Lunch Rush

Who: Henrik, Sofia, Kraller, Genevieve
Where: Cafe` Mason
When: Lunch time
What: A busy lunch brings some German patrons to the cafe`.

The Germans have invaded. For lunch, that is. Kraller is seated at a corner table with a nice window view. Better to keep an eye on Frenchies in the streets. He's having a sandwich and what passes for coffee these days, in the company of an enlisted man. The two exchange occasional snatches of conversation, though Kraller seems more absorbed in this own thoughts than whatever his underling can manage for small-talk.

The shadows of some dark creature lingering on the fringes pull themselves together, to call themself Sofia. She's got a folder and what looks like a journal or writing book tucked under her arm. Could passibly be a ledger. She has a cool, distant expression on her face, as if pulling her mind away helps her deal with being trapped in a country full of Frenchpeople. She is pondering many a mystery, stepping inside the cafe and glancing around, perhaps for someone she knows. Oh, hrm. There's some other Germans. She seems curious, peering over cautiously.

Genevieve is pulling double duty today. She told Morgenstern when the cafe reopened that she would waitress as much as entertain, as he couldn't just pay someone to look nice. So, having finished a few songs just five minutes ago, she's on the floor running the rush of the lunch hour. She'll be back on stage when things calm down. She passes by Kraller's table, flashing him a bit of a smile, "Anything else I might get you gentlemen?" She offers in French, hoping ONE Of them speaks her language at least. Her eyes then flicker to Sofia and she smiles to the woman also, "Find somewhere to sit, I will be there in a moment!"

Kraller looks up when the cafe gets a new entrant. To glare and look imposing, if need be. But, when he recognizes Sofia, his stern face relaxes into a smile. Albeit a faint one. "Frauline Weir. If you are in need of a seat, you are welcome to join us." He stands, putting his hand on an unoccupied chair and half-pulling it out. The German officer has invaded the cafe for lunch, with an underling. Sofia has just come in. Genevieve is pulling waitress duty, between songs.

Sofia is no stranger to the traditional German Glare(TM). She smiles politely, back at Kraller. A little nod. She is after all, a Doktor and should act like it. "Oh, thank you," She nods to Genevieve. Sofia apparently, speaks French. Surprisingly well, actually. She seems to accept Kraller's offer, heading towards his table. "Thank you, Herr," She murmurs. Sofia will slip into the seat and look around a moment. "It is very kind of you," Both goes unsaid. Ahem. She will wait patiently then, to be served, in case the officer or his underling wish to speak first.

Genevieve steps back and pulls out Sofia's chair, apparently having just given up and given into the Germans in the town. At least, her motions aren't fighting or angry. She's just helping. Or, maybe she's trying to keep business for her boss, probably an even more sane motive than any other. Either way, she smiles to the now trio, "Madame, welcome… Now, what can I get you all?" Gene pulls out small note pad from a pocket at the side of her sleek black tuxedo dress, not really having time to change between waitressing and her usual job.

No sooner has the cafe door started to fall closed after Sofia, than a large hand catches it to slowly push it open again. As the lady doctor is crossing the floor and taking her invited seat, a more suitable subject of the German Glare(tm) fills the frame. Stepping inside with a short pass of blue eyes, Henrik regards the german trio curtly on his way to the bar.

Kraller waits for Sofia to settle herself before retaking his seat. Gentleman that he is. "I would like another cup of coffee, please," he orders from Genevieve. He then looks to Sofia. "The sandwiches are quite excellent, Frauline Doktor. And the coffee is no worse than I've come to expect these days." Despite his polite manner the Nazi officer seems tired, even tense. So he's quite happy to have an opportunity unleash the patented German Glare on Henrik when the Swede enters. He fixes his eyes on the man, waiting for him to do something subversive.

Ah. Sofia seems to appreciate the behavior then. "Thank you," She murmurs. To who? Huh. "Coffee and a sandwhich sounds fine, then, please," She smiles back to Kraller. Sofia seems distant, but she tilts her head at the tired, possibly tense Kraller. Curious. She turns her head, to see what the German Glare is being delivered to. Oh. She frowns slightly, spotting Henrik and looks away. Back to the fellows at the table.

Genevieve nods smoothly, "Two coffees and a sandwich. Won't be but a moment." She gives them one last smile and allows her high heels to carry her quickly back across the room. At least she's not useless at this waitressing thing, moving quickly and comfortable behind the bar. She grabs the pot of freshly brewed coffee, having put another pot on when they initially ordered, and pours out another cup before bringing it over ot top of the man's mug also. The fresh cup is set before Sofia and she disappears behind the bar again. Her eyes trail over Henrik, questioning as to his order, but she doesn't actually say anything to him.

Henrik returns Kraller's stare for a moment, before directing his sharp regard to taking note of the rank insignia and sidearm, before turning his attention off the nazi, familiar frowning expression unwarmed. Sofia is noted and ignored, as is Kraller's associate. "Hrm." This leaves Genevieve, to whom the big man rumbles, "Beer," as he steps smoothly up to the bar, leaning on his elbows.

Kraller's glare follows Henrik but eventually he turns away. He seems more frustrated than actively interested in the man. For now. He drinks his coffee, settling his attention back on Sofia. Genevieve is offered a short nod of thanks but little other acknowledgement. «It is good to see you again, Frauline,» he says, slipping back into German for conversation. Fluent as his French is, it's not the language he prefers. «I could use the distraction of some pleasant company today.»

"Of course," Sofia nods. She is at least, polite. The woman doesn't seem frustrated, more lonely and darker. Either way, she has company now, so she seems a bit brighter. She smiles back at Kraller. « And I am glad to see you too, Herr, » She replies easily. Sofia squelches any traces of a blush. But she looks flattered. « Hm, a very silly doctor is good company? You flatter me, thank you, » She remarks. « How are you today, and - your friend? » A peer to the underling, then back to Kraller.

Genevieve nods to Henrik, though she motions for him to wait a moment as she calls back to the kitchen for one of the sandwiches. She then steps back out, grabbing the man's preferred beer and a bottle opener. She pries the cap off and slides it across the bar towards him, "Good day, Monsieur. Did you need food also?" Her eyes continue watching the Germans, making certain no more coffee is needed… among other things.

Henrik shakes his head to Genevieve's query as fingers close about the glass of the sliding bottle. "No. Not now." Without looking backward at the more genteel table, the swede asks brusquely, "You slinging plates tonight, instead of singing?" As ever, the man's french is harsh and strongly accented. He draws a first sip.

Kraller returns Sofia's smile, though it still never quite relaxes the habitual sternness of his face. «You are better company than most that can be found in this town, Frauline Doktor. And we? Are well enough. Tired. Major Vogel has been waking us early and keeping us late.» His underling nods and grunts at that. He's not the most conversant of schutzes.

« Ah, well, that's good, I think, » Sofia grins lightly. Good to be slightly better company than Frenchies huh? « I am glad you are well, although, I feel badly they wake you so early, » She shakes her head. At least Sofia has slightly different hours. Though, papers. Lots of them. She nods back at the underling, somewhat used to the grunts. There was at least one German who communicated in mostly grunts. « They mostly keep me up to my ears in paperwork, although the only danger there is papercuts, » She's obviously being self-depreciating there. Sofia takes a deep breath.

A frown crosses Genevieve's features as she watches the Germans for a moment or two, and then looks back to Henrik. "Ah, I promised Monsieur Morgenstern that I would help with more than the entertainment when they are busy. Soon as everyone's taken care of, I will go sing for a bit again." She states with a half smile, not entirely thrilled to wait tables, but at least she's helping.

"Hey," Henrik mutters as Genevieve looks toward the germans for those moments, "Forget them a minute, I'm talking to you." A dry half-smirk at the impolite words he'd given, before drawing a second sip and adding, "Unless you'd rather get back to your tables?"

Kraller chuckles lowly. « Paper cuts can be quite troublesome. I battled them frequently back in university. But now my concerns are a bit more tangible. The major has his reasons for driving us. He is frustrated. And what frustrates Major Vogel frustrates us all. » His smile turns to a deprecating smirk. « As I am sure you can understand. I have heard much of the esteemed Herr Doktor Schmidt's reputation. »

« Oh? » Sofia smiles as Kraller chuckles. She seems pleased. Her expression even seems a bit lighter. « I understand, yes. I am sorry … things are so frustrating, » Sofia pauses. « Still, I am around if you ever need to talk to someone, it's not as if I go too many places, » She shakes her head. Sofia is probably kept under some watch, after all, being both a doctor and one of the few German women around. At least, ratio wise.

Gene's pale eyes are fully drawn back to Henrik as he scolds her, and she almost gives him a touch of a smirk. "Let me refill their coffee and I will be back." Friends or not, the table was a priority right now. She scoops up the coffee pot and skirts around the edge of the bar, stepping back to the table and silently filling both Sofia and Kraller's mug, "Sandwich will be just another minute." She then steps back over, replaces the coffee, and turns her eyes fully to Henrik, "Something on your mind?"

Henrik draws a third sip before setting the bottle down on the bar- if he keeps hold, he'll just sip the thing away in no time, and the big man seems intent on drawing out the drink. Idly turning to follow the singer's path toward the table of germans, he again regards the nazis in turn for a moment, mute.

Kraller offers a coolly polite "Merci" to Genevieve as she refills his coffee. As his head turns he notices Henrik's attention on them. He regards the Swede for a moment before turning his own attention back to Sofia. « I may take you up on that offer, Frauline Doktor Weir. Have you dined at the barracks yet? The officers' mess is not badly accommodated, for as far from Germany as we are. We can get better rations than even this cafe. You would be most welcome for dinner whenever you like. » He pauses before adding, « Herr Doktor, too, of course. Major Vogel is a great admirer of his work. »

A thank you from Sofia too! She doesn't look to Henrik, apparently figuring the man will do what he will. « Oh? » Sofia tilts her head. « I have not, » She replies. « I would be glad to have dinner with you there then, Herr Officer Kraller, » She smiles at the man. Sofia kind of quirks a brow at the last statement, then nods. « Of course, he will appreciate it, I think. » Apparently even Sofia sometimes has a hard time reading the man. « He usually eats alone though, » She notes. But it doesn't seem like it'll stop *her* from taking Kraller up on his offer.

Since Henrik is now busy watching the Germans, even as Gene had come back to see him, she sighs and smirks to herself, shaking her head and ducking into the kitchen to get Sofia's sandwich. That's delievered a moment later and she lingers, just a heartbeat, to make certain they do not wish to order anything else. She then ducks around the bar and watches the swede, a smirk of impatience upon her pretty features.

Henrik doesn't leave his eye on the nazis once the german speech resumes, bringing his attention back to Genevieve- just in time to note she's disappeared behind the counter. With a low snort and grudging, short lived smirk as she silently returns his earlier scolding. "Nothing more than normal. Goddamn bored."

Kraller orders nothing more from Genevieve. Apart from the service she provides, he takes little notice of her at all. Sofia's answers prompts another faint hint of a smile. « Excellent. I shall look forward to it. Please, do what you can to convince Herr Doktor. The major could use all the distractions available. He is still most upset about the incident at our fuel tanks. » He shrugs. « As I am, of course. The murder of two German soldiers cannot be taken lightly. But I hope our investigation shall conclude soon. »

« Of course, » Sofia replies easily, still that faint smile. Then she shakes her head at Genevieve, "No thank you." She does however, prepare to begin an attack on her helpless sandwich. « I imagine so, what a terrible series of things to happen, » The woman frowns empathetically. « Such a shame. » She agrees. What else to say? « If there's any way I can help, I would be glad to. I guess if you need renegade paperwork taken care of… » Another self depreciating joke. Alas.

Genevieve chuckles faintly, murmuring something rather quiet to Henrik, perhaps flirting with him, but then she leans against the stool behind the bar and just takes a few moments to catch her breath. She hadn't stopped running since lunch began, really! "Well, if you are bored then YOU can wait tables, so I can sing and not be running a marathon in high heels." She states with a half laugh.

Henrik grunts flatly, to Genevieve's comment. "Hrm. Yeah, with my sunny face and sweet speech, the customers will be lining up to run screaming away." He pauses to draw another sip, before concluding, "Don't think Morgenstern would approve."

Kraller lets out another low, understate chuckle. « The paperwork I can manage on my own. The major gave me until the end of the week to find the man responsible. If not the Englishmen, then one who will lead us to him. He must have had help from someone in town. But do not fear, Frauline. The subversive element in Arras is not overwhelming, I think. Most of the people here seem to understand it is best for all to cooperate. I do not think it will be difficult to keep order. So long as we deal swiftly with the fools who would make themselves enemies of the Reich. »

Kraller lets out another low, understate chuckle. « The paperwork I can manage on my own. The major gave me until the end of the week to find the man responsible. If not the Englishmen, then one who will lead us to him. He must have had help from someone in town. But do not fear, Frauline. The subversive element in Arras is not overwhelming, I think. Most of the people here seem to understand it is best for all to cooperate. I do not think it will be difficult to keep order. So long as we deal swiftly with the fools who would make themselves enemies of the Reich. »

« Mm, » A soft grunt at that. « Alright. And I imagine you are right, » Sofia seems to believe in his expertise. She has begun the nibbling of the sandwich, pausing to listen between bites. She nods. « Of course, » Mostly, she is trying to be a good listener. Fortunately, she seems to eat reasonably quickly. « I will see you soon, herr. I fear my lunchtime draws short and it is unwise to be tardy, » She frowns a little. « Thank you for your company, I look forward to more of it. »

Genevieve gives Henrik a wiry little smile at his joke, "I think you might be right. So… for now, I attend to my tables, and you get to sit, relax, and drink." She pulls down the slip for Sofia and Kraller, bringing the checks over and taking care of it rather quickly for them. She is an attentive waitress, if nothing else, and her total lack of understanding German probably helps those at the table almost enjoy their lunch, in the long run.

Henrik nods once as Genevieve steps away to do her job, the big swede turning back to pick up the bottle and draw another short drink. He lets his stare settle without focus on the bottles arrayed behind the bar. Silently biding his time.

« I will see you soon, Frauline Doktor Weir, » Kraller says. He's nearly done with his own sandwich and the coffee is long gone. His underling is still sipping his own drink and frowning, but he does nod tersely to Sofia as she takes her leave. Kraller stands, to see her off in properly gentlemanly fashion.

A smile at that. Sofia nods to the underling in turn, politely. She will pay for her tab, accepting the gentlemanly send off then! She makes sure not to leave anything behind. « Be well, Herr Officer, » Sofia says before disappearing nearly as quickly as she came.

Genevieve tilts her head to the side, watching Kraller and Sofia with momentarily narrowed eyes…"Is it just me, or are the Germans flirting? Is that how they flirt? Mm. We need to show them how it is done, some day." Gene quips lightly, an amused smile dancing over her lips as she moves back to get Henrik another bottle of beer. Surely that is why he's staring down the bottles behind the bar!

Henrik hrms with a sniff. "Probably. Thought it would involve more salutes," he comments dryly on the subject of teutonic flirting. At the latter half of Genevieve's jest, he snorts once before rumbling, "Show them, some day? Swedes flirt by clubbing the woman over the head and dragging her off by the hair, hadn't you heard?"

Kraller puts some money down to cover the cost of his meal. And only the cost. Nazis are bad tippers. He nods shortly to his underling, who also stands. But the two do not leave yet. Instead, they fix their attention on Henrik at last. Kraller straightens his back, his face stern again, and marches toward him. "Herr Svensson, is it? A word, please." If he took any notice of the talk of flirting by salutes and clubs, he gives no outward sign of it.

Genevieve laughs deeply at the comment about clubbing, "That might be YOU, Henrik… I have heard some other Swedes are real gentlemen." She grins and then slips away, heading to the table to collect the money. She's not really surprised by the tip, she slips it all in her pocket and steps back to the bar, hesitating a moment with a half frown… she doesn't quite intrude on the conversation, but she watches both the men carefully now.

The swede grunts in dry, wordless humor at Genevieve's words, drawing another short drink of his bottle- the beer nearly gone by now. As the nazis stand and approach him, the big man half turns to look over one shoulder. As Kraller addresses him, Henrik turns slowly to fully face the officer. "I am Svensson, yes," with a nod, as he awaits the subject.

"You work at the docks, yes?" It's phrased as a question but Kraller doesn't seem to doubt the correct answer. "I am assembling a report on all recent traffic and transactions through the river. I would like a word with you, to flesh it out. At the police station, at your earliest convenience." His manner is all of politeness but there's a hardness in his eyes as he regards the Swede.

Genevieve slips behind the bar, remaining away from the men but not TOO far. She forces herself not to look at either of them through the whole conversation but there is a new tension to her motions.

Henrik nods curtly once, regarding Kraller as he answers levelly, "You're in luck then. Since some officer asked it of me a week ago, I have kept a count of boats and barges. There aren't many, these days." A drawn breath, before he adds, "Can go back to my residence to check it before Police station. Maybe ten minutes." He leaves open whether the nazi wishes to part ways, or accompany him.

"You can follow instructions properly, at least," Kraller says. "Yes, your count would be most appreciated. But it can wait more than ten minutes. I have another matter to attend with the local police this afternoon. Tomorrow will do."

"Good," Henrik notes with a nod to Kraller's instruction. "I'll finish my beer and go to the Police Station tomorrow." A moment, before he asks, "Anything else, Herr?"

Kraller shakes his head. "Not at this time, Herr Svensson. The Reich thanks you for your cooperation." A sharp inclination of his head in given to Henrik, and a less-sharp nod toward Genevieve, before he turns on his heel and strides out of the cafe. The enlisted man accompanying him follows.

Henrik nods once and turns back to lean again on the bar, one hand closing it's battered fingers around the glass. The last of the beer is drained in a short gulp, and once more his blue regard settles on Genevieve. Drawing a breath as he hears the door close behind Kraller and the cronie, he voices quietly to the singer, "Tell people to be very goddamn polite for the next week."

Genevieve turns her head, frowning deeply as she watches the man go. Now it was actually just them…or, well, just locals, for a surprising few moments. She stares back at him, "Why…? What is happening? Are you going to be alright? He wants you at the -police- station!" Gene is definitely worried now.

"The fascist has been given one week to find the Englishman, or his accomplice," Henrik states evenly. "If he does not find the pilot, they may simply arrest anyone suspicious to save face." The swede's manner remains stoic. "The police station doesn't worry me. I'm 'useful' to them."

Genevieve frowns again, but she just nods, "I will… spread the word. Polite. Alright. I think we can handle that, for a week at least." She chuckles and, after giving one last look over the room, turns to pour herself a good, tall glass of wine. Almost a double pour. She deserved it after that running!

Henrik snorts. "If I can, then the rest of you can fucking well manage to avoid getting them angry for awhile." A short look about the cafe, noting the rare moment of semi-privacy. "And learning a language to the point it gets useful takes a goddamn long time. Still, for what its worth, I can teach you a few words."

Genevieve sinks down onto a stool behind the bar, leaning back and just getting off her feet for a few moments. She watches him over the rim of her wine glass and nods, "I know… still, I have to start somewhere. Teach me what you can. What might be… vital, if that makes sense." She takes another good gulp of her wine, downing it like water.

Henrik eyes the singer for a moment before stating, "If you hear 'Toten sie alle', then run. It means 'Kill them all'." a shake of his head as the big fellow leans his elbows on the bar, bringing him to about eye level with Genevieve. "What would you want to know?"

Genevieve stares at him just a heartbeat or two, not exactly shaken by his first lesson, but it's something that does momentarily jar her. She finishes off her wine in one gulp. "Alright. Toten sie alle." She repeats, the words momentarily burning themselves in her mind. She sighs, "You have a cigarette?…And small things. I don't know… patrols? Directions, maybe? God, I don't know where to start."

Henrik shakes his head. "Havn't smoked since Jarama," he notes, adding with a short shrug: "Never got back into the habit." Drawing and letting out a deep breath, the foreigner voices, "Thats the trouble.. So many little things that could be useful.. and a dozen ways the fascists might say them."

Genevieve stands then, moving to start cleaning up from the lunch rush. "I'll…try to compile a list, think things through at least. You can come to the estate, have some wine… we'll start then. Right now, isn't he expecting you at the station?" she offers, a bit worried still bit she's managing to restrain it.

Henrik shakes his head. "Another reason to not worry: he said to come to the station tomorrow. Still," he adds planting both palms on the bar anmd rising to his full height again. "I'll go. You'll have enough time to get sick of my voice over drinks later. No need to keep it up now." Without further ado, he turns toward the door.

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