2019-10-13 - Coffee!

There's a gazebo at the park! It's out in the rolling plains, and with the weather turning chill, when Alexander arrives, it's unoccupied. His presence ensures that it stays that way as he settles on one of the benches around the inner walls. The sophisticated suit is gone; he's back to an oversized army jacket, t-shirt, and jeans. And what looks like an insulated bag of some sort - when he called Bennie for coffee, he mentioned that someone had given him and Isolde more food than they could eat, and suggested that they split some of the rest while they had coffee. Bennie, of course, was in charge of getting the actual coffee - as an EMT, he trusts her instincts on the java more than his own. He looks reasonably at peace as he waits - still watchful and twitchy, but some of the stress (and most of the murder) has drained out of his mind, and he's humming to himself as he people-watches.

The place to find good coffee is most decidedly not the Station, but his instincts as to where to find a good brew are tried and true. Most people know the easiest place is Espresso Yourself, but there is also a little gas station on the edge of town that somehow manages a black drip coffee that is both surprisingly delicious and affordable. So not only does this EMT know where to find such things, she also knows how to find frugal alternatives.

She's also become rather adept at transporting such things in her bicycle basket with the plastic flowers on front, and the Blonde arrives on her trusty two wheel form of transportation just a little shy of the wrong side of their meet time. In her purple polka dot rain coat over a a thin sweater and broomstick skirt, she swings one leg over to ride the last little bit sidesaddle, timing it just right so that she can hop off at the last second of the glide towards the gazebo. "Hey there."

Alexander looks up as the bike approaches and stands when she moves to sidesaddle. There's a brief, bright smile. "I feel like I should applaud. Should I? Is that a thing that people applaud? It was neatly done." He waves her into the gazebo, and settles back at a seat. "I see you brought coffee. I brought ratatouille cooked by someone with a great deal more skill than me. It has chorizo and...other...things in it." He's forgotten the ingredient list already. But when he opens the container and gets out the still hot generic tupperware and cracks the lid open, the smell is amazing. "I'll share mine if you share yours."

"Learned that sort of thing when I was a kid, that and when you let go of the bars and throw your arms out to the side? Never was brave enough to close my eyes though." Bennie leans her bike against a post of the gazebo, shrugging out of her rain jacket and leaving it draped over the seat. From the basket, she snag a cardboard holder with the two to-go cups and a plaid wool blanket. "Ratatouille, like the mouse in that animated film?" Her galoshes pad up the two steps that lead into the little covered space, "The other things aren't mice, are they?"

"No mice. I watched him make it from beginning to end, and no rodents were harmed in the making of this dish. Or involved in any way. Not even as chefs." Alexander throws her a warm sort of smile, and pulls out two small plastic plates from the carrying container, along with forks and a serving spoon. "You brought a blanket. Now this is a proper picnic." A glance at the dreary weather. "A proper Gray Harbor picnic." He offers to help take coffee or set up blanket, before serving out two plates of the fresh ratatouille.

Bennie lets Alexander wrangle the coffee as she sits on one of the benches. Instead of spreading out the blanket on the floor of the gazebo, she drapes one fold over her lap and holds out the other half expectantly towards Alexander and waits for him to settle. Because it is in fact a proper Gray Harbor picnic, which means protection from the rain and the autumn chill if such a thing is to be enjoyed outside the summer months. "You know, you're a great friend to have, Alexander. Patient. Loyal. And terribly protective."

Alexander blinks a couple of times at the offer, but after a moment, takes a breath and then moves to sit down across from her and drape the other end over his knees. He brings the plates, of course, and offers one to her, along with the fork. "Um. Thank you, Bennie." He frowns. "That sounds like one of those compliments that comes with a 'but' attached to it, though. Is there a but?"

Bennie tucks into her food as soon as it's handed to her, attacking it with gusto like it's been a while since she's eaten, or at least eaten anything of any quality or nutritional value. She covers her mouth with the curve of her hand while she chews, "Mmm." Comes the first part of her answer, as she waggles her head back and forth, giving herself a chance to swallow politely before answer. "No, not really. Just an observation. You're more than happy to share your food with me, yet remain vague on who made it for you. As if that friendship, and that shared moment, are sacred."

There's more blinking. "What? Oh. No, I wasn't--I just didn't think you'd know the kid. Although I suppose he's closer to your age than mine," he admits, "so maybe you do. It was, uh, Corey Jones? Freshman. He's a local, but," Alexander shrugs the shrug of a man who doesn't have a lot of opportunities to hang out with college kids. "He's got all the self-preservation instincts of the proverbial lemming, but he's a good kid. Likes to feed people." He eats more slowly, although not without some appreciation for what he's eating. "Sorry if I gave the impression I was hiding him, or something."

Bennie points out with a little motion of her fork, "Or maybe I spent too much time reading your books this last week, and I'm looking too much into things." Her grin is genuine and bright, and more importantly, less burdened than even a few days ago. "Well, pass along my compliments to Corey Jones. If it weren't for this and August's mercy I think my blood type would be Pepperoni Hot Pockets soon."

"Reading. Re-organizing." And no, Alexander still isn't over it. He levels a stern look at her. "I can't find anything! I ought to drag you back there to put each and every book back where you found it," he threatens, but idly, clearly not intending a word of it. He stabs a veggie, waggles it at her before he takes a bite. Once that's gone, he says, "So. Um. We're friends? And I know I've been pestering you a lot about how you're feeling, how you're doing, all of that. It's probably annoying. But I sort of wanted to pester you about...some advice. About friendship. But it might be. It's about the murder stuff, and it might be sensitive. For you. Is that okay? I don't have to ask."

"We are absolutely friends!" Bennie confirms, but at the notion that he is testing about asking advice, she sets aside her half-demolished plate to give him her full attention, complete with hands folding together on top of the blanket and a slight lean forward. "And I'm going to be honest, and clear, and stripped away of all the fluff you say I pad things with: you? Asking me how I'm doing? Even if I seem annoyed at times? Just realize, that knowing that you care enough to annoy me? Means a lot. So! Hit me, friend. What's going on."

Alexander smiles, briefly, at the assurance that they're friends. He doesn't put aside his plate, though. He pokes at his food, studying it like it's a dead body. "Honesty will be important. Yes. And I do care. A lot. You're pushy, but I enjoy your company. And value your friendship." It's all said tonelessly, but his sincerity is in the nervousness. Guilt settles across his features. "I. When we were all murdery, I tried to kill three people. Joseph Kelly, an out-of-town detective...and Captain de la Vega." His lips press together. "The first two were fairly straightforward. They were strangers. I was...direct. The Captain was not a stranger. I was efficient, rather than direct. I attempted to push him into committing suicide." He recites this without much emotion, although his face is twisted with self-loathing and guilt. "He no longer wishes to be...he would prefer that our relationship remain professional from here on out." A pause. "I will respect this, of course. I don't want to cause him distress. Or harm. But do you think there's a chance he might forgive me? In time? I wouldn't blame him if he didn't. But I just - wanted the opinion of someone who understands, and who I could trust."

It becomes an exercise in self control sometimes, when Bennie is around Alexander. A close friend that she can't physically comfort when he's in distress, and her fingers keep busy by knitting into and around each other instead of reaching across the short distance and laying so much as a hand on his knee. She knew of course about what Alexander had done during his possession when it came to coaxing someone to suicide, but not the who. "Sutton told me...you know he almost succeeded, right?" It's a difficult position, simply because of the players involved. When she poses the question, it's with a physical wince, as if afraid to be the one to deliver that news.

Alexander's eyes rise with a jerk. His face goes white. "He actually tried? I...I didn't know." He freezes. "But I did. I never touched him with my abilities, Bennie. All I had to do was--" his teeth click shut on the words, his expression goes dull. "It doesn't matter. That answers my question. Thank you." Now he puts the plate aside, not even able to fake having an appetite. He stares sightlessly at the blanket, in silence.

"No no no...you asked, and now we're going to talk about it. You get to annoy me? Guess what, Alexander. It's my turn to annoy you." Dammit, Bennie can't help herself as Alexander dulls down. Closes himself off. They have that in common, it just manifests itself in different ways. So the Blonde reaches out so at least her hand enters his field of sightless vision, patting the plaid flannel of the blanket lightly. Once. Twice.

"In this case, I think it was important that I break the partner code and tell you that. Yes, he tried. But she was there to pull him back. But that's nothing compared to what he put her through afterwards. You get my meaning, yes?" And if he doesn't, there is the visual cue of Bennie self-consciously touching her throat as if the marks were still visible. "So here is what I think. Yes, I think he will forgive you. But first he's going to have to forgive himself for the way he acted. And you both are going to have to accept that that monster is responsible. Not you. Not de la Vega. Not Easton. But it's going to be fucking hard. For everyone."

"I don't want to talk about it," Alexander snaps back, and it's very, very mature. He flinches at the tap on the blanket, hands coming up to scrub at his face. "God. Yes, I get your meaning. Fuck." He doesn't look at her, but on the bright side, he doesn't run screaming from the gazebo, either. Bright sides! "How can he?" he wonders, quietly. "How can I? He is - was - is my friend, Bennie, and I didn't just try to kill him. I know he would have forgiven me that. But I took what I knew of him, things he'd shared with him, and I used it to cut him to the core. And I knew what I was doing. It wasn't a blind rage. It was calculation. Maybe the rage was Gohl's, but Bennie - the methodology was mine. Entirely mine."

Bennie restrains herself from flinching at Alexander's snap, if anything, her jaw sets resolutely against displaying such a reaction. "I know you want to talk about it, because you asked me, Alexander. You just don't like what I have to say. And yes, I'm going to believe that you two can eventually get past it, just as I'm believing that Easton and I can. Because you're leaving one VITAL piece out of your explanation, Alexander. Yes. It was you. Yes it was your methodology. Yes, you might have known what you were doing. But you NEVER would have done it had you been in your right mind. Ever. And that is how you're going to forgive yourself."

There's a sad little broken laughing sound. "Am I ever in my right mind, Bennie? Am I ever really?" He rubs at the back of his neck, a muscle in his jaw working. He doesn't let himself argue with her further, though he still doesn't look convinced. Instead, his gaze lifts up, and he studies her with that flat, thinking face. "And...you and Easton. Bennie, how is that going?" Because talking about his friend's traumas is definitely more comfortable than talking about his own.

"de la Vega was friends with the you that was in your regular not right mindedness. That's who he confided in because he knew that that Alexander would never use that as a weapon. All bets were off when Gohl took up residency. My guess is, he'll forgive you long before you're able to forgive yourself." Bennie reaches for one of the cups of coffee, peeling off the plastic lid and blowing across the top lightly to cool it before she hands it to Alexander.

"Easton and I are...I love him, Alexander. That doesn't just go away. So I came to the funeral. I held his hand, because we both needed it. We comforted each other afterwards with sex, because we both needed it. But after that?" There is a shrug. Then a touch happier, "We texted! And our not-so puppy anymore is home. I'm still staying at Sutton's though. And. We'll work on it. Baby steps. I'm going to go see Gunner soon, and we'll talk."

Alexander takes the coffee on autopilot, wrapping both hands around it and bringing it up to his mouth. Rather than sip immediately, though, he just inhales the steam. "This is really good coffee," he murmurs. Then actually does seem to listen. And watch her with dark eyes. "I'm glad that you're texting. It's a start. And...I really hope that the two of you work things out, whatever that ends up meaning for you. You do love him, and I think he loves you. And that's," his smile is brief, barely there, but warm, "that's pretty important."

"The important thing I'm going to take out of all of this, and I hope you will too, Alexander. Is that we are all raw and fragile right now. But we have to be easy on ourselves if we're going to make it through this. If we're not going to let Gohl haunt us any more from the grave, even after we've put him to rest. We have to stop his echo. And you're not eating or drinking much, and I can't cure malnutrition so. Start being kind to yourself, friend. So you can keep annoying me, hmm?" Bennie takes her own brew and pops the top and does much the same of dissipating the steam with soft stream of air. "You know, in some ways? I think you know me better than Easton."

Alexander takes another deep breath of steam. Then, duly chastised by the EMT, he takes a sip of his coffee. "It is very good coffee," he repeats, with emphasis. Then falls silent for a bit. "All right. I'll try." There's a grimace. "Should I try to approach him? I mean. I did try, and he said he didn't want that. So I guess not. I should give him time." His brow furrows. "Right?" His eyes refocus on her. "Well, sure. I mean. I'm not in love with you. Love and objective observation don't really go together," he says, bluntly. "And you work very hard for people to not know you."

There is a laugh from Bennie, airy and light, that banishes a bit of the shadow that's been living underneath her eyes lately. "Oh, you might not be IN love with me but you DO love me. Otherwise I'm pretty sure you wouldn't tolerate me. You just weren't won over by my sunshine and rainbows. It's easier, in a lot of ways, to just hide behind that. Because to be truthful is so...exposing, isn't it? I just decided one day I wasn't going to be vulnerable, you know? And not because I'm afraid of being liked, I'm afraid of ...pulling people I care about into my shit."

She gives a firm nod. "Time. Everything is so raw right now, even the best intentions are going to sting. So go backwards. You two worked together before you were friends, right? Go back to the familiar. The safe. And you two will ease back into it. Just like Easton and I started with sex. It was our icebreaker. Work was yours and de la Vega's."

"I tolerate a lot of people, Bennie. And you are more easy to tolerate than most. We're friends. I care about you." Alexander shies away from the 'l' word, even in the context of friendship, but at least he's willing to concede that much. "And...I can understand the impulse. Honestly. But in my selfish way, I prefer you when you're real. And healthy." He shrugs. "Not that it's my choice."

The rest, though, he listens to carefully. Almost avidly; social things are not the investigator's forte, and so he's clearly hungry for guidance. "...okay," he says. "I'll try it. I'll give him time. I'll be professional. And," his expression turns grim, "and if it's too much, then I'll just deal with it. He's got too much on his plate to have to deal with another problem. I won't be one. I'll try to be useful, instead. I can be useful." A quick, brilliant smile. "Thanks, Bennie. I really do appreciate it."

"I mean, look what happens when I stop pretending everything is alright? I have search parties out for me, and text you in the middle of the night to mind meld me down from the edge, and then poor August has to spend his energy making sure I'm alright instead of preparing for the funeral. If everyone is just convinced I'm okay? All those people, you, would have been saved from so much. And that was just, like, one night! Can you imagine if I opened up about everything? I'd be wrapped in bubble wrap and passed around the town to be babysat." This time Bennie's laugh is a bit self deprecating as she goes about cleaning up from their meal.

"You are the most useful person I know, Alexander. And if you want to talk about this again, you know where to find me! Or at least how."

Alexander rolls his eyes. "There's a middle ground, Miss Oakes. Between everything being unicorns and rainbow farts, and coking yourself up to confront your magically homicidal boyfriend. And none of us want to be saved from it, you know. We're adults. We can walk away if we want to. But you're important to people. You're just going to have to suck it up." A flash of a smile. And then he nods. "It's kind of you to say that. And yeah, I do. And I will. And," a hesitation, "don't mention anything, about the Captain matter? People will try and meddle, and I don't think that'll help."

Bennie can only make a little head wobble again to the notion that she's important to people but when he mentions that people will be inclined to meddle, it causes her to smile wryly. "Consider it locked away in the Bennie vault. Thanks for meeting me for coffee! And for feeding me, even if it wasn't a plum. Sometimes I think I'd forget, until people shove food under my nose."

Alexander grins. "Sorry, the plums got spoken for. But it means that we should have plum pudding in a bit - I will certainly share some of that with you. If you like." He finishes off his plate, and starts packing things up. "And it's a pleasure. It's always a pleasure, Bennie. It's nice to have friends." A luxury that he doesn't take for granted, by the wistfulness in his voice. He studies her for a moment. "You should be kind to yourself. Even if it means leaning on other people, sometime." Then, lecture over, he stands, and smiles at her, before heading out into the chill autumn air.