2021-11-02 - A Bennie Trap in Two Photos

(TXT to Bennie) Easton : :A photo of a birthday cake with one slice taken out of it, and about a quarter eaten straight from the cake with a fork: :A photo of Easton's abs, clearly taken in the bar from the background:

(TXT to Bennie) Easton : If you're not busy, stop by. Apparently my parents decided to send me a birthday cake? Only two months late, so not bad.

(TXT to Easton) Bennie : Pretty sure they messed up, because clearly it's MY birthday and that's my present.

(TXT to Easton) Bennie : Save me a piece of both, I'll swing by after work.

(TXT to Bennie) Easton : Both will be waiting with your name on men.

(TXT to Bennie) Easton : *them. Only of these two is a man.

(TXT to Easton) Bennie : Best. Typo. Ever. But fine, I'll put away my sharpie.

(TXT to Bennie) Easton : If I find your name on any guys at the bar now at least I'll know why.

(TXT to Easton) Bennie : Might be faster to just buy me a 'Property Of' stamp for Christmas.

(TXT to Bennie) Easton : Good topic. For Christmas do we: A. buy ridiculous gifts? B. buy no gifts and go on warm summery vacation instead? or...C. Buy gifts like functioning adults and maybe go out east?

(TXT to Easton) Bennie : Definitely A with a side of locking ourselves it the Cabin until New Year's. After losing 3 months, I really don't feel like traveling if that's okay?

(TXT to Bennie) Easton : That sounds fantastic.

(TXT to Easton) Bennie : Pajamas, fire, big ole dog in our lap. Heaven.

(TXT to Bennie) Easton : How soon is too soon for Christmas Movies? Halloween's done. I've never really cared about Thanksgiving.

(TXT to Easton) Bennie : This is because you want to watch Die Hard isn't it?

(TXT to Bennie) Easton : How many hallmark movies do I need to watch with you before we can get to John McClaine killing nazis? Roughly. 2? 3?

(TXT to Easton) Bennie : The exchange rate is 2 men in flannel for every one that crawls through an airduct.

(TXT to Bennie) Easton : seriously the flannel shirt is like the anti-red flag that indicates who she ends up with. If her corporate city-slicker boyfriend would just ditch the starched shirt and put on a flannel maybe he'd still have a shot at her heart.

(TXT to Easton) Bennie : He also needs to ditch the hard core work ethic for some down home morals.

(TXT to Easton) Bennie : Also, I think you're more into these movies than you want to admit.

(TXT to Bennie) Easton : I would like them a hell of a lot more if they could kill a nazi every now and then. I mean why not have the city-slicker boyfriend also be a nazi who tries to kill them both in the third act only to be shot with a sensible home defense shotgun? It would barely change the movie and open up a whole new demographic.

(TXT to Easton) Bennie : Add an 'OMG it's SNOWING ON CHRISTMAS' scene and done.

(TXT to Bennie) Easton : yeah, we should def. make this happen, get Justin to star in it as a comeback vehicle. He is literally the definition of the hallmark Christmas move boyfriend.

(TXT to Easton) Bennie : Really? Never noticed. Just don't check too hard for my stamp.

(TXT to Bennie) Easton : Ha. I can't imagine anyone even the straightest or most asexual person being able to deny the Justin is the prettiest boy they've ever seen in person.

(TXT to Easton) Bennie : I'm dumbly partial to my Marine.

(TXT to Easton) Bennie : Alright, gonna finish restocking the rig and head over. XOXO.

(TXT to Bennie) Easton : sounds good.

The bar is closing down by now and the cake has been put back in the box into one of the fridges. Easton is out at the bar actually doing work, wiping the bar down and informing the customers that yes he is actually enforcing closing time for once. They are good natured about it considering the number of times Easton has let them slide on a tab or hang around after hours when they didn't want to leave. Easton has on a bar tee-shirt with the logo on the chest over his usual jeans and boots. He glances up at the clock and pours himself a small bourbon, but doesn't down the whole thing. Nope, he takes a small sip and sets it back down to keep finishing up his tasks.

Bennie pushes in past one of those departing bar flies, letting in a wisp of cold air that she quickly pulls the door closed against. She's still dressed for the rig, though she's unbundled her hair from the bun and that bright yellow and purple scarf certainly isn't regulation. "Hey babe." She greets as she starts stripping off her GHFD jacket and flinging it haphazardly on an upturned chair. "I believe I was promised abs covered in frosting. Or at least that was my interpretation." She looks a little tired from her shift, but overall her demeanor is her normal, cheery self.

The cold wind is cancelled out by Bennie being brought in with it. Easton grins and looks up, "Babe" in his usual booming voice. He laughs and nods in faux thought, "Yes I'm pretty sure that the math of those two pictures clearly adds up to that, but I'd rather do that somewhere with a shower handy. The soda gun is a lot less fun for cleaning up." He points with his chin at the whiskey bottle on the bar, "Need a drink? Or want something froofier?" Yes froofier. It's a thing.

"You really need to have one installed in the office. A shower, not a soda gun. I'm sure the staff would appreciate you being able to freshen up after a night on the couch in there. Or after one of our...accounting meetings. But of course, if you had a shower in there, I'm preeeetty sure, we'd spend even more time sneaking away during business hours. " Her gloves get stripped off, stuffed into the pocket of that discarded jacket with a glance his way as he offers up refreshments.

"Weeeell," Bennie says as she hooks her thumbs into pockets, walking with a suspicious faux-innocent to drag. "That depends." The corner of her mouth is caught by teeth, adding to that pensive affect. "We gonna talk about it?"

Easton considers it but at the last point about the frequency of their meetings he nods and says, "Yeeah, I don't think that's such a good idea then. We apparently lost a table the other night because of our .. uh.. fiscal discussion." Of course there is no need for euphemisms when it's just the two of them and neither is shy about talking about it openly, but it's kind of funny.

Her answer about the drink though causes first one eyebrow to raise, and then at the final question to look confused with both eyebrows raised. "It? Talk about /it/?" He then asks a little slower, "Are... we?" Totally lost.

Bennie gives an overdramatic wince at the lost table, "I'll try to be less of a banshee next time."

Her foot catches the leg of the chair and swivels back and forth, "'It' as in your parents, you dope. The fact that they sent you a cake. A birthday cake. On most decidedly a month when your birthday most certainly is not. Unless they confused you with their other child named Easton. I'm sure that's left you all sorts of wumble tumble. So, if we are going to talk, gimme the hard stuff. If not, I'll take a beer and be a good little girlfriend and pretend with you that this isn't so out of the ordinary."

Easton gives a shrug as if he's not so sure about her toning it down.

"Oh. /MY/ parents. Right. Of course. With the cake and the popping up out of fuck no-where" He covers badly and then shakes his head with a laugh. "Yeah we can talk bout it. I mean I'm only concerned that somewhere in that missing time I lost my damn mind and reconciled with them by sacrificing a virgin wrapped in seersucker on an alter made of yachting trophies." He grins and says, "So now you're drinkin' whiskey Oakes." Talking out of the way, he pulls out another glass and pours her one.

Bennie's nose wrinkles for a moment when he stresses the 'my' as if there was another option, but it gets dismissed out of hat as she turns and plants her elbows on the bar. "Or worse, you agreed that we'd spend every major holiday and Presidential election party with them until the end of time. So. You might want to check your email for any flight confirmations for turkey day and Christmas. In which case, I'm sorry, but I suddenly will have a work emergency and won't be able to attend. I would lay down my life for you, but the bullet that is your family you're going to have to take yourself."

Easton stares at her as she outlines that nightmare scenario. "Even walking into buildings I know are wired to explode I have never felt the icy cold grip of fear this strong. Are you..." He pulls out his phone and furiously tries to search emails for tickets or anything, bringing up his credit card and then stopping. "We bought a juicer?" That's not the weird part. "Another one?" Focus Marshall.

"I wouldn't ask you to. You know that. That burden is something I alone have to .." He trails off a little in the joke and then waiting barely a beat he out of the blue adds, "Alexander stopped in." Only another beat before, "He told me you asked him to find your dad."

Errrr. That's Easton putting the brakes on this otherwise light-hearted conversation. But that's why he poured the whiskey.

"I can explain!" Unfortunately this is to the part of the second juicer being bought, about to launch into an elaborate explanation that involved a science experiment gone wrong with trying to make her own fabric dye by extruding it from various flora but then he pulls the old bait and switch with conversation and Alexander and the subject of her father comes up.

And Bennie gets smaller.

Her spine decompresses and curls, her shoulders pulled forward until her body goes concave. "Oh, did he? Yeah, I guess I should have said something." Even her voice is small for a moment, before she suddenly brightens again and merely dismisses it with a wave of her hand. "I had to get his address so I could forward Judd's death benefits to him. He is the rightful recipient after all, according to the government. He can either nut up and cash them himself from now on, or hold on to a bunch of otherwise useless pieces of paper."

Whiskey? What whiskey. It makes an impressive disappearing act down her throat in one thick gulp.

"Bennie." In a soft, almost rumble.

Easton watches her shrink and hates himself for bringing it up. He could have just let it lie, it's not his business to force it. He watches her explain it away and he narrows his eyes, "Oh fuck that.. Bennie he doesn't deserve shi-" He cuts himself off and says, clearly, as if forcing himself to believe it, "This is for you to handle. And I support you, in however you want to deal with the dumpster fire fuck-knuckle of a father." He watches her take the drink and says, "I'm going to pour you one more and then get the cake.."

He does the pour and looks at her for a moment before downing his and refilling, then walking to the kitchen to get the cake with a glance over his shoulder.

And that's long enough to leave Bennie with her own thoughts, that glance back over his shoulder leaving an image of her shrinking back down and cupping the refill of whiskey like she's afraid to move.

When she feels his footfalls approaching again, she can't even muster false enthusiasm for the prospect of cake. The thought of frosting right now making her already churning stomach cramp violently until it forces a sound out of her throat that suspiciously sounds like, "I think I killed my father."

Easton tries to rally himself in the kitchen briefly. He can be a supportive boyfriend regardles off how much of a giant bag of dicks her father is. He can do this. He walks back out with the box of cake and doesn't even make it all the way to the bar before she says something. He stops and the cake box slips right out of his hand. Thankfully he manages to TK it from splatting on the ground but he sets it on the ground to walk over to her and squat down, with only a mild grimace of pain in his leg.

"I'm sorry can you... what?" He can talk quietly when it really calls for it, and right now it really calls for an actual inside voice.

Usually Bennie stuffs it down beneath a layer of sunshine, but when she does give into tears, she's never been a loud sobbing cryer. Just a quiet tear slips off her cheek and plinks on the bar, the rest wiped away with an annoyed pass of her hand when she turns slightly toward him. "The night of the storm. The tarot card reader. I just...I had to see him. See for myself. We fought, I remember that. Standing in the rain on his front stoop. And I...I don't remember anything after that until I was driving back to Gray Harbor. But there was blood on my hands and the steering wheel...and oh God, Easton, none of it was mine."

"The night of the storm.." Easton considers that and looks at Bennie as she says all this, he says, "And uh.. he's not? I mean a little blood." He gives a shrug like that could mean anything, "Why do you think he's dead Benz?" He takes the bottle and pours her another drink before pulling a stool up close enough that his knees interlace with hers, he leans in close. They've always been tactile to say the least and he wants to be as physically supportive as he can while they talk through this.

"I was just so angry." Bennie keeps on talking in that verbal vomit nonsensical way, not really answering his question directly but rather just babbling on like a flood gate has been open. "And he was smug, just so smug, like he pulled off the greatest con of all time by making some dumb blonde believe he was dead. And the money, so much money, paying every cent I had to pay off his diebt. I still can't get a gift without thinking about how much I can get for it at Lilith's shop. I won't buy myself something nice because I'll just be afraid of losing it again. I...I.." She leans in to rest her forehead on Easton's shoulder, fighting for a hiccup of breath. "I felt it. I felt that warmness grow in my gut, heard the crack of bones like Rice Crispies. And then I was just driving, and driving away from it all."

Easton nods, understanding that there might not be any rational flow to the story that involves things like killing your own father. He's clearly not judging though. He pushes her hair away from her face as she leans against him. "He is seriously the worst. Not just father, but possibly general human that I've ever met, and I met terrorists that would strap bombs to kids." Easton would probably use a more racist term there but I don't want to, so terrorist it is. He shakes his head and says, "You don't have to worry about money. You don't.." He tries in vain to reassure her even though that is so not the point right now. He breathes and says, "Damn here Alexander were all geared up to convince you to let us make the guy disappear..." It's a bad joke but well, he's long had a dark sense of humor.

There is a little pathetic cough of laughter, along with a self deprecating, "Well, looks like I might have taken care of it myself. I keep checking the Seattle news, waiting for law enforcement to show up at our door...what if I really killed him, Easton? What if I..I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I didn't know how to tell you, how could I look you in the eye and tell you I'm a murderer. I don't know how I can even look at myself in the mirror, and the only way I'm even getting out of bed in the morning is because I'm using again. And I ruined it. I ruined everything."

Easton allows himself a small smile at her little joke and then shakes his head trying to wrap it around the concept. He says, "Well I'll call Alexander tonight and get him to run up and do a check around. See what's what because no use crying over spilt milk if the fucknut still up there fucknutting away." As fucknuts do. He shushes her about the apology, "Babe.. babe." He leans his head down to look her in the eye and say, "I have killed people. Some who didn't deserve it nearly as much as your old man." At the mention of her using he winces and says, "Okay. That's okay, people slip up over a lot less than a little patricide babe. We can.. we can work through it. And get you clean and ... " He can feel his own issues flaring up, wanting to drink tonight away at least before he has to deal with all this tomorrow but both of them can't lose their head over this. He needs to get it sorted.

"Once we know what we're dealing with we'll go from there."

All Bennie can really do is nod, her teeth clenched against a chin wobble but the tremor of emotion in there is in her bottom lip. She wants to apologize a million times over, it's in the sad plaintive rounding of her eyes. But she just nods. "This wasn't in the Service, or some weird messed up Veil nonsense..." She can't finish her sentence without just completely losing it, so she just reaches for the drink she was poured to calm her overshot nerves. "Will you just take me home?"

"I know .. I know. It's not the same, but babe.. it's alright. You are still you." The affirmation is clearly one from his service days though, something that more than one person needed to hear after some particularly horrible thing. Easton nods and says, "Yeah yeah, of course. We can go home and I'll take care of this. Don't worry, we'll get through this." He downs the rest of his glass and stands up to help her up. "But we're taking the cake, because don't pretend you aren't going to be up eating that in the middle of the night straight from the box."