ghostthatlingers | Sanctum IC Contact

"I don't believe that would be appropriate." He'd deluded himself into thinking that they could share a roof and still preserve the carefully constructed formality that was necessary. Her doting on him and his reaction to her injuries proved how foolish that had been.

No, he needed distance. Even this was potentially too much, too informal. "I appreciate the offer."

She frowns and her eyes are studying his expression.

"You know I could keep you safe and you can actually trust me." Unlike Bifrons. With all the trouble protecting him before caused her, he should know that and maybe take advantage of her very generous offer.

"Indeed," Oh if only he could trust you Beta... but he's learned that lesson and there will not be a repeat. He tries to keep his expression unreadable, professional... but she's always been damnably good at it. "Never the less, I don't think I'm in any immediate danger. Should I feel the need for your services I will be sure to contact you."

She snorts. "When you need them, it might be too late by the time I get there, but fine. Your risk." If he wants to be dumb and stubborn, it's him that will suffer.

"Then I will just have to be cautious then won't I?" His tone is sharper than he'd wanted and he curses inwardly. Must she make an issue of everything? He takes a drink of water and tries to regain his composure.

"See how long that works, asshole," she replies with an edge to her voice. Why does she even care what happens to him? Ugh. She even bought the dick a gift. She could always get rid of it, but that'd be a waste of a bottle of wine.

He bites back the urge to call her a bitch in return. This, this right here was exactly why meeting like this was a bad idea.

Fortunately the server arrives with her drink and some bread sticks and breaks some of the tension. He helps himself to a bread stick.

The seething lowers once she has her beer and there's been some silence. Now's a good time to hand over his present as any before he says something else to make her want to smash the bottle on the table.

She places the bag on the table and slides it over to him. "Here. I got you something for the new year."

"How... unexpected. I'm afraid I have nothing to give you in return." He looks up, glances between her and the bag genuinely surprised.

When he sees what it is he goes quiet and pale... wine. A bottle of wine, it was a simple gesture when Allison was alive, he'd bought a bottle of wine to celebrate her coming home from her first long trip away. He bought another the day she left on her next and kept it until she returned. It became something of a ritual, she'd have to come home to help him open it. Why, why this gift?

"Texas, I... I can't accept this." He struggles to keep the strain out of his voice. Of all the things she could have chosen why this?

She has her reasons. Trying to find the line where Allison ends and Texas begins is something she's been struggling with since she realized who she was based off of. It's a compromise she's figured out and old habits die hard.

Part of her wants to know just how much the Director still holds on from that life, despite the years that have gone by and she had been hoping that maybe he'd appreciate this.

"Why not? It's a bottle of wine. I thought you might want something nice to drink at the start of the year."

"I don't drink." He looks at the bottle thoughtfully and sets it on the table. "I gave it up a long time ago."

She frowns. This is new information to her. "Why?"

"I couldn't have cared for Carolina and continued with my studies otherwise." Simple but truthful.

He'd held himself together well enough right after the news came, he had to be strong for Clair... and then the first anniversary came and he fell apart. That night he'd opened the bottle and drained it, soon after he switched to whiskey and it didn't take long for things to start to spiral out of hand.

It had taken an incident where if he hadn't been sober Clair would have gotten herself seriously hurt to scare him sober. He threw everything out and hadn't had a drop since. Instead he started pouring his energy into his work.

"It was a thoughtful gift."

She leans back in her seat and taps her fingers lightly on the table. The implication there was that he couldn't control himself around alcohol after Allison died.

"Things are different here. You don't have to go through the whole bottle in one night."

"Different isn't always better." He takes a drink of his water.

"No, it doesn't." She frowns again and glances down at her drink. "Does it bother you that I drink?"

"Texas, I have tried to treat you as your own independent being from the moment you were created. Whether you drink or not is your choice to make, not mine." He's not out to preach the merits of abstaining. For him it was a practical decision, just something that he had to do. Still, it does concern him that she has the memories of someone with a good tolerance and a body that hasn't had the chance to develop those same tolerances.

"Having said that, I would at least hope that you practice some moderation."

She has to resist the urge to roll her eyes.

"It's only been a problem once. I know how to keep an eye on my alcohol intake." That once may have involved an entire bottle of tequila being drunk between her and Church in the span of an hour, but there had been a lot of excitement involved and competition. It hasn't happened since, thankfully. Being sick the once was more than enough.

"Then I have no reason to be bothered, do I?"

Ah, good old negative reinforcement. Her stomach was a far better teacher than he could be.

"Good," she grumbles. As 'good' as it might be, her next sip of beer is much smaller than the last. It's strange to be around any iteration of Church that doesn't drink. She has plenty of memories of the Director drinking when he was younger and Church sure doesn't mind doing shots.

That was a long time ago and he was a different person. The server brings their meals and refills their drinks. Once they are left alone again he decides to change the subject.

"I've been given new quarters."

"Let me guess, you're going to keep the address a secret from me?" At least it's better than him living with that idiotic callsign. Now that her food is in front of her, she busies herself with cutting up her steak.

"Actually, no." He raises an eyebrow. "I mentioned it because I was going to tell you." After nudging his food around a little he takes a bite.

That's a change. "What district are you in?" she asks and watches him attentively. Hopefully one close to or near where she is.

"Here." He hands her a piece of paper with his address on it. He wasn't certain if he was going to tell her or not until that moment.

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