log - too tired for title whee - closed to B1 and A4, open to those likely to wander by

[conning]

Who: B1: Closed to Neal and residents; A4: open to B1 and those who wish to poke their heads in because socializing and open doors
When: Early September--on a Sunday and then the following Wednesday. Why the following Wednesday? Idk man I just picked something.
Where: B1 on Sunday, and A4 on Wednesday IG???
Summary: Meredith invited Neal to visit, and Neal suggested making it a mingle for both apartments. Then Malcolm invited Neal over and Neal decided to do a solo trial run or something like that.
Warnings: Not at the moment. except possibly meredith giving neal a shovel talk


B1 - SUNDAY

Okay, well, he meant to make it simple. But then he got carried away, because that's who he is as a person. So here is Neal managing two coolers, one slightly smaller than the other. He has to set one down in order to knock on the door.

The coolers themselves contain tiny servings of about a dozen different dishes, from tiny seasoned steak slices of varying doneness to little onigiri stuffed with lightly salted salmon. If it's stupidly elaborate, feel free to assume there is some dressed-down (read: locally available) version available in miniature.

The other cooler has small bottles of cheap wine and those little paper cups that barely hold a mouthful. He sets the wines with the foods that pair best.

Look this is who he is as a person, okay? At least he's dressed normally--turquoise sweater, close-cut jeans.

[ SUPPLY ACTIVITIES AS YOU WISH, both with Neal and each other. ]


B1/A4/Passerby - FOLLOWING WEDNESDAY

Okay, so the tiny food was a bit much. Only God can judge him.

At least this time it's a plain old cook-out with a grill on the patio of A4. Yes, the grill items include salmon, chicken, and... tofu in several marinades including citrus-chipotle.

Only God can judge him.

There's also a spread of perfectly ordinary salad-shaped objects and tiny pickles et cetera inside on the kitchen counter.

[ SUPPLY ACTIVITIES AS YOU WISH, both with Neal and each other. ]

Comments

[conning]

His only reaction to her tone is a raised eyebrow. Well, then. Masks dropped and gloves off, apparently. His own voice drops a register and his tone stays deliberately even.

"Stunts. Okay." He gestures inside with the tongs, his own focus flicking there for a moment before returning squarely to Meredith. "Another perspective might be that I enjoy cooking that can be shared beyond a cursed cat-boy and a cannibal."

Silently, he apologizes to his roommates.

[henchgal]

"That's nice, and it's appreciated, and we might discuss the cannibalism at a later time. I certainly don't like always being the one to shop and cook for B1. However, that's not what I'm talking about. Neal, I believe you to be at least as perceptive as I am, so I'm certain you've noticed how Malcolm acts around you."

'At least', probably more. She gets the sense that if Neal were operating at 100% and not holding back, he'd be able to beat her in any game of cat-and-mouse.

[conning]

The calm, disinterested façade fades after a moment. He looks past her toward the apartment, his emotions as open as anything now.

"I like him," he admits quietly. "And I know he likes me. I can't change that, but I don't..."

He sighs, rubbing his face with one hand, flipping a piece of chicken that's about to get too brown with the tongs in the other. "I won't avoid him, if that's what you want me to do. He's smart, he's curious, he's unpretentious. You don't get a lot of the former and you get plenty of pretention without the former."

Neal looks down at the cheap little grill.

[henchgal]

"I'm not asking you to avoid him. I wouldn't do that to him, first of all."

Meredith lets out a sigh. "Malcolm is an amazing man. He's also one who's been hurt, a lot. I need to know that you're not going to break him any more than he's already been. I need to know he's safe, with you. Alright? That's what this talk is, not me trying to warn you off."

The depth of her caring for Malcolm is obvious, as she lets her own cold hard mask slip away.

[conning]

Neal relaxes at that, as much as he ever relaxes any more.

"He asked me out," Neal says. "I turned him down as gently as I could. It's not that I wouldn't. He seems amazing. I just..."

He studies her for a moment, tugging on the reins of openness before he goes too far. He likes that she's looking out for Malcolm. He still doesn't trust her, or anyone here, really. "It's not something I can do right now."

[henchgal]

"Alright. As long as you're clear with him and don't play with his heart, I can accept that."

She nods slowly, letting our a big old sigh. "He deserves better people around him than me. But he's got me, and that's what counts right now."

[conning]

Neal's smile this time is a little ironic. "The good people always seem to deserve better than they get."

He's very clearly including himself in that group along with her.

[henchgal]

She walks closer, so she can lean on the balcony railing, resting her cane up against it.

"Yeah, they do. Him and Tim both ought to have better than me in their space."

[conning]

Neal watches her sidelong for a moment.

"One question for each of us, answered honestly?"

It's a dangerous game, incredibly dangerous, but no one ever said Neal Caffrey went out of his way to avoid possible disaster.

[henchgal]

It's a good offer, one that seems entirely fair.

"Fine. You ask first." Because she wants to know where his head's at before she decides how hard to hit him back, how incisive a question to ask to show she sees him.

[conning]

Neal considers a moment. Tilts his head. Lands on:

"Whoever taught you that voice, that tone--did they teach you, or did you learn it from them by being ruthlessly smart and observant?"

[henchgal]

Not the question she expected. It's...well, enough to lower her guard a little. She manages something shaped like a smile, but her eyes show a bit of confusion, defensiveness. "The latter. I wish I were able to quibble the use of the word ruthless in that part of the question, but I can't."

More than a bit of defensiveness. Part of her wants to offer more words, wants to comment about how no one would ever have taken her seriously enough to teach, how no one ever thought of her as more than an automaton or piece of furniture, and a broken one at that. But she holds back for the moment, trying to formulate her question.

[conning]

Neal lifts his shoulders in a long, almost apologetic shrug. "Birds of a feather."

[henchgal]

That in itself tells her a lot, without her using her question. But it leaves her unsure what's important to ask.

"It might be worth flocking together, here, given that." No, that's not a question. It's still important to state explicitly.

[conning]

A tiny laugh. "Protect the people who deserve better?"

He salutes her with the tongs. "Though self-preservation is a admirable goal."

[henchgal]

"I meant more...compare observations on our shared situation. Keep one another appraised of things that might be worth noting. Like I said, you're at least as perceptive as me. Doing more bold things with it, back home, if I had to guess."

The tong salute makes her smile grow more real, a soft unvoiced laugh coming from her.

[conning]

He gives a tiny half-smile of his own. "In my boldness I may be paying attention to... certain aspects of the ADI buildings."

[henchgal]

"Offices or apartments, in particular?"

Actually, they're on the balcony, so there might be fewer places to hide bugs than inside. This isn't the worst place to talk. Not the best, she's still going to bear caution, but...but.

[conning]

"I have a very broad interest in modernist architecture." God, this is fun. He's missed it, the crooked conversational lines, information shared without the possibility of incrimination. Yeah, he gets a little bit of it when he works with Paris's less-than-savory side, but it's basic enough to be boring, the scripts all familiar exchanges made by necessity.

He shifts a few of the grill-objects to a plate on the little patio table. "Given my background and consultation work, I was thinking of making a bid for a position on security."

[henchgal]

“Be mindful if you do. Some of the others I’ve seen working security are tougher, rougher or more noticeably dangerous. I think I’d particularly hate to get on the wrong sides of Jaeger and Winter.”

But she’s been very good at staying on the good sides of both those gentlemen, herself.

[conning]

"Jaeger I've met, Winter I haven't." He makes a mental note to fix that as soon as possible. "We've got quite a crew here."

[henchgal]

"Winter is..." She hesitates, considering her words thoughtfully. "...a dangerous man who does not seem to have been in the practice of making decisions for himself, before coming here."

There's a bit of a gesture that accompanies that comment. Extrapolate for yourself, Mr. Caffrey.

"You're right about it being an interesting crew, though. The differences in worlds and cultures and experiences means there's a lot of chances to talk past one another if not careful. And just about everyone's got a trauma in their past. But that's true of people in all worlds, I figure."

[conning]

Not used to choosing for himself. Super. He files that away for later possible (hopefully not) use.

"Yeah. What hurts you blesses you, supposedly. Rumi was right about a lot of other things, why not that."

[henchgal]

She looks like she's about to retort, like there's something under the surface that she has to say to that which isn't kind or optimistic. But she swallows it down and shrugs.

There's no point in trying to tell people about 'what hurts you' from her point of view. There's no room to speak up about it.

"Sure, why not."

[conning]

He sees the expression on her face and winces.

"That was a stupid thing to say." Never let it be said that Neal doesn't acknowledge his interpersonal fuckups when it matters.