2020-12-29 - Fewer Isn't None

Tis the Season, and all that jazz. There are still a few things Bennie needs to take care of before she and Easton leave on the Most Epic of Road Trips Evah, but this happens to be the one she was looking forward to the most. Spreading good tidings! So outside 13 Elm, the Blonde stands just off the front stoop of Alexander's home and thanks to some back up vocals coming from the blue tooth speaker at her feet, Bennie Oakes starts up a merry chorus of Jingle Bells caroling. Dressed in her wool turquoise trench coat with a ring of plastic poinsettias on her head like a crown, and holding up a battery powered candle, she's jingling all the way.

This is not a sound much heard on Elm Street, and definitely not at Alexander's. He was in his office, working on...things, when the music starts up. His walls are paper thin, so he hears it pretty clearly even in the depths of the house, and soon there's the door opening, and the investigator standing with a bemused smile on his face. He catches the tune, and joins in on the chorus as he leans against the doorframe. His voice is quite good, mellow and resonant. Then he grins. "And a Merry Christmas to you, Bennie. Should I bring you some figgy pudding?"

Not only is she not drenched in a pitcher of water - hey, it's probably happened - but Alexander unexpectedly joins in! This earns him a wide, beaming smile from Bennie that makes it hard to continue as the song switches over into a bunch of fa la la's. Instead, she pokes at her phone in her pocket and cuts off the music.

"Well, duh, it's like. Tradition. Wait, do you actually have figgy pudding? Does it have figs in it? Because ew. I mean, why else would they call it figgy pudding, unless that's like some Shakespearean version of chocolate. If it's chocolate, then yes!"

She bends over to tuck the speaker and fake candle away into her purse, and haul the entire mass over her shoulder. "Merry Christmas, bestest friend. Is this a good time to lavish you with gifts and good tidings?"

"I actually have no idea what figgy pudding is, I just know that cheeky carolers often demand it in song," Alexander responds, cheerfully. "But I do have hot chocolate, which you might like even better. Come in." He opens the door wider - so apparently that's a yes to 'is this a good time'. "How are you doing, hmm? And Easton? How's he?"

"Hot chocolate is an acceptable substitute for mystery pudding. And a substitute for wassail. Which is also apparently a beverage you can turn into a verb. So here I come a hot chocolating!" Bennie presses on forward into the house, handing off a package into Alexander's hands as she does so, a rough twelve by twelve inch square wrapped in a myriad of pieced together paper that some how looks like a quilt of wrapping paper instead of the wad of recyclables that it actually is.

"I'm great, Easton is great. We successfully navigated a major milestone holiday as a couple with only the good kind of tears. He's taking me on a road trip! And later to Mexico! And all I got him was a lousy I.O.U. for a tattoo, which is okay because I did this thing with my hands...Luigi! Look, I brought you a gift too!" And undoubtedly one for Bluebell as well, but right now she's fishing out a package of freeze dried fruits and seeds that have been formed into a little wreath that she goes to hang on the birdie's cage.

Luigi twitches and bobs at the call of his name, and looks at the approaching Bennie with beady, suspicious eyes. He hops to the back of the cage when she hangs the wreath on his cage, and whistles a little tentatively. "Don't put your finger in the cage," Alexander warns quietly. And suddenly there's a white cat, sitting near Bennie's feet, looking up at her with accusing, blue eyes. Meanwhile, Alexander has a package. He blinks down at it, then heads into the kitchen. It's set aside, but only as long as it takes to get the hot chocolate starting, and then he's tearing the wrapping open. "I'm glad to hear things are going well. And that you're going on a road trip. Getting out of this town is definitely a good idea."

"Oh, I know better than that." Though the reminder is appreciated, as Bennie is the type to conveniently forget these things when she's overcome with the urge to touch the pretty. She merely makes a kissy noise at Luigi and then refocuses on the animal at her feet that's less likely to bite off her fingers. Hopefully. A little felt mouse stuffed with catnip is dangled by the tail over Bluebell and then released as she hears the paper rustling of Alexander tucking into his gift. It's another cross stitch - surprise! - to add to his collection, this one framed in a reclaimed second hand find of an ornate wood she's painted black.

"He didn't know that you and I had already arranged for a little 'vacation' too, so don't think he stole your idea! We're driving to the outer banks to visit Tom's family and he promised to let us stop at every road side attraction that tickles my fancy."

Blue Bell forgives all trespasses the second she sees the mouse. She bats at it, and once it's released, rolls around on it in feline ecstasy. "Well, you've made both their Christmases," Alexander observes, with a grin. Then he finishes removing the paper, and his eyes widen. So does the grin. He holds it up to the light and laughs. "I love it. It'll go into my office with the other one. Maybe above it, so that you've got...Talk Murder, then the crime scene tape and the actual crime!" He puts the cross stitch down, then moves across the floor, arms outstretched as if to give her a hug. And he wants to. But his body freezes up a scant foot from her, and ends up just waving his arms a little awkwardly. "Thanks, Bennie. It's a beautiful gift. Merry Christmas. And even if Easton HAD stolen my gift, I'd be okay with it, because you deserve all the good things you can possibly have."

Bennie completes the hug herself by wrapping her arms around her own torso and squeezing, unperturbed he froze at the last moment and couldn't fully connect. She just accepts this about him, takes no slight in it, but it's clearly the thought that's appreciated. "It's seriously like the least that I could do, for all that you've done for me." She flicks open the button on her jacket and sheds it along with her purse near the couch. "I don't know about deserve but I'm going to enjoy the heck out of it." She flops down into one of the cushions. "Anyway, that's not your entire gift. I wanted to share something with you too."

Alexander's smile is sheepish, and a little guilty, but appreciative of her willingness to complete the hug, herself. He heads back into the kitchen to fetch two mugs of hot chocolate, then returns to her, settling on the other side of the couch, and offering her one of the drinks. "Good. Enjoy it. You do deserve it," he says, a little sternly. His eyebrows go up. "Oh? I mean, this is more than enough, Bennie. You even got the pets gifts." But he's curious. Of course he's curious.

Bennie takes the cup of hot cocoa with a murmur of thanks, giving it an experimental sip for temperature before setting it aside for the time being. "Well, I know you've been having a hard time with the whole de la Vega thing. So I thought maybe I'd show you the other side of things." Bennie pulls out a notebook with a soft leather cover, a bright ribbon wrapped around and tucked to keep it closed. "This. Is my sober journal." She lays it on the cushion between them for Alexander to take and examine, silent permission in passing it over for him to flip through if he'd like. "I started keeping it after I left your care. It's filled with a lot of frustrations - my brain still isn't right, gaps in my memory because of the drugs, things I might not ever get back. Problems focusing my thoughts. But all those bad things are overwhelmed by the positive. The good days. The clear days. The days of not feeling controlled by an addiction I never would have kicked if it wasn't for you."

Alexander's shoulders hunch at the mention of Ruiz's name, and his first response is quick, defensive, a sharp, "It's fine. I knew what would happen."

But then she's going on, and his wary expression settles into confusion. He stares at the notebook like he's never seen a book before. He reaches out carefully, and does flip through it - he's never going to turn down the chance to snoop, especially with permission. A fast reader, he flips through it fairly quickly, just stopping here and there when something catches his attention. When she says the last sentence, he looks up from the pages, and stares at her.

Alexander starts to cry. It's not a pretty cry, or a few manly tears stoically sliding down his cheek. A great, gulping sob devolves into a full, deep cry, and his head bows, his hands clenched on the notebook as his shoulders shake with a complete lack of control.

Bennie's bottom lip is caught by her teeth when he reads. There are some dark thoughts in there for sure, worse when Easton was Lost, but as time progressed through the dated pages, things seem to get brighter and more hopeful. Then comes the look and urge to further express gratitude but then tears spring to his eyes and start cascading like a water faucet she doesn't know how to turn off.

"Aw, no, sweetie. It was supposed to be a positive thing! Shoot, don't cry, because then I'll cry and we'll both be a bawling mess!" Her chin gets that little tell tale wobble of emotion before her eyes, too, start leaking. Instinctually, she would reach out to comfort him, but she doesn't want to add fuel to an already emotional fire by doing so unbidden, so she lays out her hand, palm up with welcoming fingers.

Alexander tries to bring himself under control, but doesn't really happen until she lays out her hand. It's only then that he's able to take a long, ragged breath. The tears continue to flow, unabated, but at least he's not sobbing. Instead, he reaches out with his hand and puts it carefully over hers. Not squeezing. Just leaving it there, his fingertips lightly touching her wrist. "I'm sorry. I'm sad. But it's not...this made me happy. Bennie. Th-thank you. I don't. I'm not good with people. And you--I didn't do this. You did it. All of the hard stuff was all you. But...I'm glad I helped. I'm glad I didn't hurt you. And that you don't hate me."

Bennie doesn't dare to grip him tight, to hug or hold him even though her arms obviously ache to be of more comfort. "Never be sorry for being sad, Alexander. I can't even imagine what sort of heartache this has been for you, to do the right thing even knowing there was a possibility..." Her voice fades off with a choke of emotion in her throat. "Time. It's the only thing that is going to ease any of this. But I just wanted to remind you that there are bright spots among the clouds and you have friends that love and appreciate you through the storm."

Alexander lifts an arm to rub his forearm over his eyes. There's an unlovely sniffle, and he squeezes her hand just a little. "It wasn't. The right thing. I don't, I don't regret it," he confesses, his voice thick with tears, "but it wasn't right. I..." he shudders, and says, low, "I went back to a place that I thought I'd left forever, Bennie. I found that I could do that, again. That I could hurt and confine, and not be moved by suffering. I hated it. I hated every moment of it." He bows his head. "But I did it anyway. And now I don't...I have fewer friends, now."

He finally takes his hand of hers, and rubs his eyes again, this time with the heel of his hand. The notebook is offered back, with a watery sort of smile. "But fewer isn't none. And I love you, too."