<div class="floatright">(http://t3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTAK9_Qlhxy3QOMkqi-NaEYShJQtAm3rs2xZ0MDuHSGMIWNbiLb1A)</div>She really hoped Jack wasn't going to ask her too many more questions before she had time to think up a half way decent cover story for herself. Jordan never had been much of a liar, but the deputy thankfully, seemed to take her at her word. Marge came over with the coffee and an extra cup, looking world weary as ever. Nervously she placed both palms against the cup, feeling the heat of the bitter, black coffee it contained. She looked at Jack, trying to gauge him, worried maybe he was only playing dumb, luring her into feeling secure. He seemed to be genuinely absorbed in his menu though. His face was open, but it seemed almost too open, making him hard to read.<em>Or</em>, she reflected,<em>she was just getting really paranoid.</em><br/><br/>Jordan really hoped Cecil knew what he was doing sending her undercover like this. She would have felt a lot better if the station would have at least let her get one full day under her belt before giving her an assignment this serious. There was a huge chance that she would screw this up, and that was not how she wanted to handle her first assignment. Grabbing a menu of her own, as much to have something to do as to pick a meal the NCVR intern incognito was happy the questions had ceased for the time being. She took a sip of coffee while she looked at it, curling her nose at the flavor. Coffee was still something she was getting used to, and it took a lot of sugar to make it palatable.<br/><br/>Across from her the deputy announced he was going for pancakes, his voice was very official sounding, as if the pancakes were part of is duties. She still stared unseeing at her menu, busy thinking about what a pickle she had landed in. Jordan fidgeted her feet under the table, trying to avoid looking nervous. Rather than try to pick something out on her own she simply said, "Yea, me too," with a weak smile while Jack nodded, already putting his hand in the air signalling Marge to come back over. Less than thrilled the uniformed waitress arrived at their table, not even saying anything, just stood there with her ticket book. Jordan wondered why exactly they still had ticket books at the diner when they weren't allowed to have writing utensils.<br/><br/>