The Silk Moth Dream (Season 1 Complete)

EPISODE 23: TOGETHER, AT LAST

MERCURY, NEVADA. 2040.

The silence has never been so loud. Their forks clink against emptying plates and Fiona can precisely hear the moment where Abin bites into the mushroom-substituted-vegan-cheese. Giuseppe watches this all from his rickety chair, leaning forward and staring intensely at them.

"It's delicious," Fiona says forcedly, using the distraction to gulp down as much as she can to clear her plate.

"And you?" Giuseppe whips to Abin, eyes lit with expectation.

"Phenomenal," Abin gasps, draining an entire glass of water within seconds.

Giuseppe jumps up and claps excitedly. "I have more in the kitchen. Let me top off your plates!"

Abin's eyes widen and he turns to Fiona in a panic. "I think we're quite satisfied–"

"No need to be so polite!" Giuseppe declares gleefully, already halfway to his kitchen. The door swings shut, the shoddy material of plastic flapping against the wall. Abin shoots Fiona a glare while the pots continue clanging around inside.

"I don't think I like pasta very much."

Fiona laughs, clapping a hand over her mouth to hide the sound from Giuseppe. "He's working with what he's got. There's a reason there aren't many restaurants around anymore." But still, she can barely get the words out through her laughter — Abin's barely-concealed disgust while slurping down the cricket-flour spaghetti was priceless.

Abin doesn't say anything in response, only looking at her with a slightly bemused expression on his face. He shakes his head slightly and takes another sip of water.

Fiona stops laughing. "What's wrong?"

"What do you mean?" Abin says, swishing the water around in his mouth to clear the taste.

"What are you looking at me like that for?"

Abin's mouth drops open as though horrified at the suggestion. "I wasn't looking at you. You were looking at me."

Fiona crosses her arms, confused as to why that's so offensive to him. "No, I only looked over because you were looking at me–"

Abin's cheeks are tinged with pink as he sputters. "No, you have it all wrong–"

They both fall silent when the bell at the front of the restaurant jingles, indicating the entrance of other diners. In the kitchen, Giuseppe continues to bang away, completely oblivious. But Fiona and Abin are totally frozen in their booth, both unable and unwilling to peek out at the newcomers.

"Do we just pick our own table?" A man's voice rumbles, stepping around and surveying the empty restaurant.

"I guess so," a woman responds, her voice somehow both light and sultry at the same time. "Geez. This place must have raving reviews."

"Oh, hi," the man says, as though surprised to see another soul, noticing Abin. Fiona doesn't dare turn around to make eye contact, just in case. But Abin simply nods in acknowledgement before they turn away to look for an empty table.

Chairs squeak against the linoleum floors as the couple takes a seat at a table in the corner, even further out of sight than the entrance to the diner. Abin tilts his head at the exit, as though suggesting they leave but Fiona points at the holographic that reminds them to pay for the meal as soon as Giuseppe closes the cheque. Only he hasn't yet, because he's grabbing them refills of that mushroom-substituted-vegan-cheese cricket-powder-spaghetti. Abin sighs frustratedly, realizing the same thing.

"God, what do I have to do to get some service around here?" the man groans, his deep voice coming off particularly whiny in the emptiness of the restaurant.