Two of a Kind [Reida, Alastair]

For once, Reida wasn't over at Alastair's place with a meal in hand. Maybe she should've brought one, sure, but she felt like there were more important things to discuss with this particular visit. She'd even gone out of her way not to bring a bottle of whiskey, leaving her with only the small flask in her jacket pocket.

Part of her wanted to just sort of barge in, she'd done that before after all. But, ironically, the way things were made it actively harder to convince herself that was okay. It was one thing when they were just friends, pretending there wasn't anything there. But it was all out in the open now.

Well, that was why she was here. So she knocked, waiting for whenever Alastair opened. For once, she didn't even have a clever little quip to make.

Their last meeting had been rather tumultuous for Alastair's mental state, but still, he was almost frustrated that he had not already met up with Reida and straightened things out. But he had needed time to stew, time to think about all the things that they had said and that had been said to him. Certainly, matters with Sophie had taken a turn in an unexpected direction, but the fact that it had been so unexpected had been comforting in a miserable type of way.

Hearing that familiar knock at the door, he could not deny that his heart raced just a little. A childish little burst of energy brought on by simply knowing she was there, and not a sensation he was unfamiliar with. Had he always felt like this when she knocked on his door? How long had it taken for that feeling to begin, and how long had he denied that it meant anything at all? Too long, probably.

Throwing the door open with his familiar intensity, there was a moment as he just stared at her. She didn't have a witty greeting, he didn't have a sharp response. Instead, he just spent a second taking her in, perhaps that already said enough.

"Hey, glad you could make it. Come in, make yourself at home "

A part of her was angry, that she was so glad to see him, but there wasn't any point in pretending anymore. Nor, for that matter, was there a point in stepping around how things had gotten at this point, or what they probably needed to talk about. Her expression lightened just the faintest touch as Alastair greeted her, and she stepped in with no hesitation.

"Well, if ya insist. I ain't one to deny any hospitality."

She wanted to do a lot of things, if she was being completely honest. But she wouldn't, she couldn't. If she actually did them, she'd probably have been sick to her stomach. Instead, she just walked in, leaning against the bar as she always tended to do, and studied him a bit more intently than she tended to, her eye sharp even now.

"...So...what now, Alastair?"

Right to the point. She wasn't one to hold off on things.

Of Reida's admirable qualities, and in Alastair's eyes there certainly were many, her directness was one he resonated with comfortably. He was not one to dance around an issue either, which had made their predicament all the more irksome but was now finally able to work in their favour. Standing on the other side of the bar to her, opposite but he was not staring her down as much as he was downcast with his thoughts.

"I spoke with Sophie. Laid things out. It turns out she was not exactly happy either, so we parted on more amicable terms than I deserved."

That was the crux of it really. What had been their clearest and most definitive obstacle had been removed without much of the pain that had been expected and deserved. He still felt guilty for that, he was going to have to live with that guilt for a little while more yet.

"So."

That word hung there in the open. Waiting to be picked up on for precious long moments as Alastair tried to muster what remained of his usual self.

"I know how I feel, and I do not want to pretend that there is nothing here. But how do you feel? Please."

Reida wanted to tell him it wasn't about what he did or didn't deserve, but there was a part of her that knew it wouldn't help much, not when things were so recent. Instead, she thought for a moment about his question, about the situation. Maybe she should've thought this through before she spoke, but there wasn't anything wrong with just speaking her mind, was there?

"I think there's a lot of me that thinks I oughta not be here. That I don't deserve this, that I'm a worse person for... I don't know. For bein' attracted to someone again."

It was painful, in a way, to say as much. After all, she'd come to the Vandenreich for the sake of vengeance. The loss she'd experienced still felt fresh, still ate at her. But Reida also knew that it had been years, by now, that it wasn't so simple as all that. And, much as she hated to think it, there was a part of her that knew all too well her family would have hated to see her so bitter and angry.

But one thing at a time.

"I'm hardly some lovestruck little girl thinkin' of a happy ever after, but I'd be lyin' if I said I didn't feel some kinda way about you."

It would have been easy to vault the counter and sweep her up in his arms, to profess some childish notion of love and make all of their issues fade away. But that was not the reality that even Alastair wanted to come to pass, as idyllic as it might sound. He had always wanted her to make some peace with her past, to deal with those problems in a healthy manner. This was not exactly what he had in mind when this process had begun but, of course, he had hoped she would eventually move on to find joy with someone else. Neither of them had expected that person might be him.

"I understand that. Honestly, I do. But I always said that you still deserved every happiness in this world after all that happened. We are attracted to each other, so we can move forwards together. Just like we were doing before."

He could tell that she was hurting, it hurt him too both to see her like that and to know that even what she was displaying was only a fraction of what she was feeling beneath the surface. But seeing her suffer only hardened his resolve this time, taking some small solace in the belief he had in his own heart.

"I am under no illusions that this has to be a new forever for either of us too. But I think we would be doing ourselves even more of a disservice not to see where this goes."

If he'd said anything else, if he'd pretended this was all romantic and perfect, Reida might still have had it in her to walk away from all this. But he'd said what she knew was right. That acting like this was anything more, or anything less, would be a disservice to both of them. And, besides, it would just be dishonest.

"Yeah. That does sound like it'd be a mighty disservice, don't it?"

She sighed, not out of irritation or disappointment, but out of acceptance more than anything. It'd be awful of her to say all this and then not take a step forward. Nobody'd be happy. Not him, not her. It was difficult to admit, certainly, but she did her best to put on a smile for him. It wasn't that it was dishonest, by any means. She rather genuinely wanted to be cheerful. But she wasn't a woman that often felt much cheer.

"Let's do it, then. Can't say I've been in the datin' game for a long time, so go easy on me."

If Reida was going to commit to this, then she wasn't going to sit around being bitter about it. It wouldn't help either of them, would it? And Alastair deserved far better than just some dour bitch.

"The kind only a pair of idiots might pass on."

His body moved before he had even finished that response, but it was hardly the frenzied rush he had envisaged. Instead, Alastair slowly moved around the length of the bar until he was facing her and there was were no obstacles between them. A methodical advance until they were close enough to reach out to each other, but he did not do so yet. His eyes burned quietly with a passion that had once been suppressed as they traced an image around the length of Reida's form, eventually settling upon her face.

That his heart skipped a beat as she said 'Lets do it' certainly spoke of where a particularly crude part of his head was at. But he was able to hold himself together by digging deep into that willpower he prided himself on. That was a whole thing that he did not need to be thinking about right now, but his mind had certainly wandered there because he was a woefully simple thing at times. Focus.

"We go at whatever pace you are comfortable with. If something is too much, or if you just want to stop and talk about stuff, then I will always be here to listen and understand. I care about you, Reida. I care about you a lot. So we do this properly. No half measures."

"Y'er a real sweetheart."

There was a lot more Reida would have wished to say, perhaps, if she knew how to say it. But to call herself rusty would have been an understatement that was nothing short of colossal, and she wasn't exactly one to lie about herself in a way like that. But, then again, it didn't really matter, did it? She didn't think he'd care, and it wasn't just because of some sort of pity or anything.

Reaching out to take his hand in hers, Reida looked into his eyes with a faint warmth rarely present in her gaze. She was, certainly, not some new woman simply because of this. Even behind that little spark, there was a glacier of cold that would certainly not thaw through such simple, earnest means. But it was something, at least, and she wanted it to grow into more.

"I'm not the kinda girl to give anything other'n my best. And I know you're the same way. How 'bout we...well, maybe we can just spend a little time on the couch. Talk. That's not so different from what we're used to, right?"

Alastair was most certainly not a man that needed to hear the most extravagant of confessions, quite the opposite in fact. He was, and would likely forever remain, a simple man. If she called him sweet then that was enough. When she grabbed his hand and took it in her own then that was enough to draw a smile from those lips that did so little smiling around anyone else.

"And you deserve nothing but the best in turn. So I would like that, to sit and talk like we have always done and just continue being ourselves. Something has changed, yeah, but it is a good change."

Pulling her forwards gently, it might have seemed like he was about to pull her into an embrace but the movement was not forced enough for that. Instead, he turned and began to lead her over to the couch. His gaze certainly did not leave hers, looking back over his shoulder as he led the way. This was still something so utterly surreal that he might have wanted to pinch himself to make sure that it was real, but he did not want to risk the chance that it was and that this might all fade to nothing. It was not a long journey, though, and he deposited her in as graceful of a manner as could be done.

"Firstly, what a terrible host I have been. Do you want a drink? I can have the kettle boiled in just a moment."

That was certainly a key establishing question, even if Alastair phrased it so innocently. Of course he framed it with mention of the kettle, and that was undoubtedly where he was at, but this could well be their most emotional conversation yet. He had stocked up on the liquor she preferred just in case, not that he was in a rush to reveal that fact.