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]

'I'm a locksmith, not an artist,' he says, nursing the bottle for a moment while he recovers from the last swig.

[searchandrecovery]

"Some days, you tell me there's no difference." This is good. Get York talking about something else. Something that's not Sigma.

[depthlesslock]

'Different kind of art. You know I can't paint for crap.' He's not too bad at drawing things he knows well, like holographic locks, and he's quite good at designing mazes. But painting? Nope.

[searchandrecovery]

"That's okay, buddy," Wash gives York a little pat on the back. "You're better off picking locks. Pays better, anyway."

[depthlesslock]

'Much better.' He knocks back another swig of the whiskey, feeling it burn down his throat.

[searchandrecovery]

Was that positivity? Hey, close enough. Wash'll take it.

"So did you start the book club book yet?"

[depthlesslock]

'I'm not reading the book club stuff. I was just supporting Delta.' He's over halfway through the bottle.

[searchandrecovery]

"Oh. Well. It's a good book. Really interesting setting. Writing's a little thick, but I think you'd like it." Damn. Wash eyes the whiskey bottle. York's really moving through it. "You're going a little fast there."

[depthlesslock]

'What's it about?' Their voices are going to get hoarse from shouting so much at this rate. He pulls the bottle a bit closer to him. 'I'm fine.'

[searchandrecovery]

Wash can already feel the tickle in the back of his throat, but he ignores it. "It's pretty neat! Involves cloaking tech, and by the way the author writes, you can totally tell the girls in it are hot. You'd love it." Fine?

That's the biggest lie Wash has heard all day, and he's heard several.

[depthlesslock]

Cloaking tech sounds cool, but he's only really half listening to Wash. Of course the music is also drowning out a fair amount of what he says.

'Sure,' he says vaguely, not bothering to shout as he drinks again.

[searchandrecovery]

He can tell York's not listening and doesn't care, so Wash stops talking in an effort to save his throat. He scoots his chair closer to York, though, in case York wants or needs to say something.

[depthlesslock]

York glances at him but says nothing. Wash has been his friend since before he lost his eye and York's pretty sure Wash doesn't even make the conscious decision to sit on his good side anymore, he just does it. He's a good friend.

[searchandrecovery]

When York lost his eye, Wash was super careful about not getting on York's bad side, almost painfully so. Now, it's second-nature. He thinks things like that, the little things, are just as important, if not more so, that fancy cheer-up speeches accompanied with a few witty jokes. Because at the end of the day, aren't the little things what really matter?

Wash gives his friend a little pat on the back. Yeah, they're in a club with pounding bass and flashing lights galore, but Wash thinks a pat on the back is still in order.

[depthlesslock]

York leans into the pat and stays there. Wash is good for support, possibly as a side from being Recovery, but more likely because he's just a good person. He helps people, whether the situation involves guns and life threatening scenarios or a bottle of whisky and a sensory overload club.

He takes another drink and the bottle's almost empty. He wants another one, but something tells him Wash won't let him.

[searchandrecovery]

York's damn right he won't. In Wash's experience, that just continues the cycle of shit. No one wants to have a fight with their boyfriend and wake up with an awful hangover the next morning.

Wash keeps patting York. Hey, it works on cats, so it should probably work on best friends, too.

[depthlesslock]

His fingers have started tingling. That's always the first sign he's getting tipsy, but it's not enough. Still half leaning on Wash, he downs the rest of the bottle and then scowls at it, waiting for it to refill.

[searchandrecovery]

"That's a very impressive scowl, dude, but your bottle isn't going to magically fill up. Sorry. That was still a decent amount of whiskey though, you've got to be feeling something. At least."

[depthlesslock]

'All this tech and we don't have automatic refills,' he grumbles. That would be a great thing. 'Not enough. 'Nother one.'

[searchandrecovery]

"Maybe you'll design one, and then you'll be set for life. No more merc work for you. Just chilling. It'd be great."

Wash takes the bottle from him. "Nah, you've had enough. I'll make you a deal, though. Just for tonight. 'Cause I'm feeling really nice. I'll actually dance with you." Wash isn't a great dancer, but he'll do anything at this point to cheer York up.

[depthlesslock]

'Be boring.' York likes being active. He loves working with locks, he enjoys the extra challenge of not getting caught on a job and he gets a rush from the adrenaline that comes with it. Even if he did invent an automatically-refilling-whiskey-bottle, he'd keep up his other work.

He needs no more encouragement. Every time they come to Errera together, York tries to get Wash to dance. Now, finally, is his chance. He grabs Wash's wrist and all but drags him to the dance floor.

[searchandrecovery]

Wash is already regretting this by the time they reach the dance floor. He likes watching other people dance, he likes the idea of dancing, but he's not good at putting it into practice. He hates feeling like he's being stared at or judged. And on the dance floor, he feels plenty of both. He tells himself that if he follows York's lead he won't look like a total idiot, but that doesn't do much to alleviate the awkward feelings.

He looks around at all the other dancers, then back to York, waiting for some indication of what he's supposed to do.

[depthlesslock]

The thing about Errera and most clubs is that there's no set way to dance. There's no moves to each song, no rules. Just the press of people against each other, moving in time to the music. Of course, some people do bust out the moves, and occasionally York is one of those, but as long as you just get in there and move you're good to go. It's getting Wash to move that's the problem.

He pulls Wash into the crowd and lets go of his hand to start moving to the music.

[searchandrecovery]

Wash sways back and forth, and you squint, he's moving almost rhythmically. He's staying pretty close to York. Pressing into the other people would feel like a violation of personal space, and if he's not too close to them, he can pretend he's not there. That it's just him and York and lots of loud, flashy things.

[depthlesslock]

York makes sure he doesn't get separated from Wash in the writhing mass around them. The younger merc doesn't go clubbing much and it's clear he isn't entirely comfortable here, so York's happy to stay by him as they dance.