First Impressions

"No," Lizzie said flatly. "I just thought you were someone else."

"Oh," was all Jonathan said, looking at Lizzie's still flushed face. 

"How can I help you today?"

"A small hot chocolate, please."

Silently, Lizzie got to work, pouring the steamed milk into a to-go cup without a second thought. She presumed of course, that Jonathan wouldn't be staying.

"You don't mind if I stay for a while, do you?" he instead asked once he'd paid.

"Wouldn't want you to get caught in the rain," Lizzie shrugged, nonchalantly heading back to her spot in the armchair, though the mental image of him shivering all the way to his car was distinctly appealing right now.

Jonathan sat down in Henry's former seat, taking a long sip of his cocoa as Lizzie once again cracked open her book. Wordlessly they sat for a few minutes, the only sound in the room was the incessant rain pattering against the window panes.

"My cousin wants to go into law, too," he spoke so suddenly that Lizzie nearly jumped. "Ana."

"Oh," she acknowledged. "What practice?"

"International," he said. "How about you?"

"Criminal," Lizzie replied.

"Like one of those lawyers on "Law and Order", huh?"

"I suppose, but it's not as dramatic as they write it for television," Lizzie brushed off the comparison, something she'd heard so many times that it was becoming cliche. 

"What made you want to become a lawyer?"

What was with all the questions?

"People have always said I have a strong sense of justice," Lizzie recalled. "And I'm good at arguing, I suppose."

"I can see how you'd make a good lawyer," Jonathan replied. "You have the personality for it."

Lizzie chuckled at that. 

"You don't even know me," she drew up a small smile as she met his chocolate eyes so she didn't sound as accusing as she truly was. 

"I suppose you haven't given me an opportunity to."

"I didn't believe you wanted one."

Silence.

"So, what made you want to become a hockey player?" 

"I was really good at it." 

Lizzie supposed she'd set him up for that one, but did he have to add the "really" to emphasize his talent? 

"When you really love something," he added with an afterthought. "You never, ever stop. And because I love hockey, and I never, ever stopped."

"That's a good philosophy to have," Lizzie admitted, slightly taken aback by Jonathan's simple, yet deep response. 

He glanced at her, at first unsure whether or not she was being sarcastic. When he realized she wasn't, Jonathan looked rather pleased at her approval, his lips turning upwards and parting to reveal an infectious smile.

"So you DO smile," Lizzie laughed. "That's a first since I've met you!" 

"I'm not always Captain Serious, you know."

"Oh, I'm sure," she brushed. "But I can't really tell. Mostly you look like you'd rather be anywhere but where you are."

"Not at the moment-"

"Right, all checked in, then," Henry suddenly burst through the door, interrupting the conversation between Lizzie and Jonathan. "What's on the menu?"

Immediately, Jonathan stood up from his seat, staring at Henry with the coldest set of eyes Lizzie had seen anyone wear. It was like winter had come five months early. There was definite contrast in his demeanor from only seconds before, where Lizzie had almost enjoyed his presence.

Henry's broad grin disappeared underneath such a gaze, and he curtly nodded in Jonathan's way.

"Jonathan Toews," he acknowledged. "Never thought I'd see you around here."

"Likewise," Jonathan's voice was low and angry, filling the room with uncomfortable tension. As his face reddened with emotion, he stepped past Henry towards the door, with a brief "excuse me" before exiting the cafe.

Lizzie cleared her throat, watching Jonathan stalk down the street in the rain, only stopping to drop his half-full cup of hot cocoa in a garbage can.

"I take it you two know one another?"

"You could say that," Henry shrugged ambivalently. "We have ties."

"How so?" Lizzie handed him a menu, beckoning him to the counter's barstools. 

"I wouldn't want to make you think any less of him," he shook his head. "It's better you don't know."

"Trust me," Lizzie assured Henry. "I don't think very highly of him in the first place." 

"How about I tell you over lunch?" Henry offered, handing the menu back to her. "I'll have the grilled cheese."

Lizzie nodded with a smile.

"Coming right up," she said, giving him a smile before putting the order into the kitchen.