Miss Secretary... has a life?

Nestled within a cocoon in the back of the small cafe, Elizabeth Laine was absorbed in a book as she sipped at a creamy cup of coffee. Honestly it was more cream than coffee, but everyone had their coffee different. The owner took time to wait tables on the quiet Thursday afternoon, but aside from her and Liz, the cafe was mostly empty. She was enjoying the partial quiet as the young waitress hummed along to the softly playing radio, the light of the sun shifting in through the window, and the words on the page of her book. For while she sat like that, the light moving across the floor, until finally the bell rang, signifying another costumer. Liz peered up with amber eyes under white-blonde bangs, the new visitor stirring her from a daze.

He honestly hadn't dropped in for anything else than a quick cup of coffee to take back with him to the school; however, there seemed to be a change in plans. There didn't seemed to be much on his mind, other than a look of distasteful weariness that didn't seem too far out of the norm - that is, until he saw her. The teacher suddenly froze uneasily, his copper eyes looking at Miss Secretary with faint curiosity. It took a few moments, but he muttered something to the waitress, loosened himself up and walked slowly over to her table. "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Barret called, one side of his lips curled up crookedly in a smile.

She watched silently as Barret Spion, the new Gift Mastery teacher, moved over towards her. She lifted her head up slightly, straightening out her relaxed position into something more businesslike, her back straight and her petite hands resting in her lap. Aside from a slight blush rising to her cheeks and a polite smile, she paid no heed to his comment. "Good evening Mr. Spion." She would have said more, but she was unsure of what would be a good conversation starter. Should she ask about school, or would that seem bland and make her appear uninterested? Not letting her worry on what to say slip onto her face, she continued to smile, her gaze traveling from the man to her cup of creamy coffee. Elizabeth Laine. Small talk extraordinaire.

At first, the teacher said nothing, his expression unreadable until his mouth twisted again into a light smile again, amused at her stiff posture and greeting. It was awkward, but a bit...
"You know it is the weekend. We're off duty." He mused, pulling his hands out of his pockets and taking the seat across from her, clearly having no faults for abruptly choosing her for company. You can't say you wouldn't mind anyways ;3 /shot "Barret." He offered, though it sounded like a statement more than anything else.

Liz couldn't fight the blush that rose to her cheeks, and she looked down at her hands. "Right. Sorry Mr. Sp- eh, Barret." She looked up through white hair and watched as he made himself at home, voicing no rejections. She tried to loosen up a bit, to get out of that high-strung routine she had so firmly sewed herself into. After a few moments of silence where she toyed with the handle of her coffee cup, a soft, tentative voice spoke up from her end of the table. "Elizabeth." She told him, a bit uncertainly. "Please, call me Elizabeth." She paused, biting down on her lip. It was a habit, which she appeared to do unconsciously. "Do you want some coffee, Barret?" She questioned, directing towards the kettle beside her.
Without thinking, she looked over to study him, though she did so subtly. He was an attractive man, really a looker, but her amber eyes were focused on his forehead. She looked for his most recent memory, almost as a reflex to see what he was thinking. Nothing. Baffled, she narrowed her eyes lightly and shuffled deeper into his memories, trying to find even the faintest trace of thoughts. Still, she came across nothing.
It was so strange to Elizabeth. She hadn't come across a person who she couldn't read as easily as an open book. Except, now, this man. Straightening up in her seat, she tried not to let even the smallest emotion shine through her facade, but really, she was worried.

With slight satisfaction, he noticed the blush that flowered onto her face, but chose not to seem as if he noticed, nor say anything about it - though it only added to his amusement that the young secretary had already tripped over herself. He didn't make any effort to try to break the silence and appreciated it when she did. He wasn't exactly the best conversationalist either. "Elizabeth." Barret repeated quietly, trying the name. It seemed too long and troublesome for his taste. The teacher nodded yes to her offer of coffee, folding both arms on the tabletop, his copper eyes looking her over curiously.
Whenever she looked at him, he feigned distraction, looking at his watch or at some random painting on the wall, but he knew exactly what she was doing - although she was good at hiding it. Years of practice, he supposed. Spion had paperwork on all the students and staff alike, of their gifts, most specifically, so it came no surprise to him when he felt what he could only describe as some-sort of pressure on his shield. It was bothersome, trying hard to break through and enter his mind - which he couldn't afford to let happen of course. When Barret finally glanced back at her, he liked to think he saw some sort of frustration on her face, but to no satisfaction. "Is something wrong, Lizzie?" He asked passively, trying his new dubbed name of hers out for size while he was at it.

Liz nodded and grabbed another cup from the end of the table, taking time and attention to pour the cup so she didn't have to look over at the man seated across from her. She wasn't used to not knowing someone. All the teachers and students she had at least a bit of their story in her memory, though she never spoke of it. She wouldn't break anyone's trust like that. Their stories weren't her's to tell, after all. But this man in front of her... she knew nothing about him, and that both scared and interested her. She handed him the cup, meeting his eyes, curiosity coloring her's. At his question, she shook her head and smiled. "Nothing is wrong." She looked almost puzzled by the question. After a few more moments of silence, she tentatively spoke up. "So, tell me about yourself, Barret." If she couldn't figure out the easy way, she'd go another route.

Although one with never be able to tell, he was slightly disappointed by her kind smile and look of confusion, having expected to strike a cord of some sorts or frustrate her; like so many before her who tried to crack into his mind. He took the cup and held it quietly in his hands, embracing the heat as he glanced back into her eyes. He wasn't one for mushiness or anything of the sort, but compared to that chilling, blue gaze he saw often, her warm, amber stare seemed to bring some sort of relief,
Barret broke the contact first and glanced down, idly looking for his reflection in the dark, streaming cup. There was none. "About myself?" The blonde man repeated, raising an eyebrow. "You'll have to be more specific."

Taking a sip from her own cup, Elizabeth peered over the edge of the mug for a moment. Now, she was determined to find out a bit about him. But he didn't seem willing to share, which only piqued her interest. Setting the cup on the table, she shrugged nonchalantly, as if it couldn't matter less to her. "Where'd you grow up, what's your favorite color, why are you a teacher?" She offered. "I don't know, just about yourself." Liz laughed lightly, which was almost strange coming from the polite and quiet woman. "Of course, I apologize if I'm being rude for asking." She spoke hastily, uncertain once again.

Barret simply took another sip of his coffee for a few moments, looking thoughtful as he carefully picked out his next choice of words. "I grew up in a place that wasn't here. I like the clear color. And I became a teacher because I wanted to come to this school to learn a few things, like about Beata's renowned Miss Secretary." He winked at her, a little surprised at how she laughed, but she seemed to get back to her usual self not a moment later. "Don't worry about it." Spion paused. It was almost 5'o'clock. A drink was starting to sound good.

It was hard to notice, but Elizabeth's eyes narrowed softly. She knew nothing about this man. And she had no reason to want to know him other than the fact that he was one of the few people she had ever met that she couldn't figure out. And that scared her. He wasn't normal, or familiar, and the one thing she knew about him is that there was something there that screamed trouble.
Shaking these thoughts from her head, she smiled softly, her lips quirking up at the ends. "Flattered, really, but may I ask why all the secrets?" Her question was light, and she didn't really expect a serious answer from him anyway.
Liz watched the man for a moment, noticing the pause and his air of restlessness. She tilted her head to the side, like a curious puppy. "Is there somewhere you have to be, Mr. Spi- Barret? Sorry if I'm holding you up." She was self-conscious again, slipping back into her quiet and polite self, gazing up at the blond with wide amber eyes.

"Whose keeping secrets?" Barret muttered, giving her a feigned look of innocinse as he gaze up at her. It didn't take him long after that to finish his coffee, "I'm not lying." He looked a bit caught off guard after that, letting loose a crooked grin and shaking his head down at the table, "No, its not you." The blonde leaned back and pulled out his wallet, throwing a few bills on the table and stuffing it away again. He stood up and offered Elizabeth a hand. "Come on. I'll buy you a real drink."

Elizabeth sighed silently, her shoulders lifting and falling in defeat. She let the topic go, for now, partially because she knew he wasn't telling her anything, and partially out of surprise as he threw down his money on to the table. She was about to protest against him paying, but didn't get the chance. As she opened her mouth, he stuck out her hand. For a moment she just stared at his hand uncertainly. "I usually don't go for alcohol after coffee, if that's what you're offering. And you really don't have to buy me anything." She looked up at him, studying his face for a moment. "But, alright." Elizabeth reached out and took his hand, helping herself up. Standing, she let her hand linger for a moment before pulling away and stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jacket.

"Do you drink at all?" Barret asked, raising an eyebrow and,starting to get a bit suspicious that he had a little light-weight in his hands. Still, the look on his face brightened a bit in light of this victory. He gave her a careful look as she took his hand and held onto it longer than he'd expected, though - with the smallest smile - he wasn't complaining and was about to literally go with it before she slipped away. Barret led her outside to an older, but well kept. "Hope you don't mind the ride?" He asked, opening the door for her.