Charity Game (FINISHED)

[GUY "PSYCHE" ANANKE]

Guy liked his routine. Four times a week, he ate out at different, approved establishments. Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Saturday Guy ate out. Today, Thursday, meant he was going to a small, family owned Italian eatery. Usually it wasn't that crowded on Thursday evenings but with a wedding party crowding the small space that was different.

The waitress lead Guy through the back to get him seated without him touching anyone. She understood what he was like and she just helped him out. They made small talk while he cleaned the table and she cleaned his chair for him and then she was off, going to get his usual beverage of choice, purified water.

The wedding party was loud and rambunctious, the father of the bride trying to pull Guy into the party.

"No, no. I'm good. Thank you. Congratulations on the wedding." Guy said, waving the mustached man off. Guy smiled and nodded to him and the old man walked off, singing at the top of his lungs. Guy wiped the table down again, just in case the man go something on it. He heard the front door open and felt sorry for who ever it was wanting to eat. There were no open seats except for the one across from Guy.

Guy waved the waitress over as she made her way to the door. "I don't mind sharing if they want to eat here." He told her. She looked a bit surprised but nodded.

Guy wasn't a bad guy, but a little particular.

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

Someone needed to invent the self-filling fridge.

Oh sure, there were services that would fill it with groceries for you, but with how often Peter got caught up in case work, having anything fresh around the house was asking for trouble. Thus the self-filling fridge idea - only filling with what you needed, when you needed it.

However, since it was clear that it wasn't going to be invented in the next thirty minutes, Peter gave into defeat and tugged his shoes on to go and find something to eat. The city was famous for having a multitude of small places to eat, and not a chain store in sight. Peter didn't mind, but he was looking for a fast meal tonight. With that in mind, he headed down to the little Italian place not too far from his apartment. They were usually dead on week nights, which meant he'd probably get fed faster.

Only when he opened the door, the place was far from dead. There was some party going on. From the long, white dress one woman was wearing, he was willing to bet it was a wedding. When the father of the bride embraced him, Peter laughed and hugged the man back, thumping him on the back in celebration. Weddings sure made people friendlier than usual.

Even the people not celebrating were being awfully friendly. When he asked if there was any room, the waitress pointed him towards the back where there was a seat, if he didn't mind sharing. Peter wanted to laugh. Sharing wasn't a problem, especially if it was quieter back there than it was up with the wedding party. He thanked her and made his way back, smiling widely when he caught sight of the good looking man sitting alone.

"Hey there," he greeted, gesturing at the free chair. "This seat taken?"

[GUY "PSYCHE" ANANKE]

The man actually taking him up on his offer was a nice thing. Guy liked not having to eat alone, even if that meant simply sharing a table with a complete stranger. Guy was busy straightening his utensils when the man spoke to him. Guy looked up and smiled. "Feel free." He said simply, using a collapsible ruler he kept in his pocket to make sure all the utensils were straight and equally spaced. Once they were where they were supposed to be, he used a pencil he always kept with him to mark where they were to go and set about washing them. He used alcohol wipes he always kept handy to wash them entirely before using new wipes to wash his hands and yet another to wash the pencil away before painstakingly replacing each utensil.

Guy quickly swept the used alcohol wipes into a small ziplock bag, setting it discretely aside for the waitress to throw away. He knew his glass and plates were clean because they always followed his requested cleaning procedure and served him wearing plastic gloves.

Which is why he ate there.

Guy glanced up at the man, wondering how he was going to react to his unusual routine. Part of Guy was scared he would just up and leave, insult him, or agitate him by purposely messing up his place setting but he didn't even notice it. Guy was used to people messing with him or reacting negatively it almost didn't faze him. Almost.

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

Peter smiled when he was invited to sit, pulling out the chair and sitting down.

"Thanks. It's a little too merry in the main room for me," Peter admitted.

While it had been nice to be part of the party - briefly - the whole happy family thing wasn't his scene anymore. He wished them nothing but the best, but he wasn't up for the reminder that he wasn't ever going to have a moment like that. Also, he was hungry enough to eat a horse, and he had the feeling he'd get jostled to no end over there, which was definitely not good when you were trying to shovel food in your mouth.

He watched as the man started...cleaning. The place was fairly clean, but clearly he didn't think so judging by how he was scrubbing down his utensils. Peter watched, fascinated by the way he was so meticulous. Peter would never have the patience for something like that. He mentally shook it off as a quirk, figuring that it was, after all, better to be safer than sorry. And even if he was quirky, Peter felt at ease sitting in the calm part of the restaurant with someone who wasn't trying to hug him or get him to dance.

"So, come here often?" Peter asked, careful to keep his hands on his arm rests, just in case the man had scrubbed down his side of the table, too. "I'm Peter, by the way."

He didn't offer his hand, sensing it would just cause problems, but he did try to be as friendly as possible. He found it was the best way to start out with people he'd never met before.

[GUY "PSYCHE" ANANKE]

"Thanks. It's a little too merry in the main room for me,"

Guy smiled a little and nodded, doing last minute adjustments to his table setting. "Yeah, it's not normally like that." If it had been like that normally, Guy wouldn't frequent the place. He wasn't a fan of so many people. In fact, it could be argued that he wasn't a fan of people in general. Usually it was because they always seemed to do things wrong and it would bother Guy. This man though seemed to be different. He didn't mess with the table or offer his hand; Guy felt a silly little glimmer of hope that his guy would be different. He certainly was attentive and Guy greatly appreciated.

"So, come here often? I'm Peter, by the way."

Guy nodded. "I'm Guy. I come here every Thursday." he made himself take a sip of water to keep from launching into all the reasons why he ate there every Thursday. Guy's leg bounced under the table in an even pace, not too fast. Even though his guy was just a stranger, Guy didn't want to embarrass himself in front of his just yet with his usual tapping. The loud sounds from the main room were annoying but it wasn't enough to get him worked up.

Guy only needed to tap when he was worked up.

Without saying anything, Guy grabbed the box of wipes and offered it to Peter.

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

"I'm Guy. I come here every Thursday."

Peter grinned, watching as Guy visibly tried not to fidget, even though his leg was bouncing under the table. Sometimes, he had to fight that urge, too, but then there were all those social niceties. He was tempted to tell him just to fidget, but that might be a bit rude for a first meeting, so he stomped that idea down for now.

“Pleased to meet you, Guy,” he greeted. “Hey, seeing as how you come here every week, can you recommend something good to eat?”

Peter didn’t see any menus on the table, not that he minded. He usually just ordered whatever the person at the next table was eating, but it might be nice to get someone else’s opinion tonight.

He was about to start fidgeting himself when Guy offered him a box of wipes. Smiling gratefully, he grabbed a couple, rubbing them between his hands and fingers, before wiping the arms of his chair too – for good measure.

“Thanks. I should really start carrying these things around with me.”

It would probably be a good idea with how many people he ran into a day, how many door knobs he touched, not to mention petting Baze. However, it was a good day when he remembered his shoes, let alone wipes. And seeing as how he couldn’t remember ever being sick since he’d moved to New York, he was probably alright without them.

He frowned, wondering where he should put the used wipes, but he didn’t see anywhere. Shrugging, he just held onto it, sure that the waitress would take them when she came back around.

“So, Guy – what do you do for a living?”

Normally, he wasn’t one to prod his dining companions along, but this guy was intriguing.

[GUY "PSYCHE" ANANKE]

“Pleased to meet you, Guy. Hey, seeing as how you come here every week, can you recommend something good to eat?”

Guy wasn't sure how to answer that. He ordered the same thing usually, over and over again, because he knew he liked it. Guy wasn't particularly adventurous in any regard, let alone when eating. When Guy found something he liked, he stuck to it. Why take unnecessary risks?

"Um, well, I always get the pasta pomodoro. It's good." Guy shrugged and twisted his hands in his lap. "You should probably ask the waitress. She knows the menu really well."

“Thanks. I should really start carrying these things around with me.”

At that, Guy nodded eagerly. "Get the perfume free ones, they work the best." Guy always had wipes with him. It was too hard to ensure that the outside world was clean unless you made sure of it yourself. Guy, admittedly, was more than obsessive about it but that didn't mean that others couldn't be mindful as well. If people just took a little extra effort to keep clean, people wouldn't be getting sick all the time. New strains of the flu, colds, pneumonia, wouldn't be coming around if humans weren't such perfect incubators for them. Guy wasn't so stupid as to use anti-bacterial products too often, they helped viruses to create tolerance to the disinfectant in them.

“So, Guy – what do you do for a living?”

"Male model. I do print ads most of the time, not so many fashion shows." Guy said breezily, trying to brush the topic off. Being a male model wasn't always a respected thing. He was paid to look pretty and as far as he had experienced, 'real men' looked down on it as a profession. "What about you?"

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

"Um, well, I always get the pasta pomodoro. It's good. You should probably ask the waitress. She knows the menu really well."

Peter watched Guy twist his hands out of view from where he was sitting at the table. Peter wondered what made the man so anxious.

“Pasta Pomodoro? I haven’t had that in forever. It sounds awesome,” Peter offered, sitting back in his chair a bit. Truthfully, he’d eat most anything that someone else cooked, but pasta pomodoro did sound amazing.

When Guy nodded eagerly at his comment about needed to carry wipes, adding that the perfume free ones were the best, Peter couldn’t help but smile. The honest enthusiasm for it was refreshing. People didn’t seem to think that the small things were important enough to get excited about.

“I’ll remember to buy perfume free, then,” Peter promised. “How do you feel about hand sanitizers?”

They were all over the station, so he figured there was some merit to them, but they always seemed to make his hands feel stiff.

When he asked what Guy did for a living, he skimmed over it quickly. "Male model. I do print ads most of the time, not so many fashion shows."

“That sounds really interesting,” Peter replied, thinking it would be fun to just get his picture taken all the time. Of course, there was probably a lot more to it than that, but Peter didn’t see anything wrong with it. Guy was definitely pretty enough to be a male model. “You must get to wear a lot of neat clothing. Do you get to keep any of it?”

”What about you?”

“Well, I’m a detective with the NYPD. I mostly deal with kids and gangs,” Peter replied. “Nothing terribly exciting, but if you ever end up at the station, have them page Detective Peter Aramis.”

He grinned a little, thinking that would be one heck of a visit.
He heard a loud bang in the other room, followed by laughter and couldn’t help but chuckle. “The waitress must have her hands full with that group.”

[GUY "PSYCHE" ANANKE]

"How do you feel about hand sanitizers?”

"Alcohol based ones are fine, avoid anti-bacterial ones. Anti-bacterial hand sanitizers help germs and viruses to develop immunity." Guy said surely, nodding his head. That 99.9% of germs was very important and needed to pay attention to. The last thing Guy wanted to make those....things stronger. No way were they going to be able to invade his body, it wasn't going to happen. No way.


“That sounds really interesting. You must get to wear a lot of neat clothing. Do you get to keep any of it?”

Guy shrugged a shoulder. It wasn't that interesting. Somebody put make up on him and then he just made faces at the camera. Sometimes he posed. It was actually a pretty easy job, all things considered. He almost never did runway shows (too many people) and the model agency he worked for always booked him smaller jobs. It was a pretty sweet set up, actually. He made good money for rather minimal work. "Sometimes. Some of the clients prefer to pay in merchandise than in money which is fine. It means I never have to go clothes shopping."

“Well, I’m a detective with the NYPD. I mostly deal with kids and gangs. Nothing terribly exciting, but if you ever end up at the station, have them page Detective Peter Aramis.”

Guy nodded, not sure what to say to that. It sounded like a good job, probably dangerous. Guy doubted that he would ever, ever end up at the police station. Guy liked following the laws. It was clean and neat to just put his head down and go along with what other people told him to do. It didn't matter though, Guy said he would.

“The waitress must have her hands full with that group.”

"Probably." Guy said with a small shrug. "They'll probably start to calm down in a bit once they get a little more drunk and eat more food." And the sooner they left, the sooner Guy could get back to his regular routine.

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

Peter listened to Guy talk, taking in the information about hand sanitizers. He was a little amazed. He wasn’t aware there was more than one kind of sanitizer, to be honest. He just used whatever bottle Gerry had on his desk. But the whole resistant germs thing was kind of creepy

“I didn’t know that the anti-bacterial ones would do that. They shouldn’t be on the market if they just make the germs worse.”

Seriously. It sounded ridiculous. He’d had half a mind to investigate whoever was making the other kind as terrorists...

He grinned when Guy said that he did get to keep some of the clothing. Never having to shop did have its advantages. Peter, who constantly forgot to do laundry, would have appreciated a whole closet full of ready wear clothing. He didn’t bother commenting, thinking that it was a bit odd to tell a stranger about his wardrobe. Instead, he held back, watching Guy as he commented about their company.

"They'll probably start to calm down in a bit once they get a little more drunk and eat more food."

“That seems to be how it goes,” Peter agreed. “Ah well, at least we’re not in the middle of the craziness.”

Peter grinned, feeling like he was rambling. He tended to do that when he wasn’t in his element. He twisted his fingers a bit, studying his companion who honestly didn’t look thrilled to be sitting there with him. Not that he blamed him.

“Sorry. If I’m being too chatty, I won’t mind if you tell me to shut up. Talking is kind of my default setting.”

He offered a sheepish smile, shrugging a bit. Yeah, the guy probably thought he was nuts.

[GUY "PSYCHE" ANANKE]

“I didn’t know that the anti-bacterial ones would do that. They shouldn’t be on the market if they just make the germs worse.”

"They've been certified and are marketable because someone has determined that the effect is negligible." Guy shrugged and wiped the rim of his drink carefully before taking a couple sips. He wasn't used to conversing over a meal; it was unexplored territory for him. His social development had stopped with the accident and he didn't know what to do most of the time.

Jerkily, Guy wiped the table down again, just to have something to do with his hands.

“That seems to be how it goes. Ah well, at least we’re not in the middle of the craziness.”

Guy didn't do anything besides nod twice, mechanically to it. Just the thought of that made Guy tense up, digging his nails into his palm harshly, foot tapping loudly under the table. He forced himself to breath; he couldn't let the thought of something push him over the edge, not now. Not when he couldn't escape.

“Sorry. If I’m being too chatty, I won’t mind if you tell me to shut up. Talking is kind of my default setting.”

Guy shook his head. "It's fine...I haven't...I mean it's not like....it's been...people don't..." Chewing on his lip briefly, Guy continued in a more put together fashion. "People don't talk to me often. It's..."

He swallowed and scratched at the table, finishing meekly, "Nice."

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

"They've been certified and are marketable because someone has determined that the effect is negligible."

Peter snorted at that answer. "Yeah, that explains gun laws, too."

Peter watched as Guy cleaned the table, only nodding at his attempts at conversation, and foot tapping. It wasn't until after his offer to shut up that Guy finally offered something that put the entire evening into perspective.

"It's fine...I haven't...I mean it's not like....it's been...people don't...People don't talk to me often. It's...Nice."

And if that wasn't the most endearing thing he'd ever heard. Add in the way he bit his lip and scratched at the table and Peter understood what was going on here. Boy did he feel like a heel for thinking he was being annoying to this guy. He probably felt out of place enough without thinking that Peter had issues.

"That's a shame, Guy - you're pretty interesting. They're missing out," Peter told him honestly. "I don't know if anyone else in the whole city would have invited me to sit down and made conversation with me about germs and such. I appreciate it."

He did. Usually, he ate alone on nights like these. Guy had saved him from another one of those nights. He was good looking and friendly, if quirky, and actually kept the conversation going. It really wasn't fair that no one spoke to him. No wonder their evening had been so awkward - Peter spoke too much, Guy not enough.

Now, if only the waitress would hurry up with the food before his stomach started to growl and make things even more awkward...

"I'm usually better company. I must be hungry." Peter grinned, shrugging a little. He hoped it was good for how long it was taking.

[GUY "PSYCHE" ANANKE]

"Yeah, that explains gun laws, too."

Guy didn't know what to say so he just shrugged one shoulder and nodded a bit. He wasn't that up to date on gun laws, he was ashamed to admit.

"That's a shame, Guy - you're pretty interesting. They're missing out. I don't know if anyone else in the whole city would have invited me to sit down and made conversation with me about germs and such. I appreciate it."

At this Guy shook his head three times, quickly. "I'm not interesting, not at all. No. Most people don't want to talk about germs because germs are disturbing and dangerous and horrible and they kill you and nobody likes to talk about things that can kill you even though everything can kill you at any time and nobody seems to know it and so they just focus on the obvious things like germs and murderers and wars but really, this building could collapse at any moment and kill us both and most people don't like to talk about that." Guy shook his head again and poked the table. "People don't like fearing for their lives so go along in blissful stupidity about it but I'm not stupid and I know how dangerous everything is and because I know people think I'm a freak and they don't like being around me because I tell the truth and that scares them but they won't admit it because the truth is scarier, it's even scarier than all the things that can kill us like car crashes and aneurysms and poison and bacterial infections and heart attacks and illness related to processed food and age."

"I'm usually better company. I must be hungry."

Guy waved a hand jerkily, like he brushing the comment off. "You're fine company. I probably leave something to be desired."

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

Peter really wasn’t sure what he had just said wrong. Guy quickly shook his head and denied he was interesting, diving into a full blown rant Peter honestly didn’t catch all of. He got the gist of it, though. Guy made people uncomfortable because he told the truth. The truth was a hard pill to swallow, but clearly he didn’t have the social programming to know that it was all taboo stuff. Heck, Peter thought it was all interesting. He honestly didn’t understand how anyone could make this man feel like a freak for being a little different, especially when he was concerned with the things that they weren’t strong enough to think on.

Peter had the strong urge to apologise, not for what he said, but on behalf of everyone who had ever made Guy feel like he couldn’t be himself because it made them uncomfortable. City freaking folk...

"You're fine company. I probably leave something to be desired."

“What? No, Guy, you’re great company,” Peter assured him, thinking it was true. “I like that you want to talk about this stuff. You’re right – it makes people uncomfortable because they are afraid of everything and it just brings all the things they would rather ignore to the surface.”

He reached for his water glass, taking a long sip before setting it down. There could have been some bacteria in the water that could kill him. He couldn’t tell by looking at it, and it wasn’t going to keep him from drinking it. Being aware was one thing, but being afraid was another. One helped you realise what went wrong, while the other terrorized you with the ‘what ifs’.

“I’m not from here and sometimes I get so sick of the way all these normal people are. They dictate everything and fitting in...it gets tiring,” he admitted, slumping back in his chair a bit. “That’s why I think you’re great. That’s why I think they’re missing out.”

He offered Guy a crooked grin, hoping he understood what Peter was making a mess out of trying to say. Guy was interesting in that he was unique in a world where everyone tried to be the same. The world really needed more color to it.

[GUY "PSYCHE" ANANKE]

Guy swallowed after his rant, flushing a little. He hated himself for doing that. Even when he was as close to normal as he could be, he did things like that. Rant like a lunatic and then cut off like that.

“What? No, Guy, you’re great company. I like that you want to talk about this stuff. You’re right – it makes people uncomfortable because they are afraid of everything and it just brings all the things they would rather ignore to the surface.”

"You've only known me for a little bit. Trust me, you'll change your mind." Guy let out a short, self-depreciating laugh. The few occasions Guy had come close to making friends always ended when the person he was trying to befriend spent enough time with him to learn that he was insane.

“I’m not from here and sometimes I get so sick of the way all these normal people are. They dictate everything and fitting in...it gets tiring. That’s why I think you’re great. That’s why I think they’re missing out.”

Guy nodded a bit and looked down, wondering if Peter even realized that he had just validated everything he had just been trying to dispel. 'Normal people' not like Guy. True, Peter lumped himself into the same the category. "You're really nice too, Peter. I'm...glad there's a wedding party." Because if it hadn't been happening, then they wouldn't have met.