're overly honest. I kinda like that. Even if I don't like what I'm finding out." He stared at the table in silence. The flash of a slit throat lodged itself in his mind.

"I have a body count," he whispered.

"Of one," Kieran said. He lightly ran his hand up and down Jack's arm.

Jack swallowed as he collected his thoughts and met Kieran's eyes. He shifted his gaze to the side to stare at Kieran's ear. "I dunno, I freaked out and killed the mouse I found in my cupboard."

Kieran closed his eyes and slowly breathed in and out. "I would offer the services of an exterminator, but I fear you would turn it down."

"I'm lying," Jack said as he tugged at his sleeves, missing the comfort of being able to hide his hands. He wasn't sure what he would do if he did find a mouse in his apartment. "The worst I've seen is an ugly spider in the window sill. And a cockroach."

"Again—"

"I'm joking! Kinda. But you should see the look on your face." He smiled at being able to get a rise out of Kieran.

"Perhaps I'm the one who needs the break."

"Shallow."

"I never said I wasn't."

Jack wasn't sure if he should be insulted or flattered. Then again, he was shallow, too. That was going to be a conversation he had no interest in. If he just didn't think about it, then it could be avoided until the need for verbal vomit became too much.

He wished he could go back to seeing a therapist. Dumping everything in one sitting onto someone helped sort his thoughts out when the medications failed. He missed the guilt-free vent session of paying someone to listen.

"You know any therapists that are, uh, pointy? Or pointy-friendly?" he asked. Being able to discuss his insecurities without someone jumping to a diagnosis of crazy was something he needed.

"Is this a hint?" Kieran laughed softly as he shook his head. "If you know of a therapist who specializes in vampires, then do send them my way."

So there weren't any vampire therapists out there. Or, at least, none that Kieran knew of. They needed to keep up with the times and work on a social network. Even a little forum under the guise of roleplay would be better than nothing. He could slap something together, and Benoit could send out invitations. She seemed like she would be connected with the rest of the community. "I'll keep my eye open."

Mostly for himself, but he had a feeling a lot of vampires could use it, too. Maybe he could dump on Lindsey in the meantime.