Post by Scribe on May 14, 2011 3:06:57 GMT -5
NEW YEARS EVE
Outpost
In retrospect, Stark supposed he did have this coming. After all, Mason was pretty pissed when Stark delivered him to the front door of the McCulloch home on Christmas morning, reeking of liquor and wearing only a floral sheet. Stark had helpfully knocked on the door and left Mason who was still passed out on the front porch before getting the hell out of there. Apparently Mason's dad hadn't been amused. Still, Stark had viewed the pilot as a benign threat, refusing to believe that Mason was capable of causing any real mischief.
Besides, who'd be pissed at his best friend on New Year's Eve?
New Years Eve was the cosmos answer to a universal free for all. A last chance to make a complete ass of yourself before the new year kicked over. Mason had invited Stark to their private room at the Outpost and the doctor had arrived, dressed in usual dark shirt and slacks, expecting to get laid after much drinking. Entering the room, he lowered himself into the velvet couch, a drink in hand, waiting for the revelry to begin.
A soft knock on the door occurred and then a voice, a female alto voice, "Tennyson?"
Immediately, Stark tensed. Tennyson. He hated that name. Sitting up right, he went to the door and opened it. "Yeah, I'm Stark." He said suspiciously.
Slow the door opened and a tall blonde in a shorter than knee length snug skirt walked in. Her skirt was shiney silver and her top teal green, which Mason always thought matched her eyes. "Yes. Hi Tennyson Stark." She waved and smiled. The silky top was low cut, revealing a small amount of potential but the real feature, next to her firm, worked out ass, was the glasses. Narrow and boxy, looking much like a trendy librarian, she entered and shut the door behind her. Clutching tight to her purse. "It's nice to see you again."
Stark's eyes narrowed. The woman hot as hell but he didn't recognise her, at least he thought he didn't. Then again, there were so many women when he got drunk, it was hard to say. "Nice to see you," he lied, just in case she had been a previous conquest since he couldn't tell her, he didn't look at the face of a woman when he fucked her.
Quite happy to hear that, she all but giggled and moved forward to where he sat on the couch, standing before him. "Do you mind if I sit down?" Once allowed, carefully, she crossed her legs and lay her purse over her lap. "I'm so happy that you remember me. To tell you the truth, after all these years, I didn't think you knew my name."
Shit. Stark cursed under his breath. Who was she? He'd certainly consider getting her drunk and doing her but he had no idea who she was and that bugged him. Furthermore, how come she was here. "Yeah please," he gestured to the modular seat that ran the length of the room. "Can I get you a drink?" Lots of drinks.
"Sure." With a nod, she sat there. Waiting. Almost with an odd expectancy.
"What can I get you?" He asked her after a minute of silence, wondering if she thuoght he was a fucking mind reader or something.
Her smile was pealy white, teeth perfectly straight, as she answered happily, "The usual's fine."
Okay he was missing something here. "What's the usual?" He asked her, puzzled. Oh Christ, had he banged her before and forgotten. Stark was starting to get anxious.
Disappointment crossed her features and she looked at him before regaining her composure. "Dirty martini. Please Tennyson."
It wasn't hard to miss the pout of disappointment and Stark thought quickly on how to salvage the situation. "Sorry, I'm just so nervous to see you again, it completely slipped my mind."
It's been a little while, hasn't it?" Whatever questioning had been on her mind, Stark made up for it quickly. Restoring her confidence. "I didn't realize how shy you were. And I'm so glad you wanted to spend tonight with me." A very special night.
"Shy?" Stark did a double take. "Yeah, when I'm in the presence of a beautiful woman...its hard to keep a straight thought in my head." He offered her a smile and then took a large sip of his drink for effect. "Why don't I just go get you that martini." He stood up, looking at her and uttering an old Arab curse on Mason that would cause a thousand fleas to infest the man's crotch hairs.
Watching after him, she almost giggled again and nodded vibrantly. Having no idea that sitting at the bar, secretly laughing his ass off because he pinned the tinest of recorders to her purse, Mason all but had tears in his eyes. And he was expecting Stark to exit to get drinks, so he reached up to his ear where the tiny receptor lay deep and wiped his face. Doing his best to act normal.
Almost stumbling out of the room, Stark had no idea who the girl was. Not a one. He wracked his mind to remember when he had bedded her. Obviously Mason had coached her but what exactly had the fly boy done? He walked towards the bar when he saw Mason. "You bastard. What the hell is going on?"
"Hey!" The CO of the NX Grifters greeted, "Happy New Year Buddy!" Not bothering with trivial questions (why should Stark start getting answers now?), Mason clapped him on the back. "How's the date going?"
"Hot and nice stems, eh?"
"Date?" Stark stared at the man in something a kin to terror. "That girl thinks we're on a date? Who the hell is she? Did I sleep with her? I don't remember sleeping with her." He came up to Mason, scowling.
"Oh, it's not a date? You don't like her?" Questions answered with questions. Mason tried to pull off looking bonified confused.
"I don't date," Mason hissed, keeping his voice low. "You're responsible for this." he said as the light of understanding came down on him. "She giggles. I don't date women that gigle when they're still sober. Once they're drunk they can giggle all they want."
Hands up in the air, leaning back away from the bar from the comfort of his stool, Mason protested, "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Buddy ol' pal of mine. I resent the implications." A glance around, because a few bar fixture drinkers on nearby stools were semi-listening, Mason turned up the act. "You're saying this like she wasn't already prepped with a shot before going in there."
"Bullshit," Stark growled. "You fixed me up...with a woman?" He accused Mason, uncertain of what to do. The girl was very nice of course, and that was the problem. "I don't date and certainly not with nice girls."
Turning to his drink, a sarcastic shrug, the act continued, "Gee. That's just too bad. I mean," he gulped back before setting down the glass, pointing to the front of Outpost. "There's the door then." With another grandiose gesture, his voice grew in volume. The other hand pointing in the direction towards the back room. Arms crossed like the Scarecrow, Mason spoke in loop, "And there's the pussy. Hmmm. Door. Pussy. Door. Pussy." To the guy next to him, a drunken regular named Harv, he said, "Which woudl you choose?"
"Pussy." Harv looked at Stark like he was a pussy.
Stark shot Harv a look. "Ever got a case of Klingon Herpes? Keep saying that and you will."
"Choice seems obvious to me," Harv muttered, going back to minding his own business. Stark's best buddy in the world simply sat there with his arms still crossed, as if waiting to see which route Tennyson would choose.
"Jesus Christ," Stark swore, actually starting to sweat. "Get me a fucking dry martini." He glared at Mason with a look that said 'payback's a bitch.'
The Canadian born simply looked semi-shocked. "What?!?"
"That's what she drinks." He growled. "Dry martinis and keep it coming."
"Of course she drinks dry marinis. Dirty ones, if I'm not mistaken. With half an olive only." Got you, you fucker. "Two dry, dirty martinis over here for this lucky sonofabitch please!" Mason was enjoying this too much and heard a small phrase in his ear. He made sure to keep the ear piece out of Stark's line of vision. "Here, go back in there and i'll give you a hint, okay?"
"You will pay for this for Maxine," Stark grumbled and looked at Harv, "the martinis are for her. I'll have scotch straight."
Drinks were poured and Mason only tensed slight. "So you want the hint, or not?"
"Give it to me," Stark replied uncomfortably, his gaze shifting to the private room. A nice girl no doubt but not by the time he was done with her. With any luck, the next time they met, Giggles would slap him and tell him never to call.
"Her first name..." This is like shooting fish in a barrel. I should have tried this years ago. "Starts with the same initial that hangs on her necklace around her neck. That means, you have to look above her tits and pay attention to the alphabet for a second."
"That's not a hint," Stark retorted, "that's fucking scrabble! What's her name?" He reached for the collar of his shirt, tugging it.
Mason took his beer and pretended to think. "I don't remember."
Stark's expression hardened. "You're just loving this aren't you?"
"You bet your ass I am." His face couldn't hide it anymore and when all of Stark's drinks were ready by the bartender, Mason handed them over. "Here you go, Romeo. Get back to your date." The silent snicker almost shook his shoulders off.
"This is such a bad idea," Stark grumbled, taking the two drinks and making his way back to the room, giving Mason a final scowl before he headed back to the girl. He tried to remember when he had actually sat across a woman at dinner and to his dismay realised it was Vera. After the divorce, he was so put off by the whole notion of marriage and relationships, Stark had thrown himself head first into the joy of casual sex and milking his doctor status for all that it was worth.
It was a good life.
She was sitting in the same spot, same position, and hadn't moved when Stark walked back in the room. "Was the ordering of the drink okay Tennyson?" The blonde looked up at him, wondering why he had been gone so long and if Tenny had actually thought not to return out of nerves. It was a sweet thing, actually.
She was a pretty thing, Stark had to admit with a great rack, Mason hadn't lied about that. As he brought the drinks, he took the opportunity to examine her cleavage to see the necklace with a letter pendant. 'K'. Kristine. Kerry. Karen.. once again Stark cursed Mason and his so called clue. I'll get you fucker, just you wait.
"Oh yeah," Stark replied sitting down next to her, planning his attack. Get drunk. Bang her. Never call her again. Yeah, that works. "Just ran into a..." he resisted the urge to say asshole, "friend outside."
"Oh?" She smiled and took the drink, taking a small sip. "It's nice to run into friends. I typically don't come here though, or know anyone." Almost shy, she smiled, "Except you." Knowing he was pressed for words, she tried, "Do you come here often?"
With a perfectly straight face, he answered. "Not that often." Just to be safe, he listened for lightning in case he was going to be struck down for lying his ass off. "So tell me about yourself...what's a nice girl like you doing with a doctor like me?"
That caused a laugh and she lifted her hand to gently touch the pendant that dangled there. "Tennyson, you're so funny! I always knew you were smart, but not funny." She lightly slapped his arm, more of a brush of fingertips, " 'Tell me about yourself', " she couldn't believe it, "As if I don't see you everyday!" Almost a snort sounded but she caught herself, very quickly. There was nothing attractive about a snort.
Everyday?[/] Stark stared at her, trying to hide his surprise. He'd recognise her....uhm face if he saw it everyday. And then being Stark wondered if she'd make that sound when he was banging her. "Well I'm full of surprises. But you look so different now, its no wonder I'm doing a double take seeing you tonight, as opposed to seeing you usually."
Maxy you are a dead man.
"Thank you," she blushed and sipped her drink. "I do feel different tonight." Just like him, she added with glee, "Adventurous." Her purse fell off her lap, onto the couch cushion and unsure what to do with both hands, she held the martini glass with the other now as well. "Why did it take you so long to want to date me? You could have approached me at any time and I would have said 'yes'." Instead of sending a friend like a note in study hall, but she understood that too.
It was to his credit that he maintained a game face when he was certain he could hear the sniggering beyond the walls of the room. Fucking juvenille, he thought to himself. "Well you're not the kind of girl I usually date." He said taking a real look at her, beyond the cleavage, which was fucking amazing. "You're a lot...nicer."
The comment was funny to her and she giggled again. "What type do you usually date?" If she was nicer, was he dumped a lot? Did the girls take advantage of him, and use him because of money or status? Were they downright mean and drained him of his hard earned credits? Doctors did make a lot of salary but that never interested her. She simply always found Tennyson attractive.
"Girls that don't stick around," Stark replied. Well it was sort of the truth. Although that giggling was going to get old real fast. "So tell me about yourself, Mason would haven't done you justice."
"Oh I don't know about that," a hand came down from her drink. "He certainly did you more than justice Tennyson." He was awful dreamy up close. "Well. Let's see." Her mind was thinking on what she might say that a doctor would find important and intellectual. Especially on such an important night as New Year's. "I like to listen to classical music and read books. There's a lot of great old classics that I enjoy, especially David Copperfield." She thought what else did she do? It was like Mason told her to, to think of these type of questions to ease the 'getting to know you' period. The Grifter CO was a good coach. "And I like reading the new and upcoming periodicals about our line of work that are published every month. I found your article on 'Alien diseases' a most facinating read from the July issue."
Jesus Christ. Maxy, you are going to pay for this. Not for torturing me but because this girl may actually like me. Shit.
Stark found himself rethinking his strategy. He hadn't been with anything that had a brain attached to a great rack and couldn't do incredible things to a cherry stem with her tongue since he walked out on Vera. "Classical music?" Stark raised a brow. Good, nice safe subject he could use to stall for time. "Who's your favourite composer?" He asked.
"Mozart of course," her enthusiasm spilled over and she became almost animated, setting down her drink. "He wrote so many beautiful operas and concertos and..." A sigh, she shook her head. "Sorry. I am sounded like a school marm I bet." She was accused of that once. Dumped because of it.
"Its okay," Stark smiled at her, oddly enough it was a genuine smile. "I like Für Elise. Once upon a time, I used to play." He confessed and wondered if he had ever told anyone that but Hans.
Eyes almost left the face. "You're kidding!" Shocked, she added, "I love Beethoven! He's so emotional and musically inticing and..." A shake of her head. "I used to play flute. What did you play? Piano? Organ?"
"I used to play the piano," Stark smiled, wiggling his fingers. "Doctor's hands, perfect for it."
A nice girl. She was a nice girl. Sweet. Smart, probably the kind of a girl someone less jaded than him would adore, would be able to give her the kind of relationship she wanted. All the strategy and the revenge and fucking Mason had forgotten one goddamn thing - the girl.
With a look down, she nodded, "You do have handsome hands." A small giggle, she added, "I hope that's not too bold of me to say."
"Not at all," Stark thought and then took a deep breath. This has to be done...Tennyson. You can't use this girl and toss her on the heap like the others. Unfortunately, he knew of only one way to do this. Reaching for her hands, he replied, "not as pretty as yours." He lifted one of her fingers and slid it into his mouth, seeing how she would react to this.
Instant freeze overcame the muscles of the blonde and she looked at him. Staring as if this were really happening. Okaaaaaay, was all she could think and found her heart racing and stopping at the same okay. A small, almost meak, "Thank you," escaped her lips as her mind was trying to process.
"You're very beautiful," Stark said, his voice dropping an octave, as he progressed to the other fingers, before moving along her wrist, charting a sensuous journey of small, delicate kisses along her arm.
The feeling caused a crazed mix of emotions electrifying throughout her body and she closed her eyes to not only steady herself from the fear but to somewhat savor and harness the like. It was kinky. Something she read about in her private behind quarter doors books. The shy man and the beautiful woman. She was afraid and exhilirated. Uncertain what to do. "Thank you," she repeated, quieter than before.
He could feel her anxiety, trapped between want and propiety. He appreciated that, wished it could be different but any scenario he came up with ended up hurting her. He was a bastard but he wasn't that much of a bastard. This way, it was quick and she'd sting for awhile but her dignity would be intact, her self worth. "No, thank you," he said shifting closer, claiming her mouth in what was first a chaste kiss that intensified into something heated, dangerous.
Oh God. It was all she could think and feeling him on her was more than she could bear. How often had she had this fantasy, walking into Sick Bay and seeing him working? How many times had she wished she could be with Dr. Stark, however this... like this... not like this... A willful cry came, much like a mouse squeak, "Tennyyyyson?" She tried to pull away.
"Come on," he said bracing himself inwardly, his hand sliding along a thigh, "You know you want this. We like each other? What's the problem?" The problem was nice girls did not spread on the first date, and certainly not in the first hour of meeting him.
"I." Swimming. Emotions and thought process was swimming at what he did. "I do. Want." Taking a hold of his hands, both his strong ones in her delicate slender fingers, she pulled them away. "Not like this," she pleaded.
"Christ, you're not one of those are you?" Stark looked at her. "Come on live a little, I'll make you feel so good, you wont' worry about a thing." He kissed her lips again. Her tipping point was close, he prayed.
His word cut. Deep and cruel. Everything she thought she had observed about the professional shattered in that moment and she found herself scared out of her mind that she might actually fall victim to... "Please, stop." Afraid if she pushed him away, that would only anger Doctor Stark, her only defense was to back off. Back away, and hope she might scramble to her feet and snatch her purse. Make a dart for the doorway before she became another statistic.
"Jesus," Stark pulled away, seeing that he had reached his goal. "I don't understand, I thought we were having fun." He retreated but remained just close enough to be intimidating while giving her the opportunity to get away.
Rapid shakes of her head and she stood up, her purse clutched to her chest as she walked away backwards in her heels, working hard not to panic, turn and run which might give him the opportunity to charge and grab her. "I. I'm sorry." Her heart was beating in her chest so badly, she could barely think of anything but failing to get to the door. The blonde hair looking almost dead against once pretty but now pale features. "I need to go." Feeling the door behind her, she slapped the panel and charged out into the mass of New Years crowd. Disappearing within ten feet and shoving her way through to flee to a place that was safe and free.
Stark sucked in his breath and drained the scotch he had only half drunk. Tomorrow, he'd talk to her, tell her things had gotten a bit further than he like. Apologise perhaps. She might accept it but she was never going to be in the same situation with him again. Once he had finished drinking, downing her martini too. He stood up and left the room, going to find Mason.
At the bar, the tears that were once in his eyes and the fist pounding against the bar that near got McCulloch kicked out were no were to be seen. Instead, he sat still and had the ear piece plucked out. Deep and safe within the front of his slacks pocket. Eyes on the back hallway, he continued to scope it out and waited for Stark. The man would leave eventually and Mason stayed where he was earlier on his barstool. When he saw Tennyson emerge, he didn't say a word nor moved.
Stark was actually angry. It had been a while that he had been this pissed but he was mad and instead of speaking, his response to Mason was expected to have been having a great old time was to slug the guy right in the jaw. Of course, he wasn't used to fighting so the first thing he did after he knocked Mason off the barstool was to curse at the flaring pain across his knuckles.
"Fuck!" He growled. "How the hell do Sharks do this?" He grumbled clutching his hand.
Since he was listening in the entire time, and more or less got the jist of the finish line, Mason wasn't figuring Stark would be happy with him. Then again, in watching the good doctor approach, the last thing McCulloch expected was for Tennyson to pull punches either and the one that landed in his face was full of surprised force. Into the gathered crowd, waiting to order drinks, he flew. Only the fact that there was a mass of people he landed on saved the pilot from cracking his head and ass on the hard floor. Angry at being pushed into, before Mason could gather his thoughts and protest more than the initial grunt, two large civilians grabbed him and threw him back towards his stool.
Many thoughts whipped through his head but the only one that made it out was, "Whatthefuck?!" when he grabbed with both hands onto the side of the stool before it plowed right through his teeth. Catching himself, near on his knees, his head swiveled quick up and over at Stark. Tennyson wasn't the only one with fire behind his eyes.
"I get it," Stark glared at him. "You wanted to get me back for Christmas at your folks. Accepted, I can deal. But for Christ sake, didn't you even think about the girl Mason?" He demanded, wincing at his busted up hand. "The one that thinks I'm crazy for her, the one whose going feel like dog shit when she worked out she was just the butt of someone's joke? Did you think about that?"
People were looking over at them, and in hearing Stark's tone, Mason could only shake his head and get on his shoes. "We're taking this outside," he nearly demanded back in turn, reaching up to feel where he tasted blood from a lucky skin split against his tooth shot. He couldn't believe Tennyson hit him.
Stark stormed out, cradling his hand and examining his split knuckles with a physician's eyes. He had a new found respects for the Marines after this. It hurt. Walking outside into the night air, there was no sign of the girl which was just as well. He didn't think he could face her after that. In fact, the rest of this night would involve a really tall bottle of Romulan ale.
People were not making this easy and doing his best to split the Red Sea of drunken partiers, McCulloch was shoved out of the way more than once. Following the good doctor, once they hit the outside of the building, Mason grabbed Tennyson by the shoulder to turn him around, "Hey!"
"What?" He growled, "do I have to explain it to you again? The woman I fuck, know what to expect." Stark growled. "They know we're having a good time. They don't come into it with the impressing I'm going to send fucking flowers on Valentine's Day! Christ Mason, she was just a kid."
"It was just a DATE Stark!" Mason backed away, right and quick, not having seen Tennyson like this since the night he asked for the abortion. Unlike the last time though, he felt he was in the right. "I didn't ask you to talk to her like a sex maniac FREAK however. Geeze. You can be pissed at me for setting you up and maybe stretching the truth a little, but shit! You were the one that took it from nice chatting about music to Let's Get It On Or Else from zero to sixty!" He'd never done that to a girl. Never.
"Of course I did!" He shouted. "Because when I don't call her tomorow and I'm not going[/] to. She was going to figure it out and then I would have to tell her that everything you told her was bullshit! That I haven't been passing notes to her or noticed that she was alive until she walked through the door? What do you think was going to happen? She was going to feel like crap! Crap for being stupid enough to fall for your bullshit! This way," Stark took a deep breath. "This way, she counts herself lucky she got away from a sex maniac freak and doesn't feel any worse for it."
"Why would you even go that route, man? I mean serious! What do you think is going to happen after leave and Kimberly heads into Sick Bay, like always, to drop off reports? You think women remain quiet about shit like that?!"
"I''m going to apologise to her tomorrow and if I'm pretty fucking lucky, she's going to beleive me when I tell her that I don't usually hear no and maybe its for the best that things ended the way they did. Suffice to say, any fascination with me, is probably gone."
Mason shook his head, thinking this was probably the worst way to start off a New Years. He probably should have known, going into it like he had this past month. "Yeah. Suffice to say." He turned his head and spat out a thick wad of foamed mucus smeared with pink. "I can't believe you fucking hit me." The beers in his system had him mellow, other than the on edge accusations, and Mason had no will to strike back.
"I can't believe I hit you," Stark replied. "How the fuck do you guys do it? It hurts like a son of a bitch." He grumbled, looking at his hand. "I mean I've fixed a lot of injuries like this before but goddamn, it hurts."
"Pussy," he was still sore about getting knocked off the bar stool without warning and took pleasure in Stark's discomfort and pain. "You're an asshole Stark." Mason shook his head, "One, easy going, simple nice evening and you have to complicate it." Tonight was supposed to be fun, and started off that way, but Tennyson had to be... Mason didn't even know.
"I know what it feels like to feel shit on Mason," Stark looked at him. "If you had kept out of it, she'd have carried on her little crush until she actually met someone nice and then would have been the end of it. You telling her what you did, you set her up to be humiliated, if not by the truth, by me when I didn't call her. I liked her, I didn't want to see her hurt."
Again, he shook his head, as if what his best friend said didn't make any sense. "I did not shit on her." What the hell? "I told her a few things and maybe embellished a little. Helped her out." Mason bought the shirt, the purse. He even helped her with make up, although he had to pay a consultant for that too. "She was too shy to ever come out and you should see how she longed after you all the time. Why, every time I would come into Sick Bay and she was there, it's like no one else existed." Which, truth told, Mason wasn't used to when he was there, but he didn't mind it either. Kimberly wasn't his type. Not Stark's either but that was hardly the point.
Stark stared at Mason wondering if the guy was really that thick. "So you dressed her up like a show pony, told her stuff about my supposed feelings for her, which were no where close to the truth, playing on very real emotions that were just going to be destroyed, when it turned out that I had zero interest in her? Is that what you're telling me?"
"Okay," He was feeling backed into a corner, despite being out in the middle of the crisp winter air. His warm jacket was checked somewhere in that stupid coat check room where he met Justine about two months ago. Mason's head was spinning and he blamed the feeling of discomfort on the consumption of alcohol. "One small embelishment on you liking her. I mean, come on. You have to admit it... you might have liked her had you given it a chance. It wasn't like I told her you were Stark the Stalker or anything." Something was clicking and it was making his ribs ache.
"Shit," Mason spun as if he were on skates and ice, slipping a little on the light snowflaked walk way. "This was supposed to be a sweet revenge and funny night."
"Let me look at your face," Stark frowned and examined the jaw he had taken a swing at. "I've done it twice," Stark retorted, turning Mason's face left and right so he could see. There was a bruise and probably a laceration inside the mouth but nothing that wouldn't heal without a dermal generator. "I put myself out there and it ended badly. I told you before, I'm done. I don't want a relationship, I don't want to start thinking that everything works out because it doesn't."
About to protest but feeling not that great, Mason stood there and allowed himself to be manhandled by the doctor. At least his friend wasn't punching him anymore. "I'm not a baby you know eh?" He further grumbled, "It wasn't like your brush against my face was a real punch anyway. It was a cheap shot below the belt." When Stark was done, he shook it off and stepped back, tucking his hands under his armpits because he was cold. "You know, why is it I feel like shit now because you think I hurt that girl's feelings, yet it's okay for you to make me miss Christmas Eve and Christmas with my parents. Did you once think that my dad was waiting up for his favorite drinking buddy Christmas Eve or that my mom actually was able to wrap my presents this year for a change and cook hot cereal for Christmas?" Having Tony drag him in all but naked and drunk like a worthless lump of coal from Santa hurt, once Mason sobered up late that night and realized what he did. "When do you actually feel bad for what you did to me and them?"
"Right now," Stark said looking at him. "I'm sorry." He apologised earnestly. "I'm sorry I was an asshole. I guess sometimes I envy you Mason." He dug one hand into his pocket while the other was held up so the blood wouldn't rush to his fingers and make it ache more. "I envy what you have."
Given what they talked about on Christmas Eve Day, Mason only nodded and understood. True, his mom was sick and his dad was typically unhappy but they were his parents all the same and the only ones he had. Who loved him and he loved them, unconditionally, even when he was a horrible son. "I invited you over on Christmas Eve," Mason sighed and reminded in a gentle manner. "Even if it was only for an hour man."
"You may find this hard to believe," he met Mason's gaze. "It just makes me remember how much I miss mine. My mom drove me crazy, what with naming me Tennyson of all things and by that romantic drivel she wrote but she was unpredictable. I could tell every minute my dad was with her, he was crazy for her. All he ever wanted from me was my respect and I don't think he ever though he thought he had it. I was so wrapped up with being a doctor, didn't even think it bugged him I couldn't pick a pen and write the way he did."
He listened and nodded, finding an odd pleasure in trying to be supportive through stilled silence. When Tennyson revealed another onion layer, Mason could only try, "And you think it will never get easier?" Devil's advocate. Like his mother tended to be for the men in her life. Sick or not, when she was sharp, she never held back. "If you always avoid those situations, you're better off?" It wasn't antyhing Mason could answer.
"I'm just tired of trying. Vera finished me off," Stark shrugged. "Maybe, I don't know. Besides, I'm having too good a time getting you laid with double jointed women with questionable morals." He tossed Mason a smile.
"Yeah, about that," he wasn't going to push Stark any further tonight on the subject. If there was one thing McCulloch liked to think he prided himself on, it was knowing when to back off. The air cold and too serious for him conversation caused Mason shook it all off, "Let me get my coat and we'll go to Beasts. It's not a wild ride night New Years but at least it won't be here." Outpost had proven to be wild territory and he had enough excitement for a while. Mason hoped anyway. Besides, there was always potential at Beasts of running into old friends.
"Yeah, that works for me," Stark replied, thinking on how he was going to deal with Kimberley tomorrow. He'd let her down easy and grovel. He was used to that, he'd been married twice. "Those MACO women I hear are nova."
Mason nodded in agreement and reached in his pocket for the check ticket, turning to head back into Outpost but only brief. "They are." So were others. "Wait for me Tenny," that was the one name Kimberly never used, much to Mason's chagrin. Oh well. "I'll be right back."
As he left Stark outside and headed back in, he could only pray that the two of them didn't repeat Christmas Eve. Mason wasn't so sure he recovered right from Stark's temptations last time.
End