DUSK AND DAWN

NIX: for science when it's you!

NIX: it's for science and i need it so please.

the paps. it’s easy to forget when he’s around piper that she’s wildly famous. at least wildly famous to him, the average joe from out of town who has all the star power of a box of graham crackers. times like these, he’s reminded in an intense and undeniable fashion that he doesn’t understand her life at all. at least not to the extent he might be fooled into occasionally believing he does. lingering near the sofa where she’s collapsed, nixon somewhat awkwardly fidgets with the bottom of his shirt, not wanting to walk away when she’s speaking to him, but already thinking of nine different ways he can probably make this easier for her. not the least of which is grabbing one of the various small waste baskets he has sprinkled about, for her to potentially sick in if it comes to that. she does seem quite inebriated, so it only makes sense to be prepared. he doesn’t move, though -- not yet. “i don’t know what that’s like.” he also doesn’t speak french. “don’t think that i ever want to either. sorry. you know, that you have to deal with it.” it’s not his fault, he’s aware, but that doesn’t mean he can’t feel bad when she shows up at his place in such a state, obviously upset about it. life is all about art and passion and experiencing for him; the elements of it all come together in a lopsided fashion, tipping off balance, and most of the time clashing. it takes a certain eye to recognize beauty the way nix does, and he can’t really see it in what’s happening to her. at least not right now. “i’m going to get you some water.”

the soft brush of their shoulders isn’t an lot, and it’s not even the most contact they’ve had tonight, but it’s still something. something that benji is initiating, nonetheless. lingering near the corners of nix’s mouth is a real smile, and he glances over at his companion again as they walk, knowing they’ll reach their destination quite soon. it won’t be the end of their night, though, thankfully -- he very much intends to drag it out as much as he possibly can. he doesn’t get a lot of time to just relax and spend time with someone he likes, that’s for sure, and he wants to take full advantage of it when he does. another drag of his cigarette is taken before he opts to reply, and his amusement can be heard quite clear in his voice, “maybe the point of the plot is that you’re not supposed to understand it. it’s surrealism. an acquired taste, i know -- i kind of have a close relationship with the whole movement.” nixon is an acquired taste as well, after all. benji should know all about that. ash floats down off the end of his cigarette as he taps it lightly, and then his free hand, the one closest to the other and hanging in between them, reaches to gently tug on his sleeve. “here. best coffee in the city, i promise.” he tells him, gesturing to the cafe just a little ways in front of them. it’s lit warmly with a soft glow.

“Nobody’s just anything.” Far be it for him to agree with just about anything Sloan says, even if what he happens to be saying is self-deprecating. Being contrary is apparently a new favorite pastime for Nixon. “Like, no offense, but condensing yourself into one little box of Grade A Asshole is probably not the best for your self-esteem. There are books out there that can help with that. I’m not saying you don’t have asshole-like qualities or robbing you of your prerogative to self-identify, it’s just, like... People are many-faceted creatures. Usually. You’re annoying, but you don’t strike me as entirely vapid.”

It’s late enough that Nix had considered not even answering the door when he’d heard someone pounding on it. If it hadn’t seemed such an urgent affair, he’d of more than likely done just that. Now he finds himself stood just beside the frame, watching Piper slump closer and closer to the floor with every passing second (and slurred word, for that matter). His lips press into a grim line, the wear from the day showing in the fatigue on his face, and he trusts himself to be able to lift her if she ends up collapsing entirely, but he doesn’t particularly want to have to do it. So, he steps forward and helps her in advance instead, one of his arms going around her waist to steady her and lead her in at the same time. He’s not actually all that certain of what she’s on about, but he does know that she is definitely drunk. That’s enough to earn her sanctuary until she sobers up a bit, at the very least. He ignores the deep-seated twinge of worry that he feels somewhere inside of him at the thought of her wandering the streets alone in this state. It’s probably not his place, but she’s his friend, and he can’t help it. “You’re drunk.” He tells her a bit distractedly, voice coming off quite matter-of-fact and offering no room for argument. He pushes the door to his apartment shut with his free hand, making sure to lock the deadbolt before he attempts to get her to somewhere soft and squishy, where she can safely pass all the way out, if that’s to be the case. “Who are you talking about?”

NIX: your list is severely underdeveloped if there's only ten million there

nix: yeah? chill sesh? i work weekends you know. can't make any promises on my reliability with watching

nix: i should watch a lot of things honestly. it's getting the time to do so, y'know?

nix: you know, it's weird. i don't want to make anyone into anything. i've never seen scandal

nix: is that a rhetorical question

nix: i have $.49

sometimes, nix can’t tell the difference between when he’s pretending and when he’s not. right now, there’s a thin line in between his particular brand of dry humor, over-exaggeration, and how he actually feels; he’s got lots of practice skirting it. benji and him walk out of the library side by side, the small showing of a film he could tell his partner wasn’t interested in past laughing at just having ended, and neither of them speak until he breaks the silence after they round the corner to the next street. they’ll get coffee -- or whatever hot drink happens to be benji’s choice -- at the little cafe on the far end. he lit up a cigarette the moment they were outside, and smoke trails from his mouth when he replies, head tilted away from the person at his side, “it’s more cohesive to have the subtitles all the way through.” he replies mildly, and only the upturned corner to the left side of his mouth gives it away as bullshit. he’s amused, and the whole reason he’d even opted to drag him to this tonight was because of that. “like, imagine if they’d just randomly dropped off. wouldn’t make much sense to have floating letters one second, and then none the next. the actors would’ve gotten confused.” now it’s more evident he’s pulling his leg.

NIX: well, it is what it is. don't take it negatively though.

NIX: yeah, actually. it kind of is.