ArchivedLogs:Working Relationships

Working Relationships
Dramatis Personae Iolaus, Lucien	2013-04-08 '
Location <NYC> Tick-Tock - Greenwich Village
The quiet sound of soft music and softly running water greets the entrants to this tea house, playing from speakers hidden and trickling waterfalls cascading down the rocky fountains by the entryway. The ambiance here is subdued, a quiet escape from the bustle and noise of the city, focused on only one thing: tea. Tea of very good quality. They serve it in over eighty varieties, black and white, green and oolong, rooibos and herbals and mate, flavored and straight up. The seating here comes on cushions or kneeling chairs around low tables, the decorations in earth tones, and the knowledgeable wait staff is always helpful with a recommendation or a snack suggestion to pair with your drink. Behind the long counter along one side is an entire wall of bins of loose-leaf teas, available for purchase by weight. When the clock strikes 7 PM, Iolaus is standing outside Tick-Tock. He is dressed in somewhat formal clothing - a dress shirt and a pair of slacks that hang easily off of his body. No one seems to notice him, however, nor the man standing not far from him - a tall, regal, quite attractive man dressed in a suit. Not even the valets standing feet away pay attention to them, as they chat and gossip about their co-workers. When the clock strikes seven pm, a dark car is pulling up in front of the tearoom. It takes a moment before Lucien pays and slips out, dressed dark as well. Neatly tailored slacks. A dark jacket with a mandarin collar. Red dress shirt. He only performs a brief sweep of the area, glancing up and down the sidewalk and then in through the window before slipping his phone out to check the time. A quick glance at its screen and he slips it away again, heading inside to get a table. Iolaus follows Lucien into the resturant, and the suited man follows him. Iolaus seems to fade into existance not far from Lucien, and he gently places a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Lucien," Iolaus says, softly, giving him a warm smile. "It's very good to see you again." he says. "How have you been?" The surprise!Iolaus at his shoulder brings the muscles in Lucien's arm into harder tension, for a moment, but his smile is quick and warm. "Iolaus. It has been too long." He leans in, brushing a light kiss against the other man's cheek before heading to their table. "Better than you, perhaps," comes with a faint note of amusement, though it is perhaps overlaid over a backdrop of concern, if the look Lucien sweeps Iolaus with is any indication. "If the news holds any truth." Iolaus shrugs his shoulders and gives a small smile. "Made some new friends in jail overnight." he jokes, lightly, as he places his hand gently on the other man's back and walks over to their table. He takes a seat across from Lucien and gives him a shy smile. "I'm sorry it has been so long since we were able to get together." he says, softly. "It has been a busy time." Not far from them, the suited man gets a table and seems to almost blend in to the furniture, perfectly unimportant. "Friends or /friends/." Lucien answers Iolaus's shy smile with warm amusement. He settles down onto a cushion, kneeling with his hands resting in his lap. "You need offer me no apologies, Iolaus. I can only imagine your life has been quite full. How are you doing with -- everything?" "Friends. I was only in jail for a night." Iolaus replies, kneeling down on the cushions and shifting to get himself more comfortable. "It has been a... trying few days, since that article came out. It feels all the more real, now." He sighs and shrugs his shoulder. "But it is done, and there is a freedom in that." Lucien pulls a menu towards himself, but doesn't open it. Possibly he has already memorized their entire tea selection. His fingers rest lightly on its cover. "Freedom. Of a sort, I suppose. How long, do you suppose, before the clinic is set to /open/? Long enough for the fervor to die down for a spell?" "Only to fire back up again once we do open our doors." Iolaus says, nodding once. He pulls the menu to him and opens it, eyes skimming down over the list as he continues, "Probably towards the end of the year. September, October? Maybe sooner, if I'm lucky, but the building has yet to break ground. We are behind schedule by a few weeks." "Still, that is a few months of peace. What will you do with it?" Lucien's lips twitch slightly. "Besides work yourself half to death in preparation for the opening." His brows furrow, and he glances up at Iolaus's face. "Have you been having problems already?" "Well... I am not sure. My day job ended," Iolaus says, a little bit darkly. "I don't have any patients anymore - except one, of course. There is plenty of work to do for the clinic, though, and I may spend some time volunteering at a local clinic just to keep my skills up." The question causes him to pause for a moment. "Some. I am under 24 hour guard, now." "Really. Did they fire you." Lucien sounds bland with this, neither sympathetic nor particularly /not/, quiet and un/surprised/ but watching Iolaus thoughtfully. "Are you?" This statement puzzles him. He glances to Iolaus, and then glances around the room. "Yes. I was terminated the day the article came out." Iolaus says, and there is a not insignificant amount of bitterness in his voice. "Hm? Oh, yes. Alec is over there... somewhere." he says, waving to the resturant around them. "And, I'm sure, to anyone else we are quite boring and really not worth a second look. He is a very talented man." Lucien's gaze sweeps the room again, a little puzzled. "-- Who?" His head shakes, and it takes a moment for him to look back at Iolaus. "-- I hope you are getting a /hefty/ severance for that." "Alec," Iolaus calls out. It is as if the boring frumpy looking woman at the table not far from them reading thge newspaper somehow has turned into a very handsome looking man in a suit who regards them with a polite, even nod of his head. He turns his attention back to his menu even as he raises a hand to flag down a waiter. Tea, it seems, is a very familiar thing to him. Even as he flags down the waiter, he seems to become less interesting until he is that perfectly forgettable frumpy woman straight off of the back of the Clapham omnibus. Iolaus turns to smile at Lucien and give a little shrug of his shoulders. "Not as much as you might think. Then again, they did forgive all my loans when I became a resident, so, perhaps it evens out." Lucien blinks. His eyes narrow on the woman nearby, and he stays intently /focused/, not on her but on the man who nods to them, watching him with sudden sharp interest. "-- Intriguing." His eyes stay focused that direction, searching. There's a slight furrow in his brow as he answers, quietly: "-- Perhaps." There's a slow stretch of silence, and eventually his eyes leave the nearby table to return to Iolaus. "Losing your job is never easy. Will you be alright?" "Yes, I'll be alright. The clinic pays my salary, such as it is, so I'm not worried about not being able to eat, or not being able to pay rent." He hesitates, glancing down at the table. "But I will have to cut back on... everything else." he says, looking back up at Lucien. Though there is a small smile on his face, his eyes are sad. "I'm afraid I will not be able to see you again for quite some time, Lucien." he says, voice soft, that same heavy sadness filling them. Lucien freezes at this, green eyes fixing on Iolaus's face. He is silent. Swallows. A muscle twitches in his cheek, and slowly he lowers his eyes, exhaling a long breath. The menu gets apparently serious consideration, now. "That," he says at length, head bowing and a heavy weight settling into his tone, "is -- unfortunate." There's a long silence. His eyes close, for a moment. "Iolaus --" It's quiet, but it trails off into nothing. His hand shifts from his lap, stretching across the table towards Iolaus's. "Yes." Iolaus says, looking down at the menu. He reaches over and places his hand over Lucien's, his fingers running over the younger man's knuckles, gently. That same sad smile on his face hangs plainly, and inside he is no different. The excitement and happiness at seeing Lucien again is quenched by a sincere knowledge that this is, perhaps, the last time that they will meet. A quiet part of him is determined to eek as much enjoyment out of it, as if a man trying to savor a last meal before a long fast. A soft wash of feeling flutters out from Lucien's touch. It doesn't smooth over that sadness; there's a twing of /ache/ riding along within it. But it's warm, and soft, and washes out to creep into Iolaus and stay there. Lucien just looks down, at his menu. "We should eat." "Yes." Iolaus looks down at the menu, then glances around the room for a waiter. "Alec," he says, softly, and then flags down a passing waiter. "Hello." The waiter looks almost surprised to see them, and quickly sets out to take their orders. Iolaus orders a tourin soup and a mug of Russian Caravan tea, with a croissant on the side. He does not remove his hand from the other man's. Lucien requests an oolong. No food. Just tea. The twinge of ache spikes, and for a moment he withdraws his hand. When it returns, there is no more twinge. Just the soft-soothing-warm. And a continued quiet that lingers over the table. When Lucien's hand withdraws, Iolaus' face falls slightly, though it resumes its state when his hand returns. He looks down at the table, fingertips running over the other mann's hand again and again, as if trying to memorize the feeling. His eyes stare into the other man's, and though Lucien's ache has vanished, his has only worsened. He hesitates for a second, then withdraws his hand to take a steadying sip of water. From Lucien there is a long and lingering quiet. His hand turns over, fingers curling up around Iolaus's. The quiet steady warmth from his touch continues. It is only after their teas arrive with Iolaus's croissant that he speaks again. "I do have friendships outside of work, you know. And with Matt --" There is a slight hitch of hesitation, but only slight. "It is not as though we shall not see each other." Iolaus gives the other man a look of surprise. "Well, of course, I will continue seeing your brother, but..." he trails off, giving Lucien a curious look. "I did not think you would have counted me among your friends." he says, voice soft. A spark of something very hopeful shoots through him, and he smiles, warmly, a bit of that sadness fading away. Lucien returns Iolaus's look of surprise, when the other man speaks. It fades, though. Just thoughtful. "It's true enough I don't count many there," he says, after a pause. His free hand curls around his tea, lifting it but not drinking. Too hot. Waiting. Steam curls up around his face. "You will see me again, I am sure." Iolaus' smile widens and he pours a cup of his tea. "I am very glad to hear that, Lucien." he says, softly. He picks the mug up to his lips and takes a sip. It is the beginning to a much happier evening for Iolaus.