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The Skitty wouldn't be returning. She had her answer, and as much as she would LOVE to give away the trainee's hiding place, she couldn't really be bothered to deal with the stupid mutt a second time.

"Oh, Skitty! There you are!" a sickly sweet and shrill voice drifted through the air. Nails on chalkboard, given the look on Alba's face. The Muk had just multiplied. "Sweetie, you really shouldn't run around like that." The owner, who was in plain view across the road and had been distracted by some flower displays, was a woman wearing white, heeled sandals, a red sundress, and large, dark sunglasses under a wide-brimmed, straw sunhat with a floral ribbon. Hard to judge age, slim, obvious money.

The balding man by her side was well dressed as well, but smartly so. Not to flaunt, but still to make an impression. "Should get it a leash." Alba stiffened again. Add some more Spiritombs to the pile, he knew that voice.

"Oh, hush. I wouldn't do such a cruel thing to my pretty widdle Skitty. Nooooo." Oh Arceus, she was using baby voices, whyyyyyyy?

The man merely huffed, commented that they were late for an appointment, and moved along. The woman followed, still talking about who knew what. Over the woman's shoulder, the pampered Skitty glared death and daggers back at the Growlithe and, making the connection, Claire.

Behind the dumpster, Alba had just about gone stark white, and was completely frozen save for a slight tremble and faint breathing. "Horrified" would almost be an understatement.

For a quarter of a minute, at the least, Alba showed no signs of even knowing Claire or Artemis was there, much less wanting his attention. Finally, he took a deep, shaky breath, sat up straight and squared his shoulders, and nodded. "Yea-" he coughed to clear his throat, "yeah, thanks. I'm fine." His mouth was a hard line as he stood again. "I- uh- sorry." He shook his head. "Sorry. Just... wasn't expecting that." Since when had it been so hard to swallow? "Do you think, hmm, we could look that way for lunch instead, today?" he asked, motioning the opposite way down their not-quite-an-alley-but-not-quite-a-street road, which would lead back in the direction of the electronics store. He didn't feel hungry anymore. He felt like he'd never be able to enjoy eating again.

"Yeah. You're probably right." His stomach begged to differ, but Claire was being a lot more decent in putting up with his behavior than most other people he had known. It wouldn't do for him to hide in the van with the TV for the rest of the trip. He followed along beside her, at length finally finding the ability to said a quiet, "Thank you," as they turned out onto the busier street. All he needed was a few minutes. A shop with a restroom he could disappear into for five minutes, get his act together, and he'd be good to go for the rest of the day.

Sitting sounded good. Sitting sounded very good. "Wherever is fine," he said, remembering and tugging on his sweater. Was it just him, or had it gotten a lot colder? With a weak smile, he added, "Anything edible works for me."

Italian sounded nice. And pasta would be an easy enough thing to stomach, right? Thanking the waitress as they were seated, he scanned the menu. Ooh, fettuccine alfredo. He hadn't had that one in a while. Heck, it'd been a while since he'd even been able to afford eating out like this. "I'm going to slip into their restroom for a bit. If she comes back to take our orders, could you order the chicken fettuccine alfredo for me?" Was that rude of him to make assumptions like that? His mind didn't seem to be able to process much else right then, other than the need to run run get away have to run and get out get away go away-

Shut up, mind.

What was going on? What had he missed? Why were they here? What's more, what the hell were they doing together? "Maybe I really am losing it..."

Alba hung his head over the sink, gripping the sides to steady himself. Thankfully, it was one of those small, single-person bathrooms, so there wasn't the chance of anyone else walking in through the locked door. He'd been even more grateful to learn this after slipping away.

After a few minutes of deep breathing and getting his nerves under wraps- had it really been six minutes?- he gave his face one more splash of cool water for good measure and dried off. Much better, and he really shouldn't leave Claire siting alone for too long. He paused to check himself in the mirror one more time... and quickly looked away again. Enough of this.

"Thanks for waiting," he said as he returned to his seat. The smile was still mostly forced and faked, but it was much closer to real than before. Anyone who didn't know him might even believe he was perfectly fine. "So, what did you order? You said you've been here before?"

Claire and Aulus, huh? Even if she didn't say they were a couple, Alba bit back the urge to grin and chuckle. The "disagreement" between Aulus and Lucas the night before was making more and more sense, now. Before he could think of a friendly enough way to tease the younger Rocket, or Rockets, if he ran into Aulus at all later that day, Claire had asked about earlier.

The faux cheerfulness drained away from his face, leaving only an empty smile that didn't reach his eyes even the slightest. Forcing down the emotions that wanted to come back to the surface, he casually answered, "Nothing to worry about. Just some people I used to know," and started looking around as thought to take in the restaurant. Lame, lame, lame. That was a poor excuse, and he knew it. Who was he to force his troubles on other people, though?

Still... "I'm one of the oldest trainees in our business, if not 'the' oldest. In a way, those people were part of why I had little other choice." He shook his head and briefly bit his bottom lip. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be troubling you with an old guy's past issues. Aulus, huh? Seems like a good guy. How's that going for you?" The waitress walked by then, and he quickly stopped her and politely asked for a coffee. Once she was gone, he turned his attention back to Claire.

Alba nodded his thanks again, but otherwise didn't comment further about the dumpster incident for now. He watched Claire carefully as she spoke. That wasn't just playing dumb. Either there was really nothing more than friendship between these kids, or... Oh, this was just too cute, and yes, Alba had just mentally called something "cute."

"Heh, yeah, I noticed that too. Did a pretty nice job helping me clean once, though. Can't say I really know him much more than that." He smiled gratefully to the waitress as a steaming mug of black beverage was placed before him on the table, and set to work adding a modest amount of cream and sugar. "I probably know Lucas the most, but even that's mostly from passing each other on occasion."