2020-08-25 - Lost, then Found

Cecil stirs on the couch and groans into his pillow. With whiskey comes a whiskey hangover. "Kill me," he mumbles as he lifts his head, and he rubs his eyes. His hair is wild, the cowlicks having a heyday. He fumbles for his phone, then groans again. "The cats are going to kill me."

It's a good thing that Niall set up the couch before they had much to drink. It's actually fairly comfortable, and with the cushions off, it's nearly as wide as a single bed. There's even a towel and a facecloth sitting on a nearby chair, along with a little amenties kit emblazoned with the Qantas Airline logo. Inside is a toothbrush, toothpaste, little shampoos and conditioners, an eye mask, and various other bits useful for an unexpected houseguest.

Niall peeks over the balcony from the loft sleeping area. "Well, that's a call for coffee if there ever was one." He doesn't look quite so rough. In fact, he's already dressed, in a mustard yellow t-shirt and stone wash jean shorts. He walks down the steep stairs. "I didn't want to wake you. Need some aspirin?"

"I need to feed my cats," Cecil says. "They have kibble, but they want the wet food in the morning." So no, the cats won't actually starve if breakfast is late. He sits up and smiles blearily at Niall. It's epic bedhead. He's like a modern-day British medusa. He pushes his hand through his hair and asks, "Did I snog you last night?"

Niall makes his way to his kitchen and fills the electric kettle with water and sets it to boil. None of that boiling a pot of hot water on the stove like a proper human. He then pulls down a French press, hits a button on his coffee grinder (yes, fresh ground coffe - again, a proper human) which is thankfully not massively noisy. "I'll take you by your place after you've had a cuppa. And let you rest a bit if you need, but I've also heard from the gent, the friend of Henry's. So we've a spot to check out when you're feeling up to it." As for the question? He pauses, and then, "Well, technically I snogged you."

Cecil says sleepily, "Brilliant." He's skinny in his undershirt, looking around for his button-up. "I just need to put down some wet food for them. God, I'm owned by two small furry tyrants." He rubs his face, then pats around for his glasses. "I think after some coffee I'll be up for whatever." He pauses, then asks, "How do you feel about the snogging?"

"Well, I think that's a question for you," says Niall with a warm grin. "Or do you not remember?" When the kettle pops, he slowly pours the hot water over the coffee grounds, rotating it so the water is distributed evenly. Between the fresh grind and that motion, the cabin starts to smell like a coffee roastery.

"Oh, I remember," Cecil says. "I may or may not have been replaying it in my mind all night." He looks toward NIall sheepishly. "Anyway, this is the awkward part of the conversation where I ask you if you have any regrets. And I'm doing it before coffee. There must be something wrong with me." He finally finds his glasses and puts them on. It helps with the finding of the button up, which he snags and starts to put on.

"We took it slow for you, Cecil, not for me," says Niall as he leans on the kitchen counter, eyebrows lifting. "I'm the one who's done this before, remember? You're the one smoochin' boys for the first time." He opens the cupboard and hooks down a pair of mismatched mugs. One's a Vancouver tourist mug, the other is a National Parks Service one.

Cecil pushes his hand through his hair again, trying to tame it down some. "Well yes. I don't have any regrets. But I did warn you, the bedhead might terrify you. You could end up waking up next to this someday. He smiles stupidly and then laughs a little at himself. "I'm just curious what you're thinking."

Niall pushes off the counter and crosses the room to Cecil. Then he reaches up, and if allowed, starts to finger through the other's hair, to push it into something like order. And, well, also just enjoying the feel. "I'm thinking...you need to decide if you'd like me to do it again. Or if you've changed your mind."

"That's what I was wondering about you," Cecil admits. He leans into the touch, and then he takes Niall's hand in his. "I do want you to do it again. Like, a lot. I'm afraid this town has taken away the last shreds of my heterosexuality that the divorce didn't." He considers this, then nods to himself, making his peace.

"You know bisexuality is a thing, right? Or, so I've heard." Niall grins. "You apparently have functioning queer-dar, or was it just a wild guess about me?" He twines his fingers with Cecil's. His are long and strong, and calloused from his job. "I never thought I read especially gay, but maybe everyone was just being polite."

Cecil admits, "I had no idea. I mean I know about bisexuality, but I didn't know about you. Not until you didn't think it was weird when I called you adorable. I think most straight men would be offended. I thought, maybe you might not entirely object to the idea." He clasps Niall's hand, his own soft from work behind microscopes and desks. "Besides, it's my job to notice things, pick up on cues. I still wasn't sure. I was only sure you wouldn't beat the crap out of me."

"High stakes flirting, this gay dance, yes," says Niall. He looks amused, but in a warm, fond sort of way rather than anything derisive. "A calculated risk. But maybe less calculated because I was wearing a loud shirt at the time, maybe?" Perhaps. "Tell you what, Doctor Not-a-Doctor." He leans over, picks up the Qantas amenity kit and hands it to him. "Go brush your chompers and I'll smooch you again. Not to not be romantic, but morning whiskey breath kinda takes the edge off the magic." And to soften that a little, he kisses the back of Cecil's hand.

Cecil takes the amenity kit and says, "Right. I'll be right back." He steals a quick peck on the cheek, then rises to his feet in his boxer and undershirt, the button-up on but not buttoned up. Motivated by the promise of smooches, he hurries off to the bathroom to brush his teeth. It's not the fastest hurrying, what with the pounding headache slowing him down some.

Niall's place is pretty neat and minimalist. What he does have in terms of furnishings is good quality and looks mostly hand-crafted. The bathroom is also neat, but it's also a place that gives him away as being a little less than straight. There are a number of personal care items that look like they're from Whole Foods with lots of enviromnetally-friendly stickers on them and names that suggest they smell nice. "There's some painkillers in the medicine cabinet if you need it," he calls, then returns to the kitchen to press the plunger on the French press and pour them each a measure of coffee.

Cecil smiles to himself when he sees the stuff Niall's got in his bathroom. He's quick to brush his teeth, and he helps himself to some of those painkillers. Then he splashes some water on his face and tries to finger-comb his hair. He manages to at least get it out of his eyes, and then he emerges. "All right, now I know you're not straight. Snogging could be a lark, but the bathroom doesn't lie."

Niall smiles a little sheepishly. There might be a bit of a blush as well. "I could just be a hipster?" Throat-clear. "What do you take in your coffee?" He nods to the Vancouver mug. He's already doctored his own.

"You're not tedious enough to be a hipster," Cecil points out, and he holds out a hand for the cup. "I'll take it black." He catches himself just kind of watching Niall, then glances away, a little color coming to his cheeks. "I hope you're okay with me being both new at this and it having been a long, long time since I've last tried this."

Niall closes the distance, cup in hand. He starts to hand it to him, but instead leans in to press a completely sober kiss, cutting him off mid-sentence. As before, he takes it slow and lets Cecil set the pace. But when he does pull back, he lets his accent fully unfurl as he says, "No worries, mate," in a cheeky sort of rumble.

Cecil stops explaining, which is in itself nothing short of miraculous, and he leans into the kiss, eager but not desperate. Neither is he all that quick to draw away. He blinks slowly up at Niall when he pulls back, and he grins stupidly. "Okay," he says. Then he takes a drink of his coffee. One would think he'd touched heaven, the way he practically melts. Coffee. Sweet milk of morning.

"You're going to have to stop that or we won't get on with the investigation stuff," says Niall, staying close, grinning down at him, keeping eye contact with dark eyes.

Cecil says, "Sorry. I just..." He has another sip of coffee, and he sighs. "I needed that. And yes! We'll investigate. After I feed those furry little ingrates. They're probably bothering poor Olivia. So far she's been a rock and hasn't buckled yet to their wails of starvation." He smiles, adding, "You'll love them. They're cute."

"You're cute," says Niall. "Mhmm, and that sounded like a line, didn't it?" He rolls his eyes at himself. "Oh yeah. Gotta introduce you," He nods towards the far wall where there's a fish tank and his aforementioned goldfish. "Meet Cuddlefish, Bloop and Fishstick. Which one is named which depends on the order in which they come bubbling up for fishflakes."

Cecil grins. "I'm not used to people calling me that," he says. "If it's a line, it's working." Then he glances to the fish tank. "My cats would name them Snack, Nibble, and Gnosh. They're cute, though. It's funny how human beings take things like carp and make them adorable, or turn wild, predatory cats into fuzzy loafs whose idea of hunting is staring at a bug until it wanders off. We've conquered nature by making it innocuous and nice to look at."

"Not all of it. I'm going to show you some of the wild nature, remember?" Niall reaches out and sets a hand on Cecil's hip. He pulls him in a little closer, then stops and clears his throat. "We should probably...get you to y'cats."

Cecil's breath catches, and he looks up at Niall, lashes lowered. "We'll never get there if this is where we end up." He rests a hand on Niall's hip and leans in to kiss him, rather sweet and lingering. Then he draws back and says, "Right, then. The cats." Tease.

"Nnngh," intones Niall in protest. He keeps hold of Cecil's hip, but lets him pull back. He retreats and goes for his coffee, swallowing a rather large mouthful of the cooling beverage. He then reaches for his keys which hang on a moose-shaped keyholder. Several of the antlers have different keys hanging off them like ornaments. He doesn't have a lot of woodsy kitsch, but the pieces he does have are pretty spectacular.

Cecil gives Niall a smile that has nothing to do with innocence, and then he notices the keyholder. "This is amazing," he says. "I am really lost to civilization, aren't I? This town, the woods, the moose." He takes a drink of his coffee. "I mean I was pretty sure about you last night, but the moose seals it."

"What were you thinking about last night that you're now sure of? That I have excellent taste?" Niall flicks the keys around in his hand. "I know the uniform isn't exactly style central, but I try to make it work." He sips the coffee again, then snap-claps. "Right. Let's go. Else your cats will have to suffer with inferior dry food. And we can't have that."

"That I like you," Cecil says. "That I see this going places. I didn't realize I needed a moose, but there it is." He gestures at the keyholder. Then he says, "Right, the cats. I hope they don't try to eat Olivia. I hope you'll give me a lift because I'm not entirely sure where my car is."

"Presumably at the diner?" Niall will just call it that to avoid the debate over just what kind of bear it's named after. "C'mon," he says with a grin and a nod towards the door.

"Yeah, that's probably where it is. I had a weird night last night, what with ghosts and whatnot." Cecil follows Niall out. The trip to Olivia's is short and sweet. There are two adorable cats that, alas, aren't terribly interested in meeting anyone because they're bellies are empty and they're going to die. Cecil fusses over them while they sing the song of their people, loud and desperate. Once Cecil puts the wet food down, that's all they're about, so Cecil says, "Maybe we can do a proper introduction later." He leaves them smecking away, and before long, the pair of them are pulling up at the parking area at the trail head.

Trail head is something of a misnomer. The actual trail marker is slightly overgrown with a sign that says this is a lesser maintained and more challenging trail. Niall has a backpack, because he's an overgrown boyscout and he's going to be prepared, damnit. He's got his Ranger hat if not his full outfit, and he wears it tipped back on his head, as is his custom. Which sort of does make him look more like a hipster given the mustard shirt and stone wash jean shorts. "Louise said this was a trail she told him about. It's about thirty minutes in, and apparently there's a lookout spot that looks down the cliff into the river and the falls." He looks back to Cecil. "You good with this? This isn't a difficult trail, but this also isn't the hike people take their kiddos on either."

Cecil says, "I am in desperate need of working out, but if I get exhausted, I trust you won't leave me for dead." He doesn't have a backpack, but he does have a water bottle. He's had to hike into crime scenes before, and it's thirsty work. "All right, I'm ready to make a day of it. The starving creatures I keep hostage won't expect another meal until this evening. The meows are still ringing in his ears. So loud. So hungry.

Niall just shoots a grin at Cecil and pinches his lips. He looks like he's holding back saying something at 'in desperate need of working out.' "I won't run you too hard your first time out, I promise," he drawls. He pauses to check the trail map. He takes a photo of it, then slips his phone away. He nods to the overgrown trail. "Watch your feet. This is only really kept passable by people using it, so there'll be rocks and roots and stuff. And I don't think you want me to piggyback you out of here. That'd probably only be fun for the first five minutes." And with that innuendo, he starts on the trail.

Cecil's brows lift in an unspoken question. Does Niall have something to say? Then he replies, "You don't have to go too easy on me." He steps onto the trail after Niall. "You make it sound like a bad thing," he comments. "But this is nice. I'm enjoying the scenery."

Every corner of Olympic is quite heart-wrenchingly gorgeous. This trail is definitely wilder, more overgrown and more 'real woods' than the corners of the park meant for visitors with strollers or weekend warriors. It's easy to see why a man as in love with nature as Henry would connect with this place.

"I was just being cheeky. Don't mind me," says Niall as he picks his way through the tight path. It doesn't take long before they come to a log strewn across the path. He steps over on long legs, then offers a hand back to help Cecil up and over.

Cecil does take in the natural beauty around him, though part of his attention is on the man walking in front of him. He's appreciating all the scenery. "This is all rather lovely," he says. "It's one of the things I like about America. There are still wild places that haven't seen hundreds of years of interference by kings and corporations. Not yet anyway." He takes the offered hand. "Thank you. Such a gentleman."

"I do try," Niall drawls as he pulls gently to help Cecil over. "Watch your feet. There's a bit of a root down here. And, you should see New Zealand. We are Middle Earth, after all."

As Cecil looks down to place his feet, something glints in the rays peeking through the trees - something metallic and small.

Cecil is not a strong man, or a partiuclarly tough man, but he is an observant one. If anyone is likely to find a needle in a haystack, it's Cecil. "What's this," he says as he goes to inspect the glint. The beauty of the outdoors fades away for him as he zeroes in on the odd thing out, the metallic-something.

The way the sun hit it gave it an outsize shine, but what it is is a stamped penny from Yosemite on a chain - a chain with a broken clasp. It's Henry's.

Niall steps up and peers at it, then up at Cecil. "Good bloody eye. So I guess this was somewhere he came. Now, the question: did something happen to him while he was out here, or did he just come for a walk?"

"Look!" Cecil laughs a little, just a burst of boyish delight at finding the missing thing. Then he remembers he's supposed to be professional, and he clears his throat, and he takes out his phone to take a picture of where the necklace was found, its condition, all that good evidence stuff. Then he tucksa way his phone takes out his wallet, and where some men carry condoms. he carries a pair of vinyl gloves and a ziploc bag, because you never know. He doesn't put the gloves on immediately, though. Instead, he says, "I'll read it before I collect it." It's the chain he touches, lest there be fingerprints on the penny itself.

Honestly, in a pinch you could probably use the condom to...nevermind.

Niall's expression lightens a bit, then darkens when that brings his mind back to poor Henry. He wants to reach for it, but he realizes the cops probably are already keeping an eye on him and having his fingerprints on that necklace would not be a good thing. "That's probably a good idea."

When he reads it, the image is...vague, but there's a definite feeling of confusion, doubt, fear. There's a sense that Henry came here to try and find clarity, to see a path. There's also a hanging feeling of dread, and flashes of nightmare. He Glimmered, that part is known. So maybe he had been Dreaming? He was a newcomer to the town, after all.

Cecil's breath catches on the borrowed fear. "He was afraid," he says quietly. "Confused, doubting. He was out here looking for clarity." He doesn't fight the dread, letting it wash through him. "There was a pervasive feeling of dread." He draws back, and then he slips on the gloves to collect the necklace into evidence. "I think he was Dreaming, Niall. "Maybe. He definitely Glimmered. He was in the throes of something nightmarish."

"Something he didn't understand. And maybe..." Niall's expression darkens, "...someone found him who didn't have his best interests at heart." Which is a lesson to them all that maybe being open about what they are can be worth the risk. The alternative is feeling alone and afraid, and perhaps pushed towards someone or something bad. He looks around the woods, then back to Cecil. "I don't think he was killed here. Maybe abducted from here, but if you're not getting present fear...?" He pauses. He's not really sure if that's how it works. "But this would be a pretty bad place. Sure, it's isolated, but the road out goes right past one of the busiest trailheads. And even walking this far back down the trail carrying Henry..." who wasn't a small man, "...would've been impractical."

Cecil bags the necklace, then snaps off the gloves so when he lays a hand on Niall's arm, the contact is skin to skin. "I don't think he was killed here, either. Abducted from here, maybe. Or talked into going with someone." He looks around. "I don't see any sign of a struggle." He takes a closer look around the area, just in case, looking for broken brush and stamped down turf.

There is nothing trampled, nothing obviously disturbed. No signs of blood or a struggle. It's a peaceful, quiet path in a corner of the park not many people choose to visit. A place a man who loved nature loved. His last visit may not have given him peace, but at least he wasn't killed here. That would seem a recipe for a restless spirit in Gray Harbor.