The Ai, the Thief and Recovery

[depthlesslock]

Who: Agent Washington (Native), Agent York (Native) and Sigma Ai
What: First meet, coffee and trickery
Where: The Green Fairy
When: Midday
Warnings: Tricks and lies and the possible exposure of both

York is well aware of his habit of being late for things, so he sets in his mind that he's meeting Sigma and Wash at ten to twelve and is rather pleased when he makes it there at five to. He's the first one there so he leans back against the wall and waits for his friend and boyfriend to show up.

This is going to be fun. Ever since Sigma agreed to the facade, he's been grinning every time he thinks about it. That's going to have to stop. If they're going to fool Wash, Sigma's not the only who's going to have to pretend. Fortunately, being caring and protective over him isn't going to be hard to do. It's keeping a straight face that will be the hard part, but he'll give it his best shot.

Comments

[depthlesslock]

'Take care.' He won't stop Sigma from leaving, much as he wants to. He has Wash's number now, so provided he doesn't tear it up as soon as he's out of the cafe, he's got an emergency number.

[searchandrecovery]

Wash waves. Is that the appropriate reaction? He doesn't know, but waving feels right. Somehow.

He looks at York, concerned. Hopefully this hasn't upset York too much, but knowing York, it probably has.

[ambitious_muse]

He doesn't look back until he's safely in the airlock. This is not how he wanted this date to go. But he can't go back inside.

So he looks, one last time, and has no idea what he'll do next.

[depthlesslock]

With Sigma gone, York sits down un his chair again, landing heavily and wasting no time in burying his face in his arms now folded across the table. Fuck. He's screwed up bad. And it might well cost him Sigma.

[searchandrecovery]

Wash sits next to him, unsure if he should rub York's back or tell him it's all gonna be okay or what. The thing is, he can't promise that it's all gonna be okay. Not this time. No matter how much he wants to.

"I'm sorry, man." He'll start with that.

[depthlesslock]

York nods into his arms, not trusting his voice to speak. His throat has closed up anyway. Nothing is certain yet, but it's looking pretty dark and all because he didn't tell the truth. Because he thought it would be safer to lie.

'I want to go,' he finally says quietly.

[searchandrecovery]

It might've been safer, Wash thinks, especially at first, but it wasn't necessarily better. Still, he doesn't judge York for the choices he made. If Wash was in that situation, he'd probably lie, too. There's something about it that's certainly easier.

"Yeah, that's a good idea. Let's get out of here." Wash takes York's hand and pulls him to his feet, not really counting on York to instigate any movement on his own. The poor guy.

[depthlesslock]

York lets Wash pull him up, only grabbing his helmet from under the table as an afterthought. He fits it over his head before they're even at the airlock, it's easier to hide from everyone when they can't see his face.

[searchandrecovery]

"Where do you wanna go? The base? Or someplace else?" He's not gonna suggest alcohol unless York does first, but honestly, the guy could use some. In moderation, of course.

[depthlesslock]

'Ererra.' Bright lights, throbbing music, alcohol and no space to think. That's what he needs right now. Maybe it'll temporarily drive his guilt, fear and anticipation away.

[searchandrecovery]

"Errera it is." Of course. Nothing like the ultimate sensory overload to make you forget the bad stuff that's happened.

"It wasn't your fault, you know." At least, Wash hopes he knows. Still, he figures he should say it. That York would want to hear it.

[depthlesslock]

His snort of laughter is bitter. 'Of course it's my fault,' he says. 'I'm the idiot who thought I could keep this a secret while he met all the rest of you and knew you were my friends.'

[searchandrecovery]

"Yeah, that wasn't doing to last forever, but you were trying to protect the guy. You were just doing what any of us would've done, really. And I do think he understands that. Just give him some time."

[depthlesslock]

'Still my fault,' he sulks. He'll give Sigma time, he knows the guy will need it to figure out where he's at with this. But fuck, he's scared of the answer when Sigma does figure it out.

[searchandrecovery]

"What were you going to do? Look, I know you're good at flirting and all, but even you couldn't pull off 'hey baby, wanna bang a mercenary?'" It's a lame attempt at humor, but it might cheer York up a little bit.

[depthlesslock]

York snorts, the sound only half-hearted. 'Funny. I wouldn't have done it outright, but I could've told him sooner. He's right, there were opportunities.'

[searchandrecovery]

"Well, you told him in the most badass way possible, so that's got to count for something." Wash open the door to Errera. You can hear and feel the bass through the airlock. Perfect. York needs this, the ego-stroking isn't getting through.

[depthlesslock]

'The most violent way possible,' he corrects. Hopefully Sigma had been hiding from danger rather than watching the fight. They wait in the airlock and when it opens, it brings the sound of the club with it, loud, rhythmic and impossible to ignore.

[searchandrecovery]

That too, Wash agrees, silently. He follows York into the club, but doesn't take his helmet off. It's his last defense against the too-lound music and those flashing lights. Still, you can find a certain kind of solitude in a crowd like this, and Wash has always liked that. And if it distracts York, well, all the better.

"Do you want something to drink?" The answer is more than likely yes, but Wash doesn't really trust York to get it himself. Everything in moderation.

[depthlesslock]

He can feel the base line of the music, pulsing up through the floor like a second heartbeat. The sounds of conversation and laughter is barely audible over the music, despite the crowds. Finding an empty table takes a few minutes, but he eventually finds one and sits down.

'Jack Daniels,' he says, having to shout to make himself heard.

[searchandrecovery]

Wash gives him a thumbs-up and orders at the bar. "One Jack Daniels, please." Wash is going to hold off, for now. Somebody needs to keep a clear head.

He brings the whiskey back to his friend. "Dinner is served," he jokes.

[depthlesslock]

York waits at the table, chin resting on his folded arms. When the whiskey comes, he takes the bottle and takes a long swig.

'Thanks,' he says, taking another drink.

[searchandrecovery]

"Easy there. You're not here to get shitfaced. But you're welcome, I guess." Wash sits next to York, ready to comfort him or pull the bottle away from him, whichever's necessary.

[depthlesslock]

'Yeah, I am,' he grumbles, though he has a feeling Wash won't let him get too drunk. He pulls the bottle closer after taking another swig in case Wash tries to take it.

[searchandrecovery]

"Literally zero problems were solved by getting shitfaced, trust me. Some great art might've been created, sure, but I really doubt you're gonna start painting all of a sudden." Now that would be interesting.