2020-07-16 - Unexpected Topics Over Coffee

Lucas has found himself a table near the ever present line, he sips on his coffee and tries to wake up a little, preparing for the coming overnight shift.

It's too hot for professional wear. Which is probably why Beth looks so hot. Not hot as in damn look at her but hot as in damn someone get her a glass of water. Her long black hair has been put in a bun on the top of her head to keep her neck cool. Still the black pantsuit with neat blouse can't be cool. She comes into the coffee shop and fans herself with an unopened letter while she tips her head back just a little to keep her black rimmed glasses from sliding off of her face as she stands in line.

Lucas glances toward the woman in line, and shakes his head, "Why...why would you even wear that in this heat, much less get a hot drink" He smiles and sips his drink a little more.

Beth takes her phone out of her pocket and begins scrolling through it as she swelters in line. Lucas's question causes her head to turn as she looks at Lucas for a long moment at his question. "I have a job that requires professional dress....?" The end of her question picks up a touch. Like she's also asking a question or is confused by his question. She shakes her head softly as her turn to come up to the counter arrives, and she steps forward to order an iced coffee and a few cookies.

Lucas is of course in a t-shirt, jeans and suspenders, He waits till Beth makes it through the line, not interfering with her ordering, when she does step away though he says, "Not trying to be offensive just..." He waves, "You look kinda miserable."

Beth receives her iced coffee and steps out of line towards the tables. She finds one under the air conditioning vent and sits down. She taps the paper-covered straw on the table to get it out of the wrapper before she pops it into the top of her drink and takes a long sip. When she lets off she says a little dryly to Lucas, "Well, looks aren't deceiving."

Lucas smiles and nods, "What kind of job makes you have to dress so... elegantly?"

Beth takes another long sip from her straw. The cup is shaken once she's finished and the straw re-positioned to get more of that icy goodness. Lucas's question causes her to regard him again for a moment. "I am a funeral director." She finally shares.

Lucas nods "You work for the Lawsons, that explains it, they have a reputation for being a bit on the stuck up side, not as bad as the Addington's but enough, i think my Sister went to school with one of them"

Beth just sort of gives Lucas an incredulous laugh when he says this, her head shaking a bit, before she takes another long drink from her plastic cup. "Yeah. They're kind of terrible. Almost exactly like the Addingtons but well..." Her voice drops a touch, "They're actually kind of worse. They aren't even rich." She makes a little face.

Lucas shakes his head, "But they /are/ well respected and they do a real vital thing for the community, it's ok to be proud of things like that. Doesn't make them the people you invite to parties though."

"Uh huh. That's interesting." Beth begins standing up from the table with her mostly drank drink. She continues to smile. "Well, I'm Beth Lawson. I didn't realize we were a bunch of snobs so sorry about that." She takes one final sip off of her drink before dumping it in the trash. She then adds in a sugared voice, "Anyways, you have a good night now."

It's a summer evening on a weeknight. Olivia pulls open the door to the coffee shop and steps inside from the warm, still-not-quite-dark evening beyond. She's wearing a casual, striped tee and a short, black skirt with heels, looking both relaxed and put together as she steps into line to order a drink. She glances at the cell phone in her left hand, her bag hanging from that forearm as she uses both hands to type something on the screen with her thumbs. The line moves forward, she steps one person closer to the barista without looking up. Her phone chimes, she exhales a huff of breath, then lifts her right hand up to run her fingertips through her blonde hair. She glances up: her turn at the counter. With a faint smile for the barista she orders an iced latte in a larger size. "To go, please."

Lucas shakes his head and at least has the grace to look sheepish, "I am sorry....I have a big mouth and don't think much before I let my mouth take over" He rubs his forehead.

"It's fine." Beth says quickly to Lucas as she maintains that easy smile. "But some friendly advice? if you talk about some families in town like that you're going to end up getting jacked in the jaw by someone's first cousin twice removed." She lets out a little huff before adding crisply, "Don't worry, though. The Lawsons are pacifist snobs." That said she starts heading towards the door, but happens to turn her head a little to spot Olivia. "Olivia! Hi! How are you?" She turns away from the door to start towards her classmate.

Joe's got that nearly feline air of smug good humor in place. The sailor's in white t-shirt under a camp shirt with a pattern of 50s era geometric motifs worn open, dark teal on aqua, faded dark jeans, and boots. Looks like a tourist, but he's here enough to get greeted by his name by the barista. Phone in hand, but he doesn't seem to be fooling with it.

Olivia has just retrieved her credit card after paying for her iced latte, leaving a couple dollars in the tip jar, and thanking the barista, before skimming around to the end of the counter where finished drinks can be retrieved. She finally looks up to scan the place while waiting for her drink just in time to catch sight of Beth. A startled smile curves at her lips and she slowly shakes her head. "Beth Lawson," she announces in return, closing the space between herself and the funeral director. "I'm dreaming, or there's a basketball game tonight and we're both headed to mack on Tommy Mulligan at the after party. Some of us with permission. The others not so much." Olivia lifts the arm not currently balancing her purse and half-hugs Beth with what seems to be genuine delight. "So you stayed." In Gray Harbor. More of that long-time-no-time has passed bit of astonishment. "What are you doing with yourself these days?" Her iced drink is up, the name 'Olivia' is called, and the blonde simply ignores it for now. Where's it going to go?

Stefhan often finds himself in his favorite coffee shop time and time again. Laptop case in hand, he pauses after he enters and inhales at the sweet aroma of the bean juice. It's familiar to him by now and he smiles a slight half smile. The computer man is dressed in his typical, neatly pressed suit and he glances about to see if his one of his 'typical' places is available. Likely a good number of the faces are not too easily recognizable but then he notices the blonde haired woman and he whistles a little. It's not a 'wolf whistle' but clearly one of those 'damn' type of whistles. Then..oh crap yeah, that was FAR from professional. He tries to cover his remark by making a fake cough and to try to put up more of a front he takes his free hand and brings it to his mouth. "Oh, I need some coffee. This cold that's going around in my office." But, there's no cold going around in his office, just a blundering fool obviously finding a woman attractive and now trying to cover it up.

Lucas chuckles softly, from his seat, taking one more sip and finishing his own cup, He takes the rebuke in stride and then watches the interaction between Olivia and Beth eye brow raised as he notes it.

Beth lets out the dreamiest of sighs at the mention of Tommy Mulligan who clearly was quite the stunner at seventeen. She laughs outright at the mention of some of them not having permission as she returns Olivia's half-hug warmly. Or as warmly as one can while avoiding sweating on a classmate. "Yeah. I stayed. You know family business and all. The good news is if I want to go out and nearly get blood poisoning from drinking bad vodka and kool-aid I don't have to construct a rope out of bedsheets and swing my ass out of a window." The bridge of her nose crinkles a bit in mirth. "I'm running the funeral home now. My dad retired last year. So how are you? What brings you back?" She glances to the counter. "I can sit a bit if you want company. But if you are short on time I have a card. we can catch up."

She turns her head a little when she hears Stefhan whistle at Olivia and she stares at him a moment before looking back at Olivia. "Wow. I didn't know people actually did that."

Joe turns a surprised look on Stefhan, as well. Not terribly shocked or censorious....and then he grins. "Hey," he says, as if assuming it'd been directed at him. "I know I'm a lot to take in at first glance, but you could at least buy me dinner first, 'fore treatin' me like a sex object." Poor Stefhan.

Then he's ordering an iced coffee, complete with salted caramel. It's been one of those days all around, it seems. A glance to Beth, and he gives her that easy smile. "Hey, 's been a while since I ran into you. How you doin'?" Olivia....gets dropped a wink.

Stefhan coughs again and yeah, it's a cover up, and for those who are perceptive, it's likely a bad one. Joe's comment does put him at ease though and he chuckles. "Oh, I would think I would have more manners than that but, I don't think there's dinner offered here. If you fancy a cup of Joe I wouldn't mind obliging you." Then, he goes over to try to find a server who is NOT blonde to order a 20 ounce cup of sweet, stout, blackness.

Olivia nods a bit at Beth's sigh in an I-know-right bit of sympatico about the high school jock who was on everyone's wanna-list. Her smile warms further to inclusive laughter at the woman she clearly knew well in younger years. If Beth is summer-sweaty, Olivia hardly seems to care if her warm hug is any indication. She looks her high school classmate over, head to foot and back up again, "You're looking great, Betty." High school nickname? There's an inside joke there somewhere that people who shared a high school experience in a small town seem to have. "The family business, huh. Those are pretty big shoes to ... bury. Did you go full anatomical preparation? Because if you did, I'm buying you drinks that are alcoholic in nature and we're going to talk stories in the immediate future. Or maybe I'm buying you drinks regardless." The blonde notes that the funeral director is still in her formal work-wear. "You're not working tonight, are you?"

Blood poisoning on cheap alcohol surreptitiously in high school. Olivia's laughter is quiet, a roll in her throat. "You were always so creative with those stories. You should have become a novelist." She considers the woman and then adds, "We won't get blood poisoning, but we'll have a hell of a good time. Even in Gray Harbor." Especially in Gray Harbor. "Do you like the work? Yes, yes-yes-yes. Come sit down and talk with me if you have time. But give me your card, too. Better yet, just give me your digits." The woman who walked in composed and dignified seems to have regressed a bit at the unexpected run-in with an old friend. "Hold on a second." She pivots on one heel and reaches over to the drink counter to pick up her iced latte, then catches at Beth's hand and tugs her over toward two comfortable chairs with a low table in front of them. "You're going to dish because I'm woefully uninformed about Things in town these days. I'm just back ... ah ... less than a month now." What brings her back? "I'm a Crim-Psych at the GHPD. Definitely persona non grata for the time being." She mocks a frown before smiling again. "I'm enjoying the challenge. It's worlds different from Seattle." Where she spent her post college years is implied.

Beth's turn causes Olivia to catch up to the sound of the whistle; she, too, turns and she arches a brow in Stefhan's direction. With an amused expression she lifts her drink at the bold man and simply turns back to Beth. "Seems like a Harbor sort of thing to do." She shrugs it off with a light roll of her shoulders. Joseph's reaction, however, drags her gaze: blue eyes sparkle with mirth. The wink receives a bit of a smile in response. Back to Beth. "Sit. I demand it. Is Tommy still in town? Are you two dating? Do you have eight kids?" Her tone is teasing as she sinks down into the comfortable chair, sips her iced drink, then sets it down on the table and her purse on the floor beside her feet. Her words aren't loud enough to include the entire establishment in the conversation, but neither are they hushed. Pleasant. Warm. Delighted.

August comes in, fresh off his last appointment for the day. Which apparently was one hell of a job, because he's got a few scratches on his arms (cleaned up, one partially bandaged), his denim jeans are distressed in an authentic manner that wasn't done in a factory, and there's a couple of stains on his dark gray shirt. He has his workbag slung over one shoulder and a black hoodie draped over it, unneeded on this warm evening.

When he approaches the counter the barista's eyes widen at the sight of him, and he holds up his hands in a mea culpa, with a side of 'maybe don't tell Ellie'. She sighs and takes his order, and per the routine of the last few months he tucks his money into the tip jar. Only once he's turning to look for a seat does he spy familiar faces: Joe, Beth, Lucas. Stefhan he remembers as well, but not Olivia. He gives Lucas an upnod, angles towards Joe. "How's it going, Cavanaugh."

Joe's just handed his iced caramel whatever, and looks up from it just in time to spot August. "A'right, Roen. What about you? You look like you spent the day sortin' wildcats." Maybe not a tourist then, despite that 'don't give a fuck' sartorial choices. But then, he's heading towards the old man event horizon at speed, isn't he, even if there's only a little silver in the dark gold of his hair. Then he's nodding towards one of the free tables, in lieu of a real invitation.

Stefhan just gets a grin and his drink lifted in salute, for being a good sport about it. "Thanks, but I'm set." Apparently he doesn't intend to keep teasing the blond man. At least not now. There's August to hassle for the moment.

Beth lets out a huff of amusement while lifting a hand to push her glasses up her nose. "Me? No. Liv you look amazing. Seriously. A man just whistled at you inside a coffee shop." Oh poor Stefhan is clearly never going to be allowed to live that one down. As for what she went in to career-wise she nods her head in a reserved manner while the corner of her lips pick up a touch. "I did. And I will have to be nearly poisoned with alcohol to divulge my secrets."

When Olivia catches her hand to pull her towards the seating again she laughs brightly and lets herself be tugged over. She sits down next to Olivia and opens her own purse to get her card out. A pen is taken out, "Here. I'll write my personal cell on the back. And no shit?" She asks when she's informed that Olivia is now working at the GHPD. "I think you'll be the one with interesting stories. Not me." She laughs outright. "Alas Tommy moved for college and never returned, to the sorrow of every woman ten years our junior or senior in Gray Harbor. No, I'm not married. Or seeing anyone. Just went through a breakup so that was fun." She says the last part like it was in fact not fun. At all. "What about you? Are you taken or does our whistling friend have a chance?"

Joe's greeting is returned with an easy smile of her own. "I've been good. Busy. How are you? Have you met Doctor Kincaid?" The last part is said with some flare and a bit of a cheesy smile at her old friend. When August comes in he gets a friendly wave and a nod.

The door's shouldered open, and in prowls a cop. By the look in his eyes, he needs him some joe. That's little j joe. The kind they serve in a cup. "Blond roast," he tells the barista in a low, rough murmur as he digs out his wallet from the back pocket of snug fitting black jeans. There's a badge clipped to the belt, and ID with his picture on it. Battered black leather jacket thrown over top, ball cap tugged over his eyes like it might help obscure his identity as the acting Chief of Police in this podunk town. He flits his eyes over a few of the patrons, once he's paid; a twinge of a smile at one or two that he spots. Someone mutters something to him in passing that doesn't sound complimentary, and the smile drains away, and he watches the guy move for the door. Quickly, like he's perfectly aware that lingering might be a bad idea, after insulting a guy like de la Vega's racial heritage.

Stefhan offers August a nod in greeting then takes his cup with his free hand. When the grin is offered in his direction he replies, "Thank you, maybe you saved me some embarassment and nothing was noticed." Yes, his 'preferences' can often cause any notion of having rhetorical grace to go out the window at times. But then he looks over at a table and begins to ponder what magazines may or may not be there. "If I do wind up with a large home one day, a library might be in order."

"A lesser wildcat cousin, the Himalaya blackberry bush," August says to Joe, tone dry. He sees Ruiz come in, gives him an up-nod. His eyes track the departing person Ruiz is staring after, and he's momentarily tense. But no, it's not who he's worried it would be, so he relaxes a second later.

Catching Joe's motion towards the table, he moves that way, sits with a wince. "Had a small problem when I was working on a redcedar. Wound up tangling with a blackberry for my troubles." He sighs, slides his workbag off his shoulder. "Ms. Lawson. How the hell've you been."

Beth's compliment earns her a slow shake of Olivia's head. Or perhaps it's the proof that follows. "It's not really the beholdee who is responsible for such things," she argues with a companionable smile. "I don't think that was directed at me, precisely." Olivia watches Beth write out her personal number on the back of her card. "My cards aren't in yet, but you can have one of my old ones. The second number is my cell." Business cards are exchanged. Olivia tucks Beth's card into a side pocket of her purse. She nods ruefully. "Absolutely lacking in shit. If you want to sound cultivated, you could say 'forensic psychologist' but the other way just sounds more badass and less television melodrama."

"Then we'll make a date for drinks and stories. Whoever 'wins' doesn't have to pay. Those are the stakes." Olivia will brook no argument on that count. "Where are we having these dangerous drinks? I doubt Colleen's basement is the place to be any more."

Of course Tommy moved away. "How sad for the women of Gray Harbor," she murmurs mournfully, her blue eyes still smiling. Learning that Beth is newly out of a relationship, Olivia reaches for her iced java, "Divorced two months ago." The drink is lifted in toast. "Good riddance." She takes a drink and rests the plastic cup atop her bare knee. She glances back over the Stefhan. "I'm not really in the market for a repeat experience. Though he has pretty hair. Maybe you should whistle at him."

With interest, Olivia watches Beth greet nearly half the current occupants of the coffee shop. One face after another is considered along with the name Beth speaks. Should Joseph notice when Beth speaks to him, the doctor chimes in quietly, "Just Olivia. I have a hard enough time sidestepping all the baggage that goes with doct--" Ruiz prowls in. Olivia either recognizes the interim chief or something in the exchange with the hurriedly departing other man catches her attention. "--tor. It has a slanderous cast at the precinct, for the most part." Her glacier-blue gaze slides back to Joseph and August, past them to Stefhan, then returns to Beth. "You are more than welcome to hold tightly to your secrets. For now. But we'll get some scotch in you and see what happens." August greets Beth and Olivia watches the exchange with interest.

"I'm okay. Mos'ly been sailin' and relaxin' this summer," he says to Beth, affably. "I'm gettin' spoiled by retirement." He doesn't look old enough to be retired, but... Then that guileless blue stare is turned on Olivia. "No, haven't had the pleasure," he says, hastily juggling the cup to his free hand, and extending the inked right one to her. "I'm Joe Cavanaugh, pleasedameetcha. Olivia it is, then."

Only to have his gaze immediately dart to the cop who's just walked in, and his grin goes a little soft around the edges. "Hey, Javier," he says, with evident affection, waving the younger man over to the table August has already claimed for them. At least one person here is clearly delighted at Ruiz's advent, and completely unable to hide it. To August, he says, "Man, I bet. If they're anything like the blackberry canes I had to deal with growing up back east, you'd have an easier fight out of a mountain lion."

Stefhan drinks a rather large amount of bean juice from his lukewarm cup and decides that business will likely need tending to for now. He looks down at his laptop case to make sure it's secure within his fingers. That gets a mark of approval and the cup is put aside. Sure enough, it's time for him to move on and when he comes closer in Olivia's direction, one may notice a hint of a blush as he walks past. Then, when he thinks he's a safe enough distance he whispers, "Gorgeous" Before moving out the door.

"I'm alright. How are you? I see you're still letting plants beat the everlovin' heck out of you." Beth says amusedly to August.

Olivia's suggestion of going out and drinking earns another laugh. "No, I suppose Collen's is out. There is the Pourhouse. Although apparently since I am a Lawson I am far too posh and snobby for that locale." This is said with a little smirk tossed in Lucas's direction before she looks back to Olivia. "Two if By Sea is nice. We could embarrass ourselves at the dance club by being the old people on the dance floor. And bonus when I get liquored up enough in heels I start lumbering about like Frankenstein. Or an ungainly baby horse. So you'll have that to look forward to." She gives Olivia a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry. But also congratulations. Got any little ones?"

She then nods her head in understanding. "I understand your position on calling yourself Doctor even if I disagree, and will refrain. That is Mr. August Roen. Mr. Roen this is Olivia Kincaid. She is a prodigal daughter of Gray Harbor returned." A glance is given to Ruiz simply because everyone else is looking at him and she gives him a friendly enough smile in greeting.

"Sailing? Gosh, what a life. I have been meaning to drop in and take you up on that invitation to use your pool still." This is said to Joseph.

Coffee collected, sugar and cream eschewed, Ruiz procures a lid for his coffee and snaps it on before taking an experimental sip. It seems to pass muster, and his cap's brim is given a little adjustment before he heads on over to August's table. "Hey, Roen. Cavanaugh." Flick of his eyes to the departing Stefhan, and his odd deportment toward Olivia, who receives a twist of his mouth that might qualify as a smile, if wolves could be said to smile. It lingers a moment as he studies her, and the passingly familiar Beth, and then the cop kicks out a free chair with his boot and drops in with a huff of breath. If his knee bumps Joe's as he does so, well, surely that's by chance rather than design. A sip then, while he settles in to pick up the beat of conversation.

Cecil steps aside as Stefhan leaves, then catches the door before it closes so that he can step into the place. He has dark circles under his eyes, which isn't all that unusual. The man keeps odd hours. On one shoulder he's got a computer bag that's bursting and probably uncomfortably heavy. On his way to the counter, he perks up to see Joseph and August's familiar faces, and he lifts a hand to them in a subdued wave. Ruiz is given a polite nod. Then it's on to acquire caffeine. Tea first, then conversation.

"Yep, same fucking genus," August mutters to Joe, working a thorn out of his jeans. He wraps it up in a napkin, glaring the whole time. Tonight is a hottub night, oh yes. He grins up at Beth, shakes his head. "'Let' nothing. You take your eye off 'em for a moment and the next thing you know, you're digging your way out of two feet of bramble." He sighs. "Paid well, at least."

He nods at Olivia as Beth introduces him, eyes hitching in the manner of someone noticing someone else with Glimmer. It's there and gone in a second. "Pleased to meet you, Ms. Kincaid. I hope the place is just as," a small sigh, "homely as you remember it."

His name is called, and he heads up to fetch his drink. Heat or no, August can be relied on to drink only one thing in a coffee shop: a soup-bowl sized mug of cappuccino. He brings it back to the table along with a muffin. A small wave for Cecil when he comes in, then August is resuming his seat with a wince. He takes a sip of his coffee, which seems to help, because his expression eases.

Olivia switches the iced drink from her right to her left hand and slides her fingers against the material of her skirt to dry them from the condensation before rising to reach over and shake Joseph's offered hand, her hand soft and cool, her grip firm. His ink doesn't escape her sharp gaze. "It's a pleasure..." She lets the statement drift off, hoping for a name in return from the sailor. The man's attention slides away and Olivia resettles into the comfort of the chair beside Beth's. But what follows is an introduction to August. This man she recognizes from the funeral. Arctic blue eyes soften. "Mr. August Roen," she echoes Beth. "It's a pleasure to meet you formally." The so-named prodigal daughter's return? "I didn't run off to prematurely squandor my inheritance. But there was definitely some sort of return. A much better one now that Beth is here to dance awkwardly with me. Thanks for your help last week, Mr. Roen." Just as homely. "I'd say it's refreshing my memory." Ruiz joins the two men at the table near the two chairs where the women are seated. "Having coffee, I see, Captain." The words are pretty matter-of-fact, though there's some caprice in there somewhere given the tone.

Back to Beth. "Posh and snobby? What have you been up to since high school, Betty?" She listens to the options for said drinking. "I'm not opposed to dancing. I can swing my geriatric ass as well as the next senior citizen." Beth's commentary draws another quiet roll of laughter from Olivia. "I don't think you should be allowed to make Frankenstein jokes any more than I'm allowed to tease about handcuffs, Beth. You're a director, after all. Of funerals." Because Beth needs to be reminded.

Olivia leans into her elbow on the arm of her chair closer to Beth. "If the dancing must be equine in nature, I'll make it work." The sorry-congrats are appreciated for the parsing if Olivia's speculative smile is any indication. "What? I've got a sweet Volvo that I love as dearly as a child. Does that count? No pets." Apparently children don't even get a mention.

Beth's comment makes Joe laugh a little. "Yeah, pretty much livin' the life of Reilly," he agrees. "I mean, that's how I got here, by boat....and it's a lot more fun takin' her out on day trips than wrestling up the Pacific coast in winter. You should, I'll buzz you in, just say when." Olivia has him wondering, "You a medical doctor, or...." A flick of a glance at Javier, "I guess you'd work with de la Vega, then, you said precinct."

He doesn't hitch closer to Javier, but he's obviously tempted. Someone's pretty awful when it comes to passing - God only knows how he managed more than two decades in the military, even before 'Don't Ask Don't Tell'. He keeps giving the cop these little looks out of the corner of his eye...and finally gives in to impulse to lean over and leave a hasty kiss at the corner of the dark haired man's mouth. Well, there goes that attempt at discretion. Then he's eyeing August's bowl of cappucino. "Looks like you could go for a swim in that thing." He lifts a hand to wave at Cecil.

"Goodness. Two feet? It's amazing you escaped with your life." Beth says a little teasingly to August. Her smile widens a bit at Joe's comment. "I should have came last winter. Would have been nice to go for a swim in a heated pool when it's cold out." She averts her gaze subtly when Joseph leans over to give Ruiz a peck because it is rude to watch people kiss, and instead catches Cecil's appearance in the coffee shop. Her gaze lingers on the stranger briefly before she looks back to Olivia.

At the posh comment she laughs, "Oh, I was just told today that the Lawsons are nearly as snobby as the Addingtons. By jove I think we've finally made it big." The last part is said in a very bad English accent. She lets out a snort when she's told she's not allowed to tease about Frankenstein, "Well, that's what we're going to have to resort to to get dates at least I have a fresh supply and easy access." She nods her head very seriously, "It certainly counts."

Cecil spies Joseph giving Ruiz a kiss, and he's suddenly very interested in the counter, and the barista, and ordering a mug of Earl Grey tea. He doesn't glance back over at the table for a bit, until it dawns that pointedly not looking that way is going to seem weird now that he knows they're there and they know he knows. So he glances toward the table again and offers a small smile while he waits for tea to happen. Beth's bad English accent gives him a mildly pained look, but he seems good natured about it. Finally he gets his tea, pays for it, leaves a nice tip in the jar, then looks around. Now what.

One minute, Javier's watching rain spatter the window in bright, fading flumes quickly evaporated in the sun. And the next, a blond's leaning in to kiss him. His dark eyes do a little double-take, like the public display of affection was completely unexpected; though it coaxes a rare, guileless grin out of him. Dimpled and quick, eyes slivered with the warmth of it, and they're slow to track away from Joe. "Afternoon, Harvey," he greets Cecil, voice dark, rich with the remnants of that pleasantry. A sip of his coffee, the inked knuckle of his thumb rubbed through his beard. If he's aware of how suddenly awkward multiple people seem to be, all because of a little peck on the not-quite-lips, he gives absolutely no indication.

"I do, once in a while," he tells Olivia, meeting her blue eyes for a moment. "Sometimes even with other people. Fucking mindblowing, isn't it?"

August blinks slowly at Olivia over the rim of his mug, almost frowning. It takes a second, then recognition clears his features. "Oh, right, from ah," he looks askance at Ruiz, clears his throat over whatever he was going to say. His tone and expression shift to something more serious. "Not a problem." He follows that with a small nod, attention drawn off Olivia by Joe leaning in for that kiss. His gaze flicks between Olivia and Ruiz at their exchange. He asides to Joe, "If I could swim in it, I would," and gives him the mildest, most innocent look he can muster. "Coffee's my favorite flavor."

Addressing Beth is a solid way to not give in to the desire to smile after saying that, so he does, pointing a chunk of muffin at her. "You dig through two feet of blackberry after getting knocked into it, we'll see who's laughing." He's smiling as he says that, despite how it sounds. Nodding at an empty chair not too far from the group, August says to Cecil, "Take a load off. It's not a bad, this place wasn't made for drinking while standing."

Joseph's entire persona seems to fascinate Olivia if the way her blue-eyed gaze returns to him once and again is any indication. "Criminal Psychologist," she answers, then dips her chin to the jump in logic Joseph makes about the stated location of her employment. "de la Vega and I are acquainted." Probably not necessary after her canny observation that the captain is drinking coffee, but she replies with a warm gaze nonetheless. The not-quite surreptitious kiss has Olivia tipping her head to one side toward Beth, and not nearly so willing to afford the men privacy and most certainly observing that grin of Ruiz's. To the woman beside her, more quietly, "My apartment has a pool, but I'd choose the sailor first, too."

If her posture and expression are any indication, Olivia is enjoying Beth's company and attitude. "Caviar wishes..." she intones, also in a faux British accent. As for procuring 'dates', "Oh no, Beth. You went there." Her chiding tone is far too solemn to be serious. "And of course Ronny counts. I took her instead of the furniture." Ronny might be the car. Belatedly, "We do not have to resort to anything when it comes to dates. They will come to us. Most likely when we're dancing like... what did you call it? Newborn colts? So sexy."

There's a man named Harvey. Olivia does keep track of such things, a sweep of her gaze over the man with the tea. Fucking mindblowing. Olivia turns her attention back from Beth to Ruiz (and the men he's sitting with nearby). "I've heard the rumors. So, not so much mindblowing as mind-breezing."

August's recognition draws another smile from Olivia. It takes her features from matter-of-fact to warm and perhaps a bit inviting, though not so much suggestive. "Digging through Oregon blackberry might be near the bottom of just about any list I have."

There's precisely no shame in Joe's demeanor. If anything, he seems like he's somehow convinced that no one else noticed. Javier's reaction just makes him grin, pleased, as if he's proud of having gotten away with it...but he doesn't dare a second time. "Yeah, it's a real luxury, and I was sure as hell glad all winter I picked Bayside."

To August, he says, "No wonder you've got a hot tub. I'm glad I got access to one. Nothing like soaking in hot water when the pins start complainin'." Then he's seconding August's invitation by kicking out a chair. "Roen's right."

To Olivia, he says, cheerfully, "I heard that."

Cecil offers August a grateful smile as he approaches the table. "Captain," he says to Ruiz. "If you can pencil me in this week, I'd like to meet with you." His accent is English, and it's pretty good, given that he's from England. He takes a seat and says, "Hullo, Joe, hullo Roen." Olivia and Beth get a polite smile by way of greeting. "How is everyone today?"

After another sip of his coffee, Ruiz can't help but point out to August that, "You're full of shit, Roen." Why? Because, "Anyone who claims coffee flavoured edible underwear is their favourite, is full of shit." It's as if he's having an entirely different conversation. What the fuck is he talking about, anyway? Edible underwear?

His cap is tugged off then, and Olivia gets an odd look at the mind-breezing comment. No riposte from him, though, as he rifles the heel of his hand through the hat hair he's going going on there, and replaces the ballcap with a little twist to settle it in place. "Pencil you in," he repeats after Cecil, and blows out a sigh as he digs for his phone. "Depends what for."

Beth gives August a look of pure sympathy when he mentions being pushed into brambles. "And here I thought you were just clearing out a patch somewhere. That sounds terrible."

At Olivia's comment about choosing the Sailor she presses her lips together to hide her amusement. "Well, you don't have a boat." She points out before saying a little louder to Joe, "You know who is really good at sailing is Liv here. If you ever need a...uh, gilligan. You know. A first mate. I think that's what it's called but unlike Olivia I don't know shit about boats." Is Olivia good at sailing? Beth actually has no idea if she is or isn't. That little 'fact' dropped she moves on rather nonchalantly as if she'd never said it at all.

"Of course I went there. The best part about being a mortician is all the jokes." She holds a hand out as if to say 'can you blame me?' "Oh they'll definitely come to us. There is nothing more attractive than thirtysomething women too tall to be wearing heels trotting about a dance floor drunk while desperately trying to keep their skirt down because gravity failed two shots ago."

She looked away at the kiss as if it weren't a big deal, but the mention of coffee flavored edible underwear makes her head jerk towards Ruiz. "Huh." She says aloud.

August coughs a laugh at Beth. "Oh, if only. And, thanks. It wasn't the highlight of my day." He tips his head at Olivia. "Like she's saying, don't settle. Men are trash, you have to make sure to get the pick of the dumpster. Anything less isn't worth your time." He sips from his coffee, gives Ruiz a deadpan look. "I didn't say coffee was my favorite flavor for edible underwear. Just my favorite flavor." He bobs his eyebrows. "I don't have a favorite flavor of edible underwear, that stuff's terrible."

He nods at Joe, nose wrinkling. "Taking the hits was easier when I was younger. Sooner or later I'll have to let the kids do all the tree climbing, stick to the bucket and the shop." He sighs for that, but he's not about to stop climbing trees. Not yet.

And now, he looks at Cecil. "Not too bad, now that we're on the topic of favorite flavors and edible lingerie."

Cecil takes his phone out as well to look at his calendar. For a man with zero social life, he does keep busy, and he thumbs through his days to see what he has free. "I'd like to discuss some of my findings with you. I've found something very interesting." That can't just be written down, apparently. The talk of edible underwear is politely ignored. Sure, he's now picturing Ruiz in edible underwear, and he can't unsee that, but he keeps calm and carries on.

To August, he says, "Oh, yes. It's a topic I'm very excited about." While there's nothing technically reproachful in his tone, every vibe emanating from his entire being strongly implies he's not being entirely sincere. "On an entirely unrelated note, I got the cats. Then I met someone who seems nice, but he's deathly allergic." Because it is in the nature of the Cecil to suffer.

The dynamic bouncing around the table of men adjacent to where Olivia sits with Beth does not escape the doctor. She tips a brow at Beth, her own unspoken commentary, then lifts her iced drink for another swallow. To Joseph, "Probably best that you did."

Beth is speaking up ... on her behalf. To Joe? "Betty..." she warns, though her amusement steals the thunder from that tone. She follows Beth's stream of consciousness with another sip of her drink. "I'm betting it's not the best part of the job," she asserts mildly. "But that can wait for drinks and dancing." Beth continues and Olivia deadpans, "We have to desperately try to keep our skirts down? That seems like it completely defeats the purpose of a short skirt." She then adds. "On a dance floor."

The man called Harvey wants an appointment with Ruiz. August's favorite flavor is coffee. Ruiz is bringing edible undergarments into the conversation that Olivia is half inserting herself into and half observing without apology alongside her high school friend. And then August offers advice for dumpster diving for men? She actually lifts the lid on her iced coffee and sniffs at it, shakes her head, reseals the lid. "I tried settling once. Wasn't for me." Her attention slides back to the Brit. Very interesting things. Olivia probably can't help it when her gaze sharpens just so.

"No, you definitely fucking said coffee was your favourite flavour," Ruiz tells August without looking up from his phone, and his blond roast. The one they serve in a cup, rather than the six foot and change seated next to him, that is. "The one with Isabella and her shitty drawing. Look, I can bring up the goddamned conversation, if you're going to try to wriggle out of it. You want me to find it? Because I fucking will." He points at the botanist with the edge of his phone in what's probably supposed to be a mock threatening manner.

Then back to Cecil, and he tries to refocus on the fact that the guy wants to talk to him. About something very interesting. "Uh, you want to stop by the precinct tomorrow? Grab lunch?" By which he means the terrible cafe in the lobby. The one with all the health code violations.

"I'm fine. How're things treatin' you?" Joe's in Golden Retriever mode, determined to be friendly with everyone, and thus favoring Cecil with that lazy grin. Only nursing his iced caramel whatever along.

Then he's peering between August and Ruiz, "Wait, coffee-flavored edible underwear exists at all?" Of course he's setting his drink down, in favor of consulting the great god Google. A glance up at Beth's statement, then he's favoring Olivia with a bright-eyed look. "Oh, that's cool. Where'd you learn to sail?"

Sympathy for August, and an inked fist held out for a bump. "Yeah, tell me about it. I'd trade this mess in, but I already scratched the paint, bent the chassis, and voided the warranty a million miles ago." To Cecil, "Aw, those kittens you had the picture of, the other day?"

To Olivia, he just clicks his tongue sympathetically. No argument that men are trash. God knows, he's acted trashy enough, long enough.

Beth smiles and shakes her head a little before she laughs lightly, "I'm joking. I don't plan on dating again for a long time." She exchanges looks with Olivia and shrugs just a little. Joe's enthusiasm about Olivia's potentially invented boating skills causes a little grin to split her lips. "You should take her out sailing with you. You know. Make her swab the deck or something like that." Because clearly a sailboat deck needs swabbing a lot.

"Well, I have to keep my skirt down because I have to go to Mass the next day with my mother." Beth says Very Seriously in a low whisper. "And then I'll have to do all of that...uh, you know. I'll take up a lot of the priest's time in confessional and then my mom will be mad because my promiscuity means we were late to brunch at Cracker Barrel and they ran out of the Sunday special fried chicken before we got there."

Another look is given to Ruiz as the discussion about flavored underwear continues. She looks like she'd like to say something, but they don't know each other so she keeps it to herself. Instead she murmurs to Olivia, "...I don't think that's how favorite flavors work."

Cecil checks his phone and frowns as he sees he is in fact free tomorrow at lunch. He looks at Ruiz. He's familiar with the eatery in question. Still, he'd rather eat his own face than cause a fuss, so he tells Ruiz, "I'll see you then, Captain." A questionable burger won't kill him. Probably. He smiles at Joe and searches on his phone for pictures, and he shows one off, it's a ginger tabby and a torbie cat, both about a year old, sprawled on a couch in a tangle of paws and tails. "They're inseprable," he says, "and quite sweet. It's kind of nice to have someone to come home to. Someone who doesn't mind the hours so long as the kibble dish is full." Maybe that's where he failed with his marriage: there was no kibble bowl. He wraps his hands around his mug and sips his Earl Grey, and his eyes lid with pleasure. There's nothing wrong in the world a cup of tea won't make better. After a moment, he says, "Edibile lingerie can't be good for you. It's either artificial sweeteners, which taste awful, or it's sugar, and that's just begging for an infection."

"They don't," August asides to Joe, accepting the fistbump in kind. "Mostly just cherry and...something else, maybe grape?" Thus, he assures Ruiz, "You may feel free to look it up, I won't be embarrassed if I misspoke," gesturing with his mug. "Coffee might be my favorite flavor," he's having trouble keeping a straight face every time he says that, "but edible underwear are just plain gross. They taste like...cellophane." He grimaces, washes away the thought with some of said coffee. His gaze slides to Beth. "I assure you, my favorite flavor is, in fact, coffee."

He snappoints at Olivia when she talks of settling. "See? No settling. Insist on a guy who's worth your time. Otherwise you're better off with," now he nods at Cecil, "pets." He glances sidelong at Cecil. "Sorry," he murmurs, probably meaning the topic. "Picked out names for them yet, your cats?"

Ruiz grows rather ardent in his dispute with August. Olivia lifts the hand not holding her drink up to cough mildly into her hand. Or laugh. To August she comments after lowering her hand, "He seems pretty certain, Mr. Roen. Though I share your distaste for edible clothing on principle."

Joseph actually takes Beth at face value about the sailing. "Don't pay Beth any attention, ... is your name Joe?" Certainly she heard the name at some point. "I've been sailing a time or two -- and enjoyed it -- but I would never claim to have sea legs. Or a passable knowledge of knot tying, knottery, knot-sense, whatever it's called." She waves the hand holding her drink as if to smooth over the whole topic.

Laughter spills from Olivia as Beth worries that bone a bit more. And it involves swabbing now. No more argument. Just amusement, pure and simple, teasing at her blue eyes, curving a reckless smile from the doctor.

"Nonsense. You will make that priest's week." Promiscuity and Cracker Barrel and fried chicken, and Olivia's continuing amusement. "Beth Lucille Lawson." Harper doesn't know Beth's middle name. "This weekend. A cadaver-less intervention. I've got plenty of skirts." In return to Beth's under her breath comment: "I don't expect edible underwear has rules that make any sense at all." She flickers her blue gaze between Ruiz and August, then to Cecil.

By the time August reiterates his favorite flavor the fifth or sixth time, Olivia is simply watching him. No more drinking her beverage. No more teasing of Beth. A level, not-unpleasant, assessing gaze rests on the man half-eaten by Oregon blackberry brambles. Snap-point! She startles with an amused murmur. "Mmm," she replies neutrally.

Ruiz is still scrolling through his calendar, checking and double-checking that lunch tomorrow with Cecil will work. He mutters to August while he swipes with his thumb, "Need I repeat that the point of edible underwear is foreplay, not taste?" Then in practically the same breath, "Suena bien, nos vemos luego," with a crisp nod tendered to Cecil. Something's noted in his calendar, an unrelated text message returned, and he shoves the phone away before slanting a brief glance Beth's way. Possibly he's aware of the occasional looks she's been sending him.

"It's nice to see you again," he offers, a little awkwardly. Witness de la Vega attempting to be personable. "You a friend of Doctor Kincaid's?" Dark eyes travel back to pale blue at the segue, and hold there even as he's tapping his knuckles to Joe's, and leaning in to pitch something low into the older man's ear.

"I'd never make a landsman swab the deck," Joe says, mock solemnly. "It'd be cruel and unusual punishment. Not that there's a lot of deck to swab on the Surprise, she's small." That corner of his mouth curling up and up at her whispered explanation.

Then he's leaning in to admire the pictures of the kitties. "Right? I used to think about having a cat or two, but I wasn't around enough even for them."

Then he pulls a face at the idea of edible underwear. "You make me feel better, Roen. Somehow coffee'd be a bridge too far." Back to Olivia, he says, "Yeah, Joe Cavanaugh. Well, where'd you go sailing?" he persists. Then he's attending to whatever Ruiz is muttering in his ear, and he nods, thoughtfully.

Beth's lips twitch upwards as she resists the urge to giggle at August's assertion. "No. I mean like..." She holds her hands out to gesture as she speaks. Because this will require hands. "I'm not disputing that your favorite flavor is coffee. I'm disputing that it means you'll enjoy everything coffee flavored. Like edible underwear for example." A pause. "This is a strange conversation for a coffee house. But also it makes sense because it's coffee oriented?"

The Beth Lucille gets a cackle from the incorrectly named woman. "Fine. But you'll be the one explaining to my mother why she has no Cracker Barrel chicken come Sunday."

To Joe she asks, "Wait. Swabbing the deck is actually hard?"

"It's nice to see you again, too." Beth says, smoothing away any remains of somewhat immature laughter from her face as she responds to Ruiz. "Yes. We went to high school together. I'm glad she's working with the police now. She was always really smart so it doesn't surprise me she's gone so far."

Cecil pockets his phone and says, "The shelter named them Theodore and Esmerelda. It was pointed out to me by a local the other day that those names were sufficiently British, but I swear I had nothing to do with it. I just kept their names because I couldn't think of any better ones. I suppose I'll call them Theo and Esme." He tries to play it cool, but there's a warmth about him when he talks about the animals. He might just be a softie after all. "You can come see them, if you want to. They're very easygoing. They like strangers. Esme's a little standoffish but she gets over it pretty quickly."

He takes another drink of his tea, then says, "One could argue that coffee-flavored edible underwear tastes nothing like coffee, just like real watermelon and watermelon-flavored things taste nothing alike. Our friend here enjoys things that actually taste like coffee, which coffee-flavored lingerie surely doesn't."

"And need I repeat that no one is going to be turned on with the taste of cellophane in their mouth." August jerks his head at Cecil. "That too. For ladies, anyways, it's less a problem for men, if still a thing you can wind up with. Another turn off. No thanks."

He eyes Olivia at that gesture, arches an eyebrow and gives her a small, sly smile. Then he has a sip of cappuccino and admires the photos of Cecil's kittens. "Now look at those lovelies. They'll be destroying your furniture and climbing your fridge before you know it." He says this fondly, like a parent might when showing pictures of their child's masterpiece in crayon covering a wall.

"Ah," he says to Beth, nods in agreement with Cecil. "Yes, that's the case. Plenty of coffee 'flavored' things I don't care for." He shudders at Joe's assertion. "Cellophane coffee would be a bridge too far."

Ruiz to Cecil. Plans are made. Olivia continues her unapologetic observation. She cants her head minutely as the topic shifts to foreplay. There's a blithe sort of expectation there to see, a what-comes-next titch of curiosity. Ruiz speaks to Beth, so Olivia leaves her high school friend to answer. After the captain makes his inquiry of Beth she murmurs simply under her breath 'Olivia' as if the single word is a long-standing argument of some sort. The low-pitched private-public interchange between Joseph and Ruiz is watched with the same assessing, almost intrusive gaze that rested on August not a minute previous.

Where did she go sailing? "The Sound." Then she provides more specificity, "Puget Sound."

"I don't think a night out dancing like an awkward colt in a skirt that's too short precludes fried chicken, Betty. I'm quite confident you will manage both."

Olivia actually reaches over to tap a single fingertip lightly against Beth's lips by the time she gets to 'she was always'. "Shush. You were there at high school." Light tap-tap.

Cecil's description of the cats receives an interested look. But then the conversation has made its way back to edible underwear. "Completely superfluous." Olivia takes another drink of her iced latte and shares a significant look with August. Perhaps it's a meeting of minds. "A bridge too far," she echoes quietly and glances off toward the windows to the darkening summer evening outside.

The cop sips his coffee, resists the urge to roll his eyes at August. "Look. If you're sitting there thinking about how your lover's edible underwear tastes, at that stage in the game, then you're fucking doing it wrong. Period." He tosses back what's left of his coffee, and his phone buzzes again, prompting him to dig it back out and respond to whomever keeps texting him while he's trying to discuss terrible ideas for smutty products. A brief tick of his eyes to Olivia - or, perhaps more specifically, her finger - when she taps Beth's lips. Then back to his phone, brows furrowed as he responds to his message.

Joe shakes his head. "Nah. Swabbing's just mopping. It's not hard, but like....I wouldn't make someone new to my boat do that. No more'n you'd invite a new friend over and make them clean your house. Hell, I didn't have to swab the deck even when I was on big ships. Officers never have to do that shit." Joseph, Princess of the Seas.

"Good names for 'em. We used to have barn cats that were friendly as hell - the minute you started tending to the horses, they were in your face, purring," he adds.

Then, to Olivia, "I haven't made it there yet. I was originally planning to winter further north, but ended up here..." Whereupon he's unashamedly craning his neck to see what texts Ruiz is getting.

"I had a cat when I was a boy," Cecil says. "I've always been rather fond of them. Except at crime scenes when they walk through blood spatter, and having to explain that in a report." Beause that's happened, apparently. "So far, these haven't been too much trouble. Theo did set off my security sensor at four in the morning, though. He stuck his face right in it." There's an odd fondness to his tone. Sure, they're a pain in the ass, but he loves them. Ruiz's phone gets a curious glance, but he doesn't try to read what's being typed. Instead, he looks to Beth and Olivia and says, "I don't believe we were ever introduced. I'm Cecil."

With an uptipping of her brows, Olivia looks from Ruiz to August. Is the man going to take that sort of disparagement lying down? There might be some unspoken wagers going on behind those blue eyes. She drops her fingertip from Beth's lips back to rest her hand loosely atop the black fabric of her skirt as Joe speaks up. "An officer. I don't think I'm surprised, Cavanaugh." Last names seem to be her go-to until she's been told otherwise.

Joseph hasn't made it to Puget Sound? This visibly surprises the doctor. "It would make a lovely summer weekend," she suggests, seemingly aware that if the man has done the sailing he's described, he's quite aware of what there is to be seen on the Sound. Her gaze flickers from Joseph to Ruiz and back again. Texts. Her drink is nearly finished.

"It has been lovely to meet you interesting souls. And Beth? Call me." Olivia pushes to her feet with a wince that is almost imperceptible, then she waves the nearly empty cup in her hand. "Enjoy your Thursday evening, all edible underwear aside." She names the rest of them as well as she knows, in order from left to right: "Cecil, Captain, Cavanaugh, Roen. Good evening."

Beth gently takes Olivia's wrist to pull it from her face and smiles serenely. "She was a really good student." She concludes to Ruiz, and says nothing else. A glance is given to the kittens on Cecil's phone screen and she smiles a little. "They're cute."

"Officers don't have to work up from the bottom?" Beth asks Joe in surprise. "I guess I thought if you were an apprentice officer or however it works you just did all of the stuff no one else wants to do. That's how it works in my line of work. Well, unless it's something no one else wants to do but if the newbie messes it up it's a big deal."

When Cecil introduces himself she smiles, "Beth Lawson. Nice to meet you."

August gives Ruiz a puzzled, long-suffering look. "Are you anosmic? How could I not be thinking about how something tastes when the whole point is to be turned on by eating it." He pulls a face. "Cellophane. Cellophane and gym socks. Ugh. No."

He sighs in comiseration with Cecil for the alarm issue. "I had a motion sensitive light in a spot where the animals kept setting it off. Eventually had to adjust it so it'd only go off at certain heights." One shoulder lifts in a brief, helpless gesture. "Good names, though."

Like Olivia, August is surprised Joe hasn't been to the Sound. "Yeah, that'd be a fun trip." A sidelong glance at Ruiz, back to Joe. "Nice, late summer vacation, maybe." He bobs his eyebrows in a suggestion. Shifting in his chair, he says to Beth, "There's different kinds of officers. Non-commissioned, and commissioned. Has to do with how you join up, that sort of thing." He raises a hand to Olivia in a goodnight.

Captain de la Vega is a good many things, but a word nerd is not one of them. So when August whips out the obscure.. whatever the hell that is, the Mexican just sort of squints at him. "Uh, gesundheit?" he offers helpfully. A quick message is fired off in return, to Thorne, according to his contacts. Then Joe's given a little mock snap of his teeth as if in warning, and the phone's switched off and shoved away again. To Olivia, in that warm, smoke-roughened murmur, "Que tengas una buena tarde, Doctor." His gaze follows her out, before switching to Beth. "Navy does the flying, Marines do the dying," he opines while easing back in his chair. And, "Officers are princesses, one and all."

"Nah. We got enlisted sailors for that," Joe says, in his very best 'let them eat cake' voice. Ruiz knows that one oh so well.....and the first time he heard it, he did his best to remove some of Joe's teeth, by hand. With his knuckles. "I mean, junior officers definitely have to do things their seniors don't wanna do, but even the most junior officer is above the most sention enlisted sailor."

Then he favors Olivia with an innocent look. "What, the air of entitlement gave it away?" he wonders, amused. "And yeah, it's on my list." Whereupon he slides a thoughtful look to Ruiz. Late summer vacation indeed....and his birthday's coming up. "Have a good evenin', ma'am," he wishes her.

Back to Javier, and he's frankly smirking. "Oh, c'mon, de la Vega. Y'all got pilot officers of your own, now. Even if the vast majority of Uncle Sam's Misguided Children are still grunts."

"What's the difference between commissioned and non-commissioned? It doesn't matter if you're really good at soldiering? You never just get promoted to officer?" Beth inquires curiously with an inquisitive glance between the three men explaining it. When Olivia gets up to leave she nods her head in agreement. "I definitely am." Her attention turns back to the conversation at hand. "So there are a lot of things enlisted men know how to do that officers don't know?"

Cecil inclines his head to Olivia as she leaves, and then he settles into listening. The conversation has wandered into territory where he has nothing to offer. The man looks like a swift wind could knock him on his ass. He's definitely never served. Besides, it's easy for him to settle back with his tea and fade into the background.

"Anosmics can't smell or taste very well. In some cases, at all. So they wind up being more itnerested in textures than smell or taste, and will eat some really weird stuff as a result." August pauses there, gets a look on his face, gives up. He explains, "I dated one, for a while. He'd make some crazy sandwiches."

Accusations regarding Ruiz's ability to taste aside, he raises his cappuccino at the summarily proven comment about princesses. "Amen," he says, and has a drink. He's maybe three fourths through.

And now, Beth has asked a question which gets a lengthier explanation than she maybe wanted, but at least it involves less mocking. For the moment. "Non-commissioned are enlisted folks. You come in as young as 18 knowing not a fucking thing about life in general or the military in particular. You can get an officer rank, but it's still," he points at Joe, "considered a lower rank than a commissioned officer. Commissioned officers are 'commissioned' because they come in via training of some kind. So, a degree, a military academy, ROTC program, officer candidate school. It's specifically a career military focus, where-as a lot of us enlist because, honestly, we need the money." Another of those helpless shrugs.

The smirk's mostly gone, as Joe answers. "Functionally, in the modern US military - the difference is a college degree. You get routed into officer candidate school, if you didn't graduate from one of the academies intended to produce officer graduates. That's what I did, for instance. I went to a civilian university, and then OCS when I graduated. Now, a college graduate can choose to just enlist, but mostly that doesn't happen. Officers are intended to be leaders. Enlisted....you usually need the equivalent of a high school diploma."

A beat, and he goes on, "But in all honesty, a lot of it is class-based. Not as much as it was, in say, the UK. Now, very rarely, you can be enlisted and get granted a commission under extraordinary circumstances, which jumps you up, but...it's a once in a blue moon thing. Like...one of my favorite fiction series is about an English soldier in the Napoleonic Wars who gets a field commission for saving the Duke of Wellington's life. But....he wasn't raised as a gentleman, so he's forever tripping over the social divide. The Sharpes books, by Cornwell."

Then he's lifting a hand, as if to forestall Javier, "Or, as he'd put it....officers are pretty princesses who don't know their asses from a hole in the ground, and enlisted men are the backbone of the armed forces and the only ones competent to do more than get stuck up a tree like a lost kitten."

Because he did get stuck up a tree, once.

And get rescued.

By Ruiz.

In Afghanistan.

Joe and August, chatterbox extraordinaires, seem to have the explanations well in hand. So Ruiz listens in idly while checking his watch and (very unsubtly) digging out his lighter. Which, to Joe, is probably some giant hint for, let's get the fuck out of here so I can grab a smoke before I start eating peoples' faces.

Beth listens and absorbs what is told to her with a thoughtful expression on her face. "Huh. For some reason I guess I thought the military wasn't super classist, and that anyone could become a general." She concludes this thought with a shrug of her shoulders before she gives Joe a more curious look. "You know it's odd. I've always read you as real blue collar. No offense. It must be the boat." Even though sailing is clearly for the posh and fancy. She begins standing up from the chair then. "Anyways I should go. Well, it was nice seeing you all. Have a good night." She gives a final polite smile before heading towards the door.

Cecil offers Beth a smiles. "Nice to see you," he says, and he takes another drink of tea. Finding the mug almost empty, he drains it and says, "I should get to the lab at some point today." He keeps the mug in hand to bus it on his way out. "Captain, Joe, Roen, it's always a pleasure." He smiles, close-lipped but friendly, and he heads out as well.

August mmms at Joe, eyeing him about that lost kitten comment. "Well, that's what happens if you don't practice jumping out of planes regularly."

He nods at Beth as she gets up to go, chokes back a laugh when she refers to Joe as 'blue collar'. "Sadly, the military isn't spared the stratifications of our society. Have a good night, Beth, it was good to see you again." And since Cecil's parting as well--and Ruiz is maybe five seconds from grabbing Joe and leaving--he pulls out his tablet. Once Eleanor's done here in the shop, they'll head home. "Night," he calls to Cecil.

Joe, at least, has sense enough to laugh at that. "Nah," he says. "Not in the least blue collar. It's the name, I guess." Then he's bobbing his head. "Night, Cecil," he says, even as he waves farewell to Beth. Then he's rising from his seat. It's definitely time to call it. Especially when Ruiz gets that look.

Ruiz opens his mouth to say something. Probably something about the colour of Joe's collar, and certainly with a hefty dose of indignant incredulity thrown in. Because this is fucking Cavanaugh they're talking about. But in the end, he simply opts to follow the taller blond's lead and push to his feet, tonguetip skimmed along a canine as he works his way out from the table they'd all been seated at. "Nice to see you again, Miss Lawson," he settles on in a low murmur. Cecil gets a nod in farewell, August a rap of knuckles to his shoulder, and then his arm's slung around Joe for a few moments as he directs him toward the door. A quick murmur before he pulls away.