LOG: In Need of Assistance

[depthlesslock]

What: Meeting up and seeking help
Where: Common Ground coffee shop
When: 10/4 Noon
Warnings: None

York would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised that Delta had called him so soon to arrange to meet up again. That's three times in the last two weeks the man has called for company despite his insistence that he's a busy guy. Not that York's complaining, he enjoys Delta's company more each time they see each other, but he is surprised.

He's on time. Well, Delta seems to be making the effort, the least he can do is return the favor. Once he's inside, he removes his helmet and looks around. Common Ground is a good place, he's enjoyed it's coffee and food a fair few times, and of course it has the delicious, rich scent that comes with any good coffee shop.

Spotting Delta, he weaves through the tables towards him and sits down in the chair on the other side of the table, smiling. 'Hey there.'

Comments

[depthlesslock]

'Okay.' He starts off down the street, going slowly so Delta can catch up.

[protective_logic]

There is little Delta can do beyond follow. He has no where else to go. So... follow he does, a few paces behind York.

[depthlesslock]

The angle is awkward and annoying and he has to keep his head slightly turned so he can check Delta's stil there, but he doesn't say anything about it.

As much as he'd like to go to his favorite bar, he doubts Delta would appreciate a place frequented by mercenaries. Plus he doesn't want anyone he knows to see them. So he makes their way to The Hearth which, while good, is less well known.

[protective_logic]

The closer they get to the bar, the closer Delta sneaks toward York. The last time he was somewhere they served alcohol was a club. Not Errera, of course. But a club Omega had taken him to for his twenty-first because he wanted to experience it. Getting felt up by that drunk guy had not... been pleasant. At least his boyfriend should protect him, right?

"You think they really will serve me juice?"

[depthlesslock]

It takes a while for York to realise Delta's closing the distance between them and the realisation makes him smile a little. With any luck they won't part ways forever after this. Even if they break up, maybe Delta can frgive him enough to be friends.

'Yeah, sure. They have juice anyway to mix into cocktails and stuff, but they'll easily give it to you straight if you ask.'

[protective_logic]

"Give it to me straight but look at me sideways for being so backwards," Delta jokes under his breath.

[depthlesslock]

York chuckles softly as they reach the bar and he holds the airlock open for the two of them.

[protective_logic]

Delta freezes for a moment. He hadn't thought that York would hear that. But was the man laughing at him or at the joke? Interesting question.

"It wasn't that funny," he informed York as he stepped into the airlock.

[depthlesslock]

'It was clever,' he says as the door behind them closes and the hum of cycling air fills the small space. 'In a mildly funny way.'

[protective_logic]

"Oh," Delta says in shock. It was? Of course. That sounds good. He shifts his grip on the bag nervously. "They aren't going to think we're here to rob them, right?"

[depthlesslock]

'Why would they think that?' he asks, tilting his head. The red light flares green and they're let through into the main bar area.

[protective_logic]

"The duffel," Delta answered as he followed York in. "Can we sit away from the bar?"

[depthlesslock]

'Nah, don't worry,' he assures him, taking his helmet off and leading the way to a table away from the bar as requested. 'Your duffel's mostly full, not enough room for the amount of money you'd bring a duffel for.'

[protective_logic]

"Guns," Delta counters, his voice at a whisper. But yeah, the duffel is mostly full. Filled with his other clothes and shoes. His few possessions.

[depthlesslock]

'If you're putting guns you plan to fire in a bag, you're either an idiot or a rookie. With all the jostling a bag gets? Not a good idea.' There, a table for two a good distance away from the bar with few people sitting close by. Perfect.

[protective_logic]

"Should... I be concerned that you know that?" Delta asks as he sits down.

[depthlesslock]

'It's never happened to me if that's what you're asking,' he says, sitting down opposite him. 'Or anyone I know personally. Other than tht, it's just common sense.' Provided you know a bit about guns.

[protective_logic]

Delta shrugged. Not exactly 'common' sense. "Thank you for this. I just need... to think."

[depthlesslock]

'No worries, D. You've got a lot to think about.' Some of which is his fault. 'Want me to go get us drinks?'

[protective_logic]

"Please," Delta agreed, tucking the duffel in under his legs. "I spent a lot of time thinking, planning, you may have thrown a bit of a wrench in my plans."

[depthlesslock]

'Yeah, sorry about that,' he says ruefully, rubbing the back of his neck. 'What juice do you want? Or they do things like lemonade if you'd rather have that.'

[protective_logic]

"It doesn't matter," Delta admits. "Provided there is no spice, I'll be fine with whatever they bring."

[depthlesslock]

'You got it.' He makes his way over to the bar and orders an orange juice for Delta and a lemonade from himself, then heads back. No alcohol, no need to make Delta any more anxious.

[protective_logic]

Which Delta clearly is, seeing as he's playing with his thumbs. Hasn't gotten to chewing at his nails yet, but god he misses his hair to toy with. At last he pulls his helmet off and sets it aside. He needed to figure this out.

[depthlesslock]

York sits down again and watches Delta carefully, notcing the fiddling. For once, he doesn't say anything yet, the last time he did, he made things worse.