Shannon heard the protestors before she ever saw them, their voices echoing in the cold winter air. Today, they sang the song with the lyrics, "We don't need no Clax invasion..." to the tune of Pink Floyd's classic, Another Brick in the Wall. It wasn't until shouts of, "Go Home!" and, "Get off our planet!" echoed that she knew there might be an issue when she turned the corner.

As she did, she saw civilians starting to surround a woman and a Claxian to protect them from a crowd of sign-wielding protestors with obvious intent on creating a scene... or worse. She whipped out her phone and put a call into the Agency dispatch to send help. She ached to get involved, and she usually would have, but she was on a mission and couldn't jeopardize it. Instead, she waited on the outskirts, ready to wade in if there was actual danger of serious confrontation until a group of four Agents rounded the corner down the block.

Satisfied, she continued on to her date with War. She tried to calm her nerves, to no avail, as she stepped out of the cold into the little deli packed with lunch patrons. The counter was full, though one person was gathering their things to leave. Behind them, the line from the deli counter snaked toward the door, filling the only orderly path to be found through the sea of tables and chairs.

It was so full of people and Claxians alike that Ben was hidden for a moment, but her eyes finally spied his buzzed head. At the precise moment she spotted him, he turned and located her at the door. The grin spread across his face and lit his eyes, even from across the crowded floor, and she couldn't help but smile in return. He wove his way through the throng to get to her as she removed her gloves and untied her scarf.

"Hi!" he exclaimed with as much sparkle in his voice as in his expression.

"Hi, yourself!" She beamed in return. She had been worried about meeting him, but now she realized she had been silly; he honestly had been looking forward to seeing her again. Well, it's that or the chance to have a Reuben, she silently chuckled.

He reached to help her out of her coat, and she shrugged it off. Skin tingling, the hair on the back of her beck stood on end with the closeness of him. He held it for her as she smoothed her sweater and readjusted her purse's strap on her shoulder, struggling to keep from rubbing the goosebumps away.

He was in civilian clothes rather than in his robes from yesterday. With that realization, and the reminder he was a monk, her nervousness renewed itself, and she became tongue-tied.

Fortunately, he seemed perfectly happy to take the lead in the conversation. "How has your day been?"

Remembering her resolve to be herself, Shannon answered honestly. "It was a long and boring morning. I'm much happier to be here."

Ben beamed. "Good! I've been looking forward to lunch with you, too." Smiling, he looked around then gestured toward a small table in the back. "Come on, I see a place to sit."

They wound their way through the horde of people and claimed the seats just as the busboy, who could have only been about twelve, finished wiping it down. He hung her coat on a nearby hook, adding to the row of outerwear found there, as she sat and began to look at the menu.

"I thought you were going to have a Reuben," he laughed, eyes crinkling. She wondered if he was always this happy or if she had something to do with it.

"Oh, I do this every time," she scoffed good-naturedly. "I look at all the food, then order the Reuben and fries."

He sat in his own chair and began to look through his menu. "I'm partial to the grilled cheese and tomato soup combo myself."

"Oh, that does sound good!"

"Good enough to give up the Reuben?" he teased.

She laughed. "Of course not!" She put her menu away when the young waitress stopped at the edge of the table.

The two of them ordered, then settled in for the wait.

She decided to cut to the chase. "Okay, so I have a question."

"It's the 'dating monk' question, isn't it?" he guessed.

She chuckled. "You've been here before. Should I be offended?"

"Nah. I've been on several dates since starting my journey, but they never developed into something long-term. Most women, I have found, have a real issue with dating a monk."

"So, about that..."

"You want to know why I date, right?" he asked. "I took vows, after all." She nodded, and he continued. "The precept, at least as interpreted by my teacher, about sex and relationships isn't a declaration of celibacy or a renouncing of romantic relations. The vow I took was, in a nutshell, to not misuse sexuality or exhibit sexual misconduct. If a relationship is desired, I am free to pursue one, though committed, long-term relationships are encouraged over other choices I might consider."

"How long ago did you take vows?" Shannon asked, nodding to the server with a smile as she passed the drink she had ordered.

"About fifteen years," he answered, sipping on his water.

About the time the Claxians arrived and the world became much more peaceful, she mused and couldn't help but wonder if it was a coincidence.

In the small lull, he took the opportunity to ask his own question. "How about you? Any religious affiliations?"

She shook her head. "No, not really. I mean, I was raised Christian, but I'd already begun to fall away from it when the Immortals were uncovered. Now, if I had to choose, I'd say I was 'spiritual but not religious.'"

He nodded and sipped. "Yeah, the discovery of the deities did that to a lot of people."

Waiting on their food, they chatted about nothing consequential until it arrived. Shannon had a mouthful of sandwich when he asked the question she'd been dreading. She was glad she could feign politeness and chew for a while before answering.

As nonchalantly as she could, she tossed out, "I work for the Agency. I went in right out of college about six years ago and have been with them ever since."

She sensed his hesitation. He, too, masked it with eating. "Oh? So what do you do?"

"I'm an administrative assistant. Terribly dull, I'm afraid," she said with a laugh she hoped didn't sound forced and quickly turned the tables. "What about you? Are you a monk full-time? Do you have a job?"

"I volunteer a lot. I'll be honest, while I donate to various charities and, of course, my own place of worship, I'm decently well off. I don't really have to work. Trust fund baby."

She raised an eyebrow. That was not the explanation she'd expected. But then again, had she really thought he'd admit he was wealthy? If you're Immortal and so you lived a long time, it was nigh but impossible to not be. "Oh? So, you went to boarding school as a kid?"

"Yep. Boarding school... Ivy League... all that." He stirred his soup.

"I..." Shannon started, pausing, "get the feeling the subject makes you uncomfortable."

"A little," he shrugged, dipping the edge of his grilled cheese in the soup. "I'm an honest person, but there are some things I usually don't talk about right away. Like money and finances. I want someone to get to know me for me, not for my money." He shifted in his seat.

She couldn't help herself and reached out to touch his arm. "I'm interested in you. I don't need your money."

He looked surprised. "Oh?"

"I have money of my own. I'm not a trust fund baby, by any means, but my dad's a financial planner, and we got started early. I've made some really sound investments with his help and saw a great return, especially when the Claxians showed up."

He grinned and placed a warm hand over hers. She saw his shoulders visibly relax and smiled at him in return before squeezing gently and pulling away. It was all she could do not to shake her tingling hand.

"You must have invested in some tech firm or something."

"Or something," she chuckled, tossing her hair behind her before picking up the second half of her sandwich. The truth was, as soon as the Claxians were spotted, she and her father had invested in cutting-edge technologies and the classic defense contractors like Lockheed Martin, Boeing, and General Dynamics.

"Got any brothers or sisters?" he asked, pushing away the rest of his food and catching the eye of the waitress, pantomiming he needed a to-go box for the remainder of his lunch.

"No. My mom couldn't have children, and they decided to only adopt me."

"Adopt? Wow. Did you always know?"

She chuckled. "Yeah. My parents... well, let's just say I don't look anything like them."

He laughed. "Let me guess, blonde hair and blue eyes?"

"Oh no, more dramatic! Mom is a shocking redhead, the kind that's almost orange, and my dad is so pale, he could be mistaken for a vampire."

Shouting outside on the sidewalk broke into their conversation and grabbed their attention, as it did everyone in the deli. A body slammed against the glass plate window, causing the patrons there to scream and scatter from their tables. The protestors had two Claxians trapped up against the window, shouting at them.

Faster than she could follow, Ben was standing in front of her, shielding her when the first brick hit the window, cracking it. Shannon spotted Tonya amongst the people sitting at the counter, and as her friend and colleague went rushing into the fray, weapons drawn, she reached for her phone, somewhat miffed she'd relegated her own sidearm to her purse for lunch.

Automatically, she hit the speed dial for the Agency. "Dispatch, this is Agent Bigsby of the ISD. We have an altercation at Noah's Deli on the Northside." She continued to make her report watching the events unfold. Tonya and another Agent stood between the Claxians and the protestors. For now, being faced with two armed people brandishing badges was keeping them at bay.

The Agency must have had agents stationed nearby, likely due to the display she'd happened upon earlier. Their SUV screeched to a halt behind the group, and several Agents in tactical gear sporting shotguns poured out. More vehicles joined the chaos, lights flashing, and it wasn't long before, just like that, the protestors were being apprehended and taken away.

Shannon breathed a sigh of relief until she noticed Ben. He was standing above her, glaring, not out at the craziness of the street, but at her. Her heart caught in her throat.

"You work for the ISD?" he demanded as he narrowed his eyes.

She swallowed past the rising lump, certain she'd just failed her mission before it had begun.