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"Yeah, my great grandfather moved over here from Italy." Atticus replied, curious about what she had wrote on her hand, but then he asked. "Now you tell me something, What would your name be?"

Heather hesitated a moment then wrote the words 'Italian decendant' on her palm. She flipped her palms down and rubbed them slowly on her jeans. Her caramel gold eyes flicked up at him and she grinned slyly.
"You can call my Angel, only people I know call me by my real name. Sorry Mystery Guy, but I gotta' know ya' to tell ya' anything about me." She said with a small wink.

Atticus smirked, "That's understandable-" he broke off when his walkie talkie chimed out suddenly.

"Soprano! Where the h*ll are you, ya' no good excuse for a detective! Get back out here to the scene you lazy bum!!"

Atticus gritted his teeth while he listened.

Heather slumped back in her seat, all respect and interest she held for the guy suddenly dissapearing. That's why he hadn't joined the protest last night, because he was a cop. Her coppery brown eyes looked up at him and she frowned. Heather never liked cops and certainly nod get 'involved' with one.
"Oh. You're a detective. Interesting." She said through gritted teeth. Heather gathered her thing hurridly and jotted the words 'Controll freak' on her hands. That's all that cops were in her eyes, people who wanted to controll everyone else. After shooting him a stern look she shoved past his and walked to the door.

"Oh d*mn-it!" Atticus groaned he then looked sadly off after her, he didn't want to be another stereo-type. He knew how protesters saw cops, if only she knew he was nothing like that. "Hey, w-wait up! Please wait a second!" he begged following after her quickly.

Heather rolled her eyes and turned to Atticus. She huffed slighty. Who did this guy think he was?This guy was a cop, she wanted nothing to do with him.
"What?" she said icily, her hand on the door.

"Hey look, I know what protesters think of cops. But you've got me pegged all wrong-"

"Soprano! Where are-", he turned off the walkie talkie that was clipped to his belt, not wanting to be interrupted. "Please don't think I'm a stereo-type, fat a** doughnut eating, crooked cop... I'm not like that, I'm only a cop cause my Dad set me up to be... I'm one of the few 'good' cops left in this city."

Heather gave him and icy look and crossed her arms over her chest. She didn't like judging people before she knew them, but still. What if he was lying? She'd never trust a cop, not after what happened at UC Davis a few months ago. Still, it wasn't like her to judge.
"Fine Mystery Guy, i'll give you the benifit of a doubt. But I don't like cops."

Atticus smirked "You ain't gotta like me, but my boss is probably p*ssed that I'm not there, soooo do you think you could meet me later tonight, at the bar down the road. Taste of Ireland, my friend owns it..."

Heather's eyes narrowed, he was not asking her on a date. She'd never be caught dead with a cop, but she had to be nice. With a long, dragging, sigh, Heather nodded. She couldn't believe what she was doing at first, but then quickly adjusted into the idea.

"Yeah sure, i'll be there around 8:00." Heather confirmed, her grip still on the door.

He nodded "I'll see ya then." he assured with a nod and a smile. He was surprised at what she'd said, but he wasn't about to complain.

With that Heather left to go back to her apartment. She rounded the corner, her coffee in hand, and noticed it had started to rain. She cursed and ran to her door. Her fingers grabbed the keys and she shoved the little key into the door. Heather couldn't seem to get into the house fast enough. She erupted inside the dry apartment and emmediatly made a B-line to the showers.

Once showered and dry, Heather began to brush her hair and turned on the TV. She'd have to eat soon, but she was too lazy to make something.

.::Later that Night::.

Atticus pushed his way into the bar, which was fuller than usual. He had gotten screamed at by his boss earlier that day, but was still not fired.

"There ye' are Attie." Angus greeted, and Atticus took a seat on the bar stool.

"Hey Angus." the young man greeted.

"What're you doing here? It's not Friday."

"Meetin' someone."

"A date?" Angus grinned.

"No way! I barley got her to agree to come casually."

Heather reluctantly got off the bus that had driven her to the Taste of Ireland bar and pub. She hadn't known how to dress, and wore a simple T-shirt with a tight fitting navy green jacket and a rather nice pair of skinny jeans. Her hair was smooth and rushed down her back like a waterfall, and her sneakers slapped the wet pavent messily.

When Heather entered the pub, she could tell it was popula. People flooded the bar and staggered around with drinks in hand. Her caramel eyes scanned the crowd, looking for Atticus. The notes she had taken on him were still messily written on her hand, but she had rubbed out 'Controll Freak' in an act of kindness. Heather's eyes fell upon Atticus and her stomach did a tuck roll. She snorted, why was she so excited to see him? He was a cop! Heather was only being nice when she decided to come there!

She slowly made her way over to Atticus and tapped his shoulder.

"Hey, I came." She said simply.

Atticus jumped a little and turned to look at her, his eyes filled with surprise when he saw her, but he smiled his usual charming smile. "Well, it's good to see you." he greeted warmly. "Wanna sit down?" he asked signaling to the stool next to him.

Angus looked at them a moment then turned and walked down to another costumer at the end of the bar.