2019-06-02 - Fewer People. More Booze.

It's not even 8 and Easton has already arrived at The Pourhouse. He's punctual by nature, particularly so after the corps and well this isn't the type of thing he'd want to be late for anyway. He is shockingly not just wearing a muted color tee-shirt but has instead worn a plaid dress shirt, worn casually, untucked and rolled to his elbows. The usual dark jeans over scuffed brown motorcycle boots is unchanged though. He has a beer in front of him and is texting away on his phone, not really paying attention to the time.

The rain in Gray Harbor makes it hard to dress properly for a night out, so Bennie performs a quick change operation near the door where she shucks off a yellow rain coat with white polka dots and changes out of her galoshes for a pair of strappy sandals that match better with her homemade sleeveless maxi dress than the purple rubber affair.

Her overly large hobo bag is plopped down at the table and she slides into the chair next to him, greeting with a rather informal. "Ever notice how Delilah never gets to tell us what it's like in New York City?" Her smile is at its full glory, painted with an understated pink gloss.

The unceremonious plopping of the bag causes just Easton's eyes to lift up from the phone. He smiles though when he sees it is actually attached to who he's here to meet, and not just some random bag with a random person. He tilts his head at the question as a normal greeting dies on his lips. "I hadn't but I imagine her answer of it's crowded, noisy and smells like a mix of piss and burnt pretzel at all times was hard to work in thematically." He takes a moment to appreciate that smile, in all of it's seeming ease and radiance. It feels like a beacon from another world at this point. Blinking out of that thought he asks, "Can I grab you a drink? A light beer?" It's not that he means to remember everyone's drink orders so much as it's become very ingrained in him to do so.

Bennie's eyes sparkle with laughter at his description of the Big Apple, "Not to mention, what rhymes with pretzel? I think you missed your calling, you should have been a tour guide. You painted the picture so clearly it's almost as if I can feel the homeless man breathing down my neck on the subway." She rambles off with an animated use of her hands. "Light beer and a shot of tequila, chilled and dressed. But first," She crooks a finger for him to lean closer, and that look of laughter turns to mischief.

"Bezel?" Easton questions but doesn't seem satisfied that it's a close enough lyrical rhyme. He laughs and says, "Yes. That's what I should do here! Welcome to a town so fuckin' rainy and creepy they wanted to call it just gray, but the tourism board added harbor to try and lure in some new victims." Really it is a gift. He nods at the order and is about to get up, when he she beckons him closer. He leans in, with just a touch of mistrust in his eye, not sure where she's going with this, but also really liking that he's not sure.

The hand that beckons hooks around the back of his neck and Bennie gives him a light kiss on the cheek as her fingers toy with the short hair at the base of his neck with a light click of all the cheap dime store rings she's wearing. "Hi." She murmurs properly.

Leaning in, Easton's face breaks out into a grin as she kisses his cheek. Her fingertips brushing the nearly buzzed to the skin hair at the base of his neck causes him to lean into her hand just a touch. He doesn't pull away or seem at all concerned about her invasion of his space. He smiles back and utters a equally low and soft, "Hey." He brushes his lips against hers in just the faintest tease of a kiss before standing and giving her a wink before heading to the bar. And as promising a start as that is to the night, he can only think, I wonder if that's just how she greets everybody. She is, afterall, the most friendly up-beat person he's ever encountered.

Bennie is practically bubbling like a glass of champagne when he brushes that little kiss, the effervescence coming to a head with a little titter of laughter as he winks and heads off to get her drink. She doesn't immediately dive for her phone the second he's gone like most of her generation, instead she glances around the Pourhouse and gives a little wave to those she recognizes. More importantly, she does not invite over any strays this time.

The fact that he returns with two tequila shots, two limes, a salt shaker and a beer to find that there are no other random people invited over to the table is encouraging to Easton. Granted he was half expecting to just have to roll with that and he's not counting that out for the rest of the evening either. He sets drinks down and licks the corner of his hand between thumb and forefinger and salts it. He then asks, "So, I've been meaning to ask are you a local? Or a transplant like me?" He picks up the lime in his salted hand and waits for her to get likewise ready.

Bennie literally bounces in her chair at his return, like she has too much energy to be contained by a mere mortal frame. "Oh, totally a townie. Born and raised right here. I've never been out of the tri-county area much less to Seattle. Or out of the state. Or the country...well, you get the picture." She's reaching for the salt shaker and prepping her hand likewise, "Even when I was a camp counsellor over in Junction City I would just get so home sick, y'know?" She reaches for her shot and holds it aloft. "I knew you were an import. I definitely would have remembered those eyes from High School. So what are we drinking to?"

Laughing as she self identifies as a townie he listens a bit curious. It's a completely different life than the one he's lead and his eyes crease as she describes being 'homesick', a feeling that maybe he could recall from like his earliest days as a kid at boarding school but not really. "Yea, well I'm glad you didn't know me in high school, I was an ass. I mean I still am, I just cover it up better." Raising the shot glass he considers it for a moment and says, "Well considering all the toasts I know are super dirty, let's keep this a touch classier. To those we've lost." He clinks the shot glass with hers licks his hand, does a shot and then plunks the lime in his mouth.

"To those we've lost." Bennie says a bit more somberly, but thankfully that's the sort of thing that tequila is meant to chase away. A lick of the salt, a shot of the booze and her empty glass clunks down on the table as she sucks on the wedge of lime with a failing flap of her hands and a squeal at the puckering power of the fruit. She takes a life saving sip of beer before she exhales. "Surprisingly, that means we probably would have got along fine. Alright, now ask me again. Ask me how I got my name."

"I can't imagine you not getting along with anyone to be honest, but I do have trouble imagining you being mean." He doesn't seem to be even slightly phased by the tequila, which might read less tough guy and more alcoholic depending on her experience. He does take a sip of his beer though because mhmm tequila and beer. He quirks an eyebrow at her and says "How did you get your name?" Because really it hasn't occurred to him to ask but now he's curious.

Just like the first time he accused her of being a Benjamina, Bennie is clearly feeding him yet another line. "I was originally supposed to be Bonnie, but there was a typo on my birth certificate and my parents just rolled with it." There is a little rise and fall of her eyebrows, "Ask me again after a few more of those." Sweeping a fringe of hair behind her ear with a jangle of metal bangles at her wrist, she comments. "I was a certified mean girl back then. I didn't bully anyone or anything, but I was a snob without a leg to stand on. But, new leaf and all that. Where did you live before the service?"

Easton seems skeptical of the story but then offers, "Oh yea? Just like Oprah." He nods seriously as if of course that's what happened, but he laughs out loud when she tells him to ask again after a few. He nods and says "I'll be sure to do that." The comment about her being a mean girl gets rise of his eyebrows. He still can't really see it. "Me? Connecticut. I was the quintessential entitled jock asshole." He raises his glass and says, "I'll drink to new leaves, for sure. Hell, I used to vacation out here as a kid and I'm pretty sure I still owe some people apologies."

"Conneticuuuut." Bennie draws out the name of the state with some awe, as if it's an exotic destination like Tahiti. "Were you a rich kid? I bet you were a rich kid. Any one who vacations on a completely different coast counts as a rich kid." Enthralled in the conversation, she's happy to close the little bubble around them by propping one of her feet on the lower cross bar of his chair and letting their knees touch.

"Yup." Easton agrees at the state restating. He hesitates ever so slightly at her question about being rich and he waffles, saying "I certainly thought so. But turns out that's a very relative term. But by your metric, yea, I was a rich kid." By most people's metric he was a rich kid but he's still weird about it, and conflicted in how he relates to a lot of money things. He smiles as he feels her knee against his, letting his hand slide off the table and rest on her knee, drawing lazy circles with a thumb there.

"Can I ask a different type of question?" Hm, that seems a little less flirty and light than the prior tone.

Bennie's head tilts a little, and her eyes round out a little from their smiling crinkle. "Sure, you can ask me anything. But judging by your voice, I might need another shot after I answer it." They did promise each other more booze and less people this time around, and she's going to hold them to both of those it seems.

Easton is still smiling when he asks, though his voice is a just a touch more serious. "The other day, in the bathroom. You seemed surprised when you scanned me. Are you still getting used to doing things like that? Or do that cover that in junior high health here along with the super informative and mortifying your changing body videos?" He takes a sip of his beer, at least trying to hold up his end of the more booze deal.

Bennie grabs the hand resting on her knee in earnest. "You can't tell anyone about that. Look, it was just a thing. A...a...intuition. But if the hospital finds out I'm riding around in the ambulance doing that, I could...I might lose my job. And I can't afford to lose my job, Easton. Like, really really can't afford to lose it. I owe some very bad people some very large sums of money. Or rather my father does, it's a long story."

The hand grab doesn't even cause him to blink, he just nods and says, "I would never." He narrows his eyes and says, "You do know that I'm like you. Right? And I'd never do anything to put you in danger or cause you to lose yer job." The part about owing bad people large sums of money causes him to frown a bit. He says evenly, "I'd like to hear that story, some other time. But really, I hope you know I'd never say a fuckin' word."

Bennie's blue eyed gaze flicks frantically over his features, as if trying to find any crack in that promise. Then, as if compelled by his assurance, Bennie lurches forward and with a hand on his bearded cheek to guide her, she kisses Easton soundly and firmly on the mouth.

Easton may be chalk full of composure but he can still be surprised. He sees the look in her eye change just an instant before her free hand reaches up to his face so he's at least a little prepared for this kiss. He leans back into it and squeezes her leg under the table in appreciation during the kiss. After he pulls back slightly to observe her with a light smile. He reaches out mentally and comments << nice >>. His mental voice is now less choppy and intense, as he is starting to get a hold on that on. He still can only send smaller phrases or single words but he's coming along.

Bennie is likewise smiling, but her eyes are still closed and she momentarily rests her forehead against his. Her expression looks like a mixture of relief and happy delirium at having wanted to do that for quite some time. It's not until that word seeps into her brain that she leans back, like he shocked her with a tiny spark of static electricity. Her voice lowers, "Did you...did you do that?"

Leaning against her feels the closest to a feeling he's long since forgotten. Her own mentalist abilities should be able to feel the shift in his overall emotional state to an actual calm peace from the usual tightly wound spring that he is. He watches her for a moment with her eyes closed and just smiles dumbly until she asks. He nods and says outloud, "Yea, I've been practicing. There's others, who are .. way better." He stops and looks at her a moment before saying, "You ready for forward?" He waits only half a beat before saying, "Come home with me tonight. Even if it's just for a more private place to talk.." Okay so he still hedges his bet a little by pretending there are other reasons. But her saying he was stuck in neutral and taking the initiative means it's probably fine to push a bit.

Bennie leans back so he can see the entirety of his face, her gaze narrowing with a look of bemusement. She tears her gaze away with a light laugh and a little toss of her hair, the tilt of her head edging towards coyness. But then there is a slight nod, so negligible it might be missed at first if she weren't adding verbal confirmation to it. "I'll get my coat, you get the tab?" Though really this should warrant a least a few more rounds. Presumably he has booze back at his place. "Did you ever shin-proof your coffee table?"

The buzzing of his phone is ignored once and then twice as he waits for her answer, though he wouldn't have asked if he didn't expect her to say yes. That's not the type of issue you bring to the table if you aren't at least pretty sure you have the votes. He nods in assent and goes to pay the bill in the process checking his phone. He groans a little and scrolls messages. He looks at Bennie, getting her coat, all ready to make this happen and he hands his card to the bartender with a defeated sigh.

When she comes back he says, "I'm so sorry to ask this, but can we take a detour first? A friend of mine got roughed up.. at a thing. I said I'd check in on them and make sure they get cleaned up, but then on to my place?"

The personal bubble long since dissipated, Bennie slides her hand down his arm when he comes to greet her by the door. "Of course." She confirms with no dim in the sunshine in her voice, even if it is tinged with a touch of concern for these friends of his. "Whatever you need." Because, really, she'd give the shirt off her back if someone needed it, and that no doubt extends doubly to Easton. "We're going to need to take your ride though, it would take us forever going dutch on my bike." And by that she means bicycle, as in the sky blue one parked outside with the big wicker basket attached to the front.

Easton isn't really big on personal space in general and easily wraps an arm around her as they exit. He's not wearing a jacket despite the perpetual threat of rain and current thunderstorms. He points out a red jeep, a few years old but in good shape and says "That's our ride then." He picks up the bike easily on the way and jury rigs it to the spare tire with a couple bungee cords he pulls from the trunk. He's good and wet by the time he gets in the jeep, but not the least deterred. He leans over to kiss her cheek and says, "Thanks for understanding, apparently they're at the Huckleberry park."