Luck of the [Not So] Irish - Tags Josef/Josh

Josef was drop-dead, point blank exhausted. As a meta, and in particular as a meta whose “power” dealt with physical ability, he thought he had been acquainted with being tired. He’d had more than enough encounters that had ended up with him lying down on a couch, icepacks covering his entire body, or just plain unconscious for several days. But that had been physical weariness. This was a combination of the two.

First there had been the trial. Then there had been the moving out process. That had been uncomfortable. At Josef’s “request,” the lawyer who had assigned himself to him had figured out a schedule for him and his ex to move around. Josef was the one who had decided to leave. He’d never been a city kind of man anyways. So he’d packed up his few belongings—mostly clothes, with a few pictures and letters from some of the students he’d recruited, back when he’d done something actually meaningful—bought a plane ticket and scheduled a rental car, then had arrived at Pilot Ridge with a duffel bag carried over one shoulder and a computer bag that doubled as his “filing cabinet” on the other. Nothing else. Josef had always considered himself a light packer, but he’d admit that this was taking it to the extreme. But what was he going to do? Insist on half the furniture, drag it along in a truck, and move it into some kind of house? It would have just delayed the process. He’d just wanted out.

It hadn’t occurred to him until he’d finally made it into the town that it was Saint Patrick’s day. He’d confess that he hadn’t been paying much attention. But when he parked his car and slipped out, sliding his wallet into his back pocket and stretching to get rid of the stiffness traveling caused, he’d noticed an astounding amount of green. And when someone on the street shouted at him, “Why aren’t you wearing green, man?!” even his thick brain could guess what day it was.

And he wasn’t wearing green. Practical jeans, and a grey t-shirt, but no green. It was travelling garb, what could he say? Not really wanting to get pinched—or, more specifically, not wanting to hurt someone who startled him when they tried to pinch him—he opened up the back door of the car and rummaged through the bag.

Grey, grey, blue, brown, black, blue…Well, he supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised. He had never looked very good in green, so he’d avoided buying it. His brows drew together, and he stared down at the bag thoughtfully. What to do…ah, there. He fetched a green bracelet, one of the plastic ones made for some charity rganization or another that he’d been given by the gym he’d worked for, then slipped it onto his wrist. Good. He was safer now. And so was everyone else. Josef tired was still a Josef on-guard, and Josef on-guard tended to end up hurting people who alarmed him. You couldn’t help what you’d trained yourself to do, after all, and reactions to sudden movements were included in that.

He wanted a beer. That was what this holiday was all about ,wasn’t it? At least, in America. Maybe in Europe. But he hadn’t had a beer in a while, and because he would be returning the rental car very soon…well, why not? Just one wouldn’t hurt. He locked the car and slipped into the bar and, with a smile and a nod, slipped the waitress a bill to find him a table. It was busy, but with a well-placed grin and perhaps even a wink in the right direction, Josef hadn’t ever really had any trouble finding a table. Plus, the fact that he was alone and probably wouldn’t take long to finish what he wanted would help. While he was at it, he ordered dinner. Might as well. Besides, it was better not to drink on an empty stomach. Josef did want to make it to a hotel tonight, thank you.

As two older men entered the bar and looked about for a table, Josef glanced around at his own situation. Well, he wasn’t going to be staying here for very long. He’d ordered his food, and once he’d finished it, he’d leave them be to whatever their plans were. He set down the beer that he’d ordered, then rose to his feet and waved them over. He only hoped they wouldn’t take it as creepy. But then, they were all a little old for that sort of thing…and wasn’t that a fun thought.

"Not a bad idea," Josh mused, craning to find a member of the waitstaff to flag down. Beer was the reason they were here, after all, and he could drink it standing up just as well as sitting down....at first, anyway. He assumed that by the time they got drunk enough that standing was difficult at least one table would have opened up for them.

What he wasn't expecting was an offer to join anyone. Karma, he decided mentally, for the time he and Cobalt had asked that friendly young man to sit with them, the one who'd ended up dating Riley. He hadn't heard anything about Stephen lately; Riley had said he'd gone out of town for a recruitment but if he'd returned it hadn't been mentioned.

He meandered over to the table, Ben behind him. His younger companion spoke first, giving their names, so he merely smiled at the table's lone occupant. "Nice of you to allow us to sit with you. Are you here by yourself?" Maybe he was waiting for someone. Maybe he had friends in the bathroom. If that was the case, Josh hoped they didn't mind unexpected company.

He snagged the spiral-bound drink menu that was stuck between the condiments and the sugar bowl, flipping through it with interest. There were a large number of bizarre martinis and margaritas; those didn't interest him. He wasn't particularly inclined toward interesting drinks. Just give him a beer and he'd be happy. He suspected the same was true of most of the current patrons.

"Think we should get an appetizer, too?" He nudged Ben. He'd skipped lunch for once, the result of having no plans with friends to keep him on course.

Ben settled into the chair and looked over Josh's shoulder to read the menu. He moved away to find the drink menu on the table. As he perused the drink menu, he made sure he looked up every once in awhile to let his two dinner companions know he was listening.

He looked up with a big smile when the waitress came over looking a little tired. She returned the smile and went into her usual spiel. "Hi, I'm Karen. I'll be your server for the night. Our specials tonight is our Cesar's salad, our pepper steak with mint sauce and our St. Paddy's drink which I don't think I'm allowed to tell the secret ingredient of." She gave a cheeky grin as she posed with her pad.

"Yeah, I think appetizers would be good." He turned his head sideways to acknowledge he had heard Josh's query. "I'll have the deep fried mushrooms, hold the tartar sauce. And the steak and a bud would be great." Ben continued to smile at the waitress.

As Josh ordered his own meal, Ben turned to Josef and shook his head. "Take your time. Might as well stay for drinks. The game's gonna be on later. We're not expecting anyone else. Are we Josh?" he turned to his friend.

Josef’s lips curved into a slight smile as he watched the two men interact. It was nice to be among normal people again. Well, semi-normal. Josef had taken the approach long before that no one, especially no one in Pilot Ridge, was actually “normal.” It was an odd little town, but he’d always liked it that way. The smile spread to a grin, however, at Josh’s statement that having a beer was a good idea any day. “I agree. Not the best health option, I’ve been told—“ actually, half his time at college had just been spent having the idea that alcohol was bad for your health drilled into his head “—but life’s too short.”

“Thanks,” he said to Josh’s and Ben’s agreement that he could stay. “I appreciate the company.” And he did. It was nice to actually have a group to hang with on Saint Patrick’s day. He hadn’t done it in a long while. Too much time spent with William. Well, no use crying over spilled milk. He was here now: a fresh start in an old town. And if he could make a couple of friends in the process, then that was even better. “I didn’t even remember the game.” His smile turned a bit sheepish. “I’m a bit out of touch. Who’s playing, do you know?”

He turned his attention back to Josh at the question, then shrugged. “I was a personal trainer. Not too difficult a job: it just requires you looking buff. I’m looking to start a business in town, though. What about you two?” They probably had more professional jobs than he did. But then, Josef hadn’t thought much of his second career. There had to be something more worthwhile in the world than teaching people with money how to be fit.

"Everything is unhealthy these days." Josh scoffed. Healthy living required single-minded dedication and he much preferred that dedication to be spent on social justice, not living a month or two longer. "Everything in moderation and it probably won't kill you, isn't that how the saying goes?" Not that he drank beer in moderation, but it was an idea he could pay lip service to.

He shook his head at Josef's question about the game. "I'm afraid I don't know, either. I've given up trying to pay any attention to football." The last time he'd been willing to try had been during the Super Bowl, but as he'd not made it to watching the actual game he wasn't sure that counted. It certainly hadn't encouraged him to try again.

"A personal trainer?" He supposed that the other man did look more athletic than most of the people he spent time with. "Oh? What sort of business were you thinking?" He thought that Ben might be interested in this part of the conversation, as he not only owned his own practice but his parents owned a chain of restaurants. In fact, doing a quick mental rundown of friends who owned (or had previously owned) their own business was making him feel rather left out.

He waited until Ben had explained his glorified babysitting before answering Josef's question himself. "I'm an attorney. Civil rights. Pilot Ridge isn't the most....ahhh....lucrative place to live for my profession, but I suppose that's a good thing for everyone else."

He nodded at the dip, grabbing a few chips himself. "Mmm, try some. We're not mean enough to sit here and eat while you watch."

Ben couldn't have agreed more to Josh's assessment. Sure he could lose a few pounds off his weight but really, what's the use? He was old already. It wasn't like he was going to need any extra health any time soon. No one was expecting him to run a marathon. He was safe.

"The kids are otherwise alright. They just need a bit of attention sometimes, something parents don't always have." Ben shrugged.

He laughed a little at Josef's sense of humor. It was certainly better than his own; then again, Ben's sense of humor was a little corny. He certainly couldn't compete with any of his friend in that department. He'd just embarrass himself.

Ben simply nodded when Josef offered a turnabout with his food. He might end up being too stuffed with his own food so he might not even take any of Josef's.

"Ah, for me it's always been a passion, working to help people. I just narrowed down my choice to paediatric psychology because of something my professor told me. Found myself enjoying what I do, decided to continue with it." It wasn't an interesting start but it was a start. "What about you? Self-defense? Always had the passion?"