Joshing Around [...Mr. Bernstein]

[Ferris Macklin]

Ferris's days off were busy, and he liked it that way. On Tuesdays he cooked his dinners for the week, the stuff he could heat up for a quick meal after he got home from Hammel, and baked the weekly bread. He also looked through his recipe lists for stress cooking ideas, things he could bake to leave in the staff lounge and the more complex treats he brought for his minions. Now that summer was here, he also canned on Tuesdays, pickles and preserves and the putting up of jars of vegetables for the winter. He did some experimenting as well, making his own smoked salmon and gravlax, and doing up a few batches of paneer. On Wednesdays, he went to the comic book shop, dusted and vacuumed, did his wash, and ran errands.

But on both days, if the weather wasn't rainy, he took his bike out with a picnic lunch and enjoyed the trails. Sometimes it was around 11 a.m., sometimes it wasn't till the evening. But either way he packed food, and all packed food to Ferris was a picnic lunch. And he always packed extra, in case he ran late or into someone he wanted to share with.

Unlike some bikers, Ferris wore comfortable baggy cargo shorts to bike, and whatever t-shirt he'd picked out that morning. The only concession to biking he gave was to use a safety pin to anchor his shoelaces to his Converse (and of course he wore a helmet). His trailer was back at home, but on the rack of his bike was a rectangular insulated bag that held its own toolcase and first aid kid, and had ample room left for food and drink.

The view of the lake had been one he couldn't resist. It was a clear day, weather perfect, with just the tiniest of breezes, enough to keep most of the bugs away but not enough to blow his food all over creation. Ferris had wheeled his bike off the trail and was sitting on one of the benches so thoughtfully provided by the state of Vermont. His helmet sat on the bike seat and his cooler sat beside him on the bench.

Ferris liked to pack a variety of sandwiches in his picnic lunches, because he didn't know what he'd feel like later, so he had three different sandwiches cut in halves, a container of sugar snap peas pickled with salt, sugar, vinegar, and slices of garlic, and a container of brownies. The brownies were somewhat experimental. Instead of using a single recipe for marbled cheesecake brownies, Ferris had used two recipes, one for the brownie base and one for the cheesecake part, without knowing if they'd go well together. They did. The thinner bottom brownie layer was slightly more fudge-y than cake-y, and the thicker chocolate-swirled cheesecake layer had that small hint of tart-sour that good cheesecakes had. Ferris deemed them a success. They were quite rich, though, so he made a note to cut them into smaller squares if he brought them to the staff room later.

As he looked at the lake, he settled into a pattern of eating. First a bite of roast beef sandwich, then a snap pea, and then a bite of brownie. Repeat. Ferris thought the pickles complimented both the sandwich and the brownies.

[Joshua Bernstein]

One of the aspects of small town life that Josh preferred to the City was the ability to bicycle for fun without having to dodge cars. Occasionally leaving the neighborhood could be harrowing, and the Vermont weather combined with a lack of sidewalks could be inconvenient, but over all he considered Pilot Ridge bicycle friendly.

Typically he rode his bike solely for transport; to work, to the store, to the bar. But sometimes he rode because the weather was nice and a ride would be pleasant.

Today was one such day.

Sometimes on his lunch break he met with friends. Sometimes he met with Sean. On days he had court he often ate at the courthouse cafeteria.

And today he'd decided to bring his lunch with him to the lake.

This wasn't entirely out of pure desire; recent health concerns saw him looking for new ways to squeeze exercises into his daily routine, and adding in extra cycling seemed like an easy way to stay fit.

He was still a bit sore from his newfound running routine with Kara, however, and so he hasn't gone very far before he decided to pull off to the side. This would be a nice spot for a picnic, anyhow, he thought.

Evidently he wasn't the only one; he spotted another cyclist relaxing on one of the benches that dotted the trail around the lake, enjoying the weather and food.

The attorney wheeled his own bicycle on over, not the least bit worried that the other man might prefer solitude. Nobody preferred solitude, except perhaps Cobalt, and even then he was pretty sure that was just a mask. After all, look at who he was dating!

"Nice day for a picnic," he commented, pulling out his own much less impressive lunch. Cheese and crackers and apple slices weren't quite the height of his lunch making abilities, but they were close, and they were all he had bothered with this morning.

[Ferris Macklin]

If asked, Ferris did not prefer solitude, but he was a man who needed his Me Time to decompress and think. And while he liked doing things in a group, like being a line chef or working the kitchen at Hammel, he was still very much in charge of his own task and left to his own devices to do it without any outside influences, and he liked that too. Ferris was actually a lot more solitary than he thought, but there was a defensiveness to it. It served to protect all those things he was so (normally) so skillful at repressing.

But that didn't mean he didn't welcome company. Ferris gave the man a friendly smile. "The weather here is uncommonly nice for outdoorsy things," he agreed. "And the lake is just the right size to bike around." Ferris gazed out onto the lake. "Almost makes me wish I had a boat. Almost." He frowned, thinking. "Does Vermont require a license to drive a boat? I think you need one to own one."

Glancing over at the other man's picnic, Ferris debated whether or not to offer and decided he might as well. After all, the other guy could still say no. The Lunchables looking thing the guy was eating might mean he was watching what he ate, or it might mean he was just bad at packing picnics. "I pack extra sandwiches," he ventured, "and you're welcome to a few if you want."

[Joshua Bernstein]

"You need a card if you're under forty," Josh replied. Vermont didn't call it a license, as it didn't expire, but that was a distinction most laypeople probably wouldn't appreciate. It required taking course and passing tests, which was what he assumed the question meant. "I would venture a guess that this applies to you."

He wasn't always very good at estimating other people's ages, but the other man looked younger than him. That usually only happened if someone actually was younger than he was.

"You enjoy sailing? My partner owns a boat. I'm sure he would be glad to help you with the boat buying process."

The offer of sandwiches caused his face to light up. That certainly sounded more appetizing than the snacks he had packed. "That's very generous..what sort of sandwiches are they, if I may ask? I don't want to be ungrateful, but I'm supposed to be watching salt intake." He explained, sitting on the edge of the bench. There was no reason to stand and eat, even if it was probably a little healthier.

"Oh! I almost forgot to introduce myself. How rude of me. I'm Joshua Bernstein."

He balanced his lunch on his lap and held out a hand in greeting.

[Ferris Macklin]

"You need a card if you're under forty. I would venture a guess that this applies to you."

A card indicated there was probably a test of some sort, which meant studying rules or laws. Ferris briefly wondered why people over forty were exempt, but he let it pass because he didn't much care. But! To answer the question - "Yep. Still not forty."

He'd be 33 later this year. Glancing at the other man, Ferris guessed from the words that he was at least forty. He looked maybe forty-five-ish, but it was hard to tell. Ferris also wasn't offended that he might not look under forty. He didn't care about his age; he certainly acted much younger than he looked most of the time.

"You enjoy sailing? My partner owns a boat. I'm sure he would be glad to help you with the boat buying process."

There were things Ferris took from that that he didn't comment on but felt mildly wistful about down in the place where feels could not help but tingle. But he smiled and laughed a little. "Thanks, but I'm not in the market for a boat. I still have yet to get a car. But the times I've been on one I've liked it." He nodded out toward the water. "Can't help thinking of being out there on a day like this."

Of course, most of the times Ferris had been on board a sailing vessel had been as kitchen help. He'd been recommended by a fellow chef to a caterer friend as resourceful, quick, and able to work in minimal environments with a high level of skill, and as such had assisted with two weddings, a retirement, and four anniversaries. Now that he thought of it, Marie probably still had his number. Whoops. But he'd still enjoyed being on the water, kitchen staff (but not wait staff, god no, he didn't have the patience) or not.

"Does your partner fish?" Ferris didn't know if the lake had anything in it worth catching or not, but he did sometimes see lines into the water.

"That's very generous... what sort of sandwiches are they, if I may ask? I don't want to be ungrateful, but I'm supposed to be watching salt intake. Oh! I almost forgot to introduce myself. How rude of me. I'm Joshua Bernstein."

Ferris had to grin back when the man visibly brightened at the offer. Either his own food was that bad or he was a fellow sandwich aficionado.

Taking the proffered hand, he shook with a firm but friendly grip. "Ferris Macklin. Nice t' meet you."

He pulled back the rectangular top of his bag to give Josh a view inside. There were five sandwich halves in plastic ziplocs and the open containers of snap pea pickles and brownies. Ferris pointed at the smallest rectangle first. "That one is roast beef, those-" longer, fatter rectangles "-are roast chicken, and those-" he smiled a little sheepishly because they were a little odd "-are shrimp, mayo, and hard boiled egg on rye." He shrugged, a little apologetically. "Sometimes I get an urge for smørbrød."

Tongue poking out as he considered the rest of what Josh had said, he finally added, "They have less salt than storebought bread and deli meat. I... can't say they're no salt, but I try not to overseason. The beef and chicken sandwiches have a little butter and mayo or mustard to keep things moist, but when I take food out I like to keep it simple. Oh." Ferris was around fellow staff or people who knew he cooked often enough that he usually didn't have to explain, but Josh wouldn't. "It's all homemade, down to the bread and mayo. Not the butter, and I didn't raise the animals or anything, but I did cook them. The beef came off a roast I made earlier this week and the chicken was from last night." An eyebrow raised, "Does that help at all? If you taste one and it's not to your liking, you could take it home with you for someone else."

Pointing to the containers, he said, "You're welcome to the pickles and brownies too, but the pickles are probably not low sodium."

Finished with the explanation, Ferris sat back to see if Josh would take anything. "Have you lived here long? I've only been here... a little over a month."

[Joshua Bernstein]

"Sean isn't typically a fisher, no." Josh replied. The other man had done so, on rare occasion, but he didn't seek it out. "But he does love to sail. He infected me with that bug, without him I doubt I would have even considered it."

He placed his lunch to one side, continuing, "I don't have a car, either. Pilot Ridge doesn't have quite the public transportation of the City, though, so it can be difficult."

However, he had survived and he knew he wasn't the only one. One couldn't step on the curb and hail a cab, but they could be called by phone to come pick up passengers if his bicycle couldn't be used.

He gingerly reached for one of the chicken sandwiches, listening with interest to the descriptions. "That's impressive. Are you a chef?"

The answer could very well be no; after all, Anya has been a trainer and Riley owned a landscaping company. Maybe Ferris just enjoyed working in the kitchen.

"Three years," he replied. "Before that I lived in New York City for...ahhh...my whole life. My partner's lived here a few decades, though. He works at the school up on the hill. Where did you move from?"

For such a small town Pilot Ridge had people from all sorts of exotic locales, a product of the Institute, no doubt.

[Ferris Macklin]

"Sean isn't typically a fisher, no. But he does love to sail. He infected me with that bug, without him I doubt I would have even considered it."

"Sail? On there?" Ferris nodded toward the lake. It didn't seem big enough for a sailboat, but Ferris was pretty deficient in his boat knowledge.

"I don't have a car, either. Pilot Ridge doesn't have quite the public transportation of the City, though, so it can be difficult."

That was surprising to hear. Ferris still had enough Euro in him to be okay not owning a car, but he thought most Americans who could afford one had one. "I'm in the process of getting a license," he admitted. "If the winters here are as epic as suggested so far, I want the option."

Joshua chose one of the chicken sandwiches and Ferris nodded in approval. They were just meat and bread, but really good meat and bread.

"Um. Not really. A lot of people would consider me one, but I don't think I have enough natural talent to be a chef. Tony Bourdain says that a real chef one who can lead, but I personally think a true chef is one who can create. I can mess around with what's there already, but I guess I have no drive to forge new paths. I'm fine with being kitchen staff."

"...My partner's lived here a few decades, though. He works at the school up on the hill. Where did you move from?"

Those hints, combined with the name 'Sean', took Ferris momentarily aback. Really? He was sitting here with... "You're Dr. Neville's partner?"

And just so Josh wouldn't think he was being rude, he added quickly, "I work at Hammel too. In their kitchens." He shook his head. "Small world."

Ferris had nothing but respect for anyone working the psych post at a meta school and had heard nothing but good things about Sean Neville as a person. It was his professional guise that Ferris did not want to cross paths with. He'd spent a lot of time perfecting his repression techniques, and was not at a point in his career that he could take time off to... uch... feel. The fact the man was a psychiatrist even trumped the telepathy, because there was obviously a lid on it in some form or another or he'd have been pulled in on his first day.

To answer the rest of the question, he said, "I was born and raised here in America, but I'd just spent the last ten years knocking around Europe, and the last two at Kocher. The Hammel in Switzerland. A post opened up here... and I took it." Ferris shrugged, smiling. "Sometimes the greenness of here reminds me a little of Switzerland, but Europe has that sense of age that America doesn't. Like looking at the Coliseum as opposed to looking at Monticello. Nothing wrong with it, but it does... affect the atmosphere."

[Joshua Bernstein]

"The winters can get a bit rough," Josh confessed. He had made himself sick attempting to cycle in the snow before, but now that he lived with Sean he could request transport without troubling the other man over much.

He took a bite of his sandwich, savoring the freshness. While sandwiches were within his abilities, he appreciated the designer stylings of the ones Ferris was sharing. This was almost as good as grilled pimento cheese.


Almost.

He narrowed his eyes at the explanation regarding chefs, not entirely sure he understood the distinction. He had been inquiring into the other man's line of work, not his artistic originality. But the mention of kitchen staff was answer enough; he was definitely a chef. A modest chef, but a chef nonetheless.

And apparently a chef who knew Sean.

"Dr. Neville?" He repeated with a laugh. "I remember when Dr. Neville was Sean's father. But yes."

And even with the years between their romances he was still pleased to be able to answer yes to that question.

"Where in Europe? Other than Switzerland? Sean and I went with a friend on a Europe trip last summer. It was very nice."

[Ferris Macklin]

Since he did not have a partner with a car, Ferris was glad he'd made the decision to get his license. Though, even if he did, he probably would've gotten one anyway, for safety. If only one person could drive and that person got hurt... who would drive them? There were taxis, yes, but Ferris thought just doing it himself would be more convenient all around.

Ferris would have said that answering the question of his profession was the same as answering the question of whether or not he was a chef, and that he could easily be called one but did not consider himself one. He'd never gone to culinary school, for one thing, and he'd never headed up the staff of a restaurant, two more things Ferris thought were chef-makers.

Eating more of his own sandwich, Ferris sat back to enjoy the view and the conversation, which was becoming eye-opening in ways he never could have anticipated.

"Dr. Neville? I remember when Dr. Neville was Sean's father. But yes."

So far he'd learned that Sean Neville 1) owned a boat, 2) was in a relationship with Joshua Bernstein, 3) and thus was at least gay if not bi, 4) was not much for fishing, 5) had lived in Pilot Ridge for at least twenty years, 6) had a father who had been a doctor, and 7) it could be inferred that Mr. Bernstein had known Sean before he'd been a doctor, which meant it was possible they'd been friends for as long as Ferris had been alive. Or even longer. Mentally, Ferris adjusted Josh's age into the 50s. He looked good. No greys. Still able to bike.

"Where in Europe? Other than Switzerland? Sean and I went with a friend on a Europe trip last summer. It was very nice."

8) had been to Europe.

"All over. The UK, Portugal to Austria, up into Scandinavia, and down to Greece via Italy. I skipped a lot of the Eastern European area because some of it is a little dicey for tourists, but I did spend a week in Poland and it was gorgeous." He shrugged, smiling. "I admit I'm a little biased towards Spain, France, and Italy for cooking reasons, but I enjoyed every country I saw."

Finishing up his sandwich, he considered, and then pulled out one of his bastardized smørbrød. "So what do you do, here in town?"

[Joshua Bernstein]

As Ferris discussed his travels Josh continued munching his sandwich, making noises of appreciation.

"This is really delicious. I will never understand how it is possible for one person to make sandwiches superior to anything I try" he commented wistfully. It was really unfair; sandwiches weren't supposed to be difficult. He didn't think that his own were bad, they simply aren't anywhere near this good.

"I wanted to go to Greece, but it wasn't a good climate." There had been riots all over Europe, preventing the, from several places they wanted to go, but Greece had been especially bad. "I was a but concerned about some of the anti-Semitism but we never encountered anything too bad"


Certain European countries had begun earning a reputation and not just due to their past.

The question about his own job was a much more pleasant topic, and he took it up with gusto. "I'm an attorney. Civil rights speciality, but Pilot ridge is so sleepy that we take on other cases too. If you see a sign downtown, Adams and Bernstein, that's us. Blue and Gold is our rival firm. One da we will convince Mr. weaver to merge with us. He really should, since his partner quit to get into politics. Leila Gold. She's a class act. I know Cobalt misses having her around."

[Ferris Macklin]

"This is really delicious. I will never understand how it is possible for one person to make sandwiches superior to anything I try."

"Thank you. But I also spent the last seven years in a kitchen," he said. "If I couldn't turn out something better than someone who hadn't, it would mean I was a pretty sad case."

It was kind of a lie, he'd spent six months in there making cheese in a cave in France, but he'd still been cooking. "And homemade always tastes better. If the cook knows what they're doing."

From Mr. Bernstein's words, he was possibly Jewish (or that friend was). Ferris nodded. "I went to Greece early on, around 2003, before all of that got started up, but I didn't stay there long because it was so relatively cut off from the rest of Europe. I never got a chance to go back, but I did see the Parthenon. It's been in an almost constant state of restoration since... the 80s, I think, so there were cranes and scaffolding everywhere. It... kind of took away from some of the... majesty of it."

Talking about his job perked Josh right up, and Ferris smiled... and then laughed a little. "Cobalt and gold." He closed his eyes for a moment and then came up with it. Who said a periodic table shower curtain never came in handy? "Co and Au." He shrugged apologetically to Josh. "Science geek. They could've been the Elemental Law Firm. But Blue and Gold is much catchier."

Adams and Bernstein. He'd have to look for it next time he was in town, as well as the Blue and Gold. Ferris had his doubts about Pilot Ridge supporting one law firm, much less two, but it had to be lucrative or Josh would've moved elsewhere to set up. Ferris also wondered if Josh had gone to Hammel, though most alumni, when mentioning the school, also typically admitted they'd gone. But he wasn't going to ask, it seemed... gauche. So Ferris ate his sandwich.

Now that they'd had some conversation, something about Mr. Bernstein seemed... familiar. He didn't know quite what it was. He glanced at the dark-haired, bespectacled man again, and suddenly the memory of wooden stairs and paella hit him. Ferris chuckled, and then explained, "You reminded me of someone I met a few days ago. He looks sort of like you. Friendly, talkative, builds models. I left my tool kit at home and he lent me a pliers."

[Joshua Bernstein]

"Then you're already smarter than I can ever hope to be," Josh' responded with a rueful shake of his head to the science joke and subsequent apology. "Science was always my weakest subject. "

Then the conversation turned to someone who looked like him. Someone who built models.

"You met Danny Silverman!" He exclaimed in delight. "He's engaged to my law partner's older brother! And they're both good friends."

Danny remained the only person to sleep with Sean who was also on good terms with Josh; it was impossible to stay upset at the younger man. "Isn't he wonderful?"

He didn't remark on the observation regarding their similar appearance, as that resurfaced memories of two summers ago. He wasn't exactly proud of how he had behaved, or of the photos he and Danny had sent to Sean...and to Janice.

May those never make any appearance in his life again.

"Funnily enough, Danny and Mr. Weaver grew up together. It's interesting how life can lead you back to old friends and acquaintances."

[Ferris Macklin]

"It's not like I ever get a chance to use it," he said, smiling. Ferris had enjoyed school and had not really had a bad subject, though if one had caused him more trouble than the others? "Biology was mine. Parts of cells, what they did, proteins and sugars and... gah."

Of course he'd aced it, but he still remembered entire nights dedicated to deciphering and learning the terminology for a single concept. Like mitochondria. He still hated them.

Ferris burst out laughing when Josh knew Danny. "Yes, he was very nice! I met Riley Adams too. They're... pretty amazing." Lips quirking, he asked, "Is the clay smell as endemic as it seems?"

It was hard to describe, especially when anything he might say could be taken as derogatory. Danny had been like meeting a friendly puppy, Riley had been like an equally friendly sleepy bear. Together they were a sappy movie, a Charlie Brown cartoon, a Hallmark card, but in a way that made Ferris think 'aw' rather than 'ew'. They'd been so obviously in love and so happy that it restored a great deal of faith in humanity that Ferris sometimes lacked.

"Funnily enough, Danny and Mr. Weaver grew up together. It's interesting how life can lead you back to old friends and acquaintances."

Ferris shook his head again and ate more of his sandwich. "Is everyone so interconnected here? It feels like the six degree game would only need three. Or one." He chuckled. "And now I've met you, I work at the same school as your partner, I've used Danny Silverman's pliers, and he and Riley have a bag of my danishes somewhere."

Remembering, he said, "Is Mr. Weaver from California? Danny mentioned San Francisco."

And then he nodded to his bag. "You're welcome to more sandwich, and the brownies." Ferris grinned, a little apologetically. "They're low sodium. But not much else."

[Joshua Bernstein]

Josh shook his head at the question about San Francisco. "I think New Jersey? Before coming to Hammel. Perhaps grew up with wasn't the correct way to phrase that," he apologized as he polished off his sandwich. "They were childhood friends. It was quite a surprise for Cobalt when Danny showed up, but that does seem to be the way of things around here. Everyone is, as you said, interrelated, even when they didn't grow up here."

But despite the international population they were still a small town. Interrelated was to be expected.

At the offer of another sandwich he glanced at his wrist and then shook his head. "I should head back to the office now, but it was wonderful to meet you and steal your food. Thank you for the sandwich and feel free to drop by the office any time. If I'm not there Janice or Damien or Niko will be, and they can call me and let me know, as long as I'm not in court."

[Ferris Macklin]

Wow. New Jersey to San Fran. Ferris wondered at the wisdom of that, but Danny seemed to be a friendly, happy guy.

Then Josh had to leave, and Ferris nodded, smiling. "It was good to meet you too! You're welcome. It's nice to have company on a day like this."

And, well, now he knew where to go if he had legal troubles. Ferris stayed on the bench as Josh left, waving. It was fascinating and strange, the things one could learn in a single conversation.

[END]