Okay then. Time to close up shop, boss lady.” Malcolm disentangled himself from her, then lent a hand to help her out of the booth. A bit flustered, she had to feign at least some semblance of closing procedures to keep up the farce that they were indeed in a functional diner. She rounded the cash register and pretended to input some special codes, gave the counter a quick wipe with a nearby towel, turned off some light switches. Meanwhile Malcolm watched, looking hungry and amused. She returned to the booth and grabbed his half-drunken Fanta and his barely-touched cheese fries.
“Oh, yeah, sorry I didn’t finish them, I got a wee bit distracted.” he uttered. There was a pause, and then he continued. “Wait. Did you make those fries then?”
Clara gave him a wink and refused to answer. She took the unfinished items into the kitchen.