lazy sunday {Stefan}

[Randel Anthony]

Randel wasn’t much of a drinker or a club-goer, but he was known to frequent the so-called club district mostly for the café. He sat now in one of the booths, occasionally holding his pen to his bottom lip, or twirling it between his fingers. A nice hot cup of coffee sat beside him.

Randel was something of a quiet man, and he’d the potential to be callous because of it – though not intentionally. His was a reckless introversion. Most of his relationships had failed because they felt he did not pay attention to them, or did not care, which left him only with a faint sense of befuddlement, because he was not only oblivious but also stubborn and he had not learned anything. For this was he glad to have moved to Pilot Ridge. Randel wasn’t a hermit by any means, but he had to admit that he felt some relief that there were no social calls on his weekends off work (and he didn’t have to give any excuses). It was just him and his little terrier – the perfect break.
And occasionally the hour-long coffee break from his days-off-breaks. Sometimes he thought he was getting a little too self-indulgent.

Most of the time, these trips were innocuous. He’d bring along a book to read or, if he was feeling fancy, his e-reader. Other times he’d have work on his mind. There would be lists, circled maps, profiles: white, male, 20s-30s, work allows free time, lives alone, and so on and so forth.

So it went that late afternoon weekend; Randel didn’t notice as a stranger approached his table.

[Stefan Spencer]

Look up drinker or club-goer in the dictionary and you were bound to see a picture of Stefan along with a detailed description of his love of both activities. And really those activities summed up at least 90% of Stefan's activities. If he wasn't drinking then there was a good chance he was with people, planning to drink.

Stefan also had a track record of failed relationships though for different reasons. It wasn't that he didn't pay attention or was an introvert. No, his lack of a steady relationship was more of a conscious choice. He liked the idea of being able to play the field to his liking and not have to worry about hurting someone. At least that's the way he saw it and the reason he had convinced himself of. But really, Stefan was afraid of commitment, not because he didn't think he wouldn't enjoy having that sort of connection, but because he didn't think he could handle it ending. So to overcompensate he went into every romantic relationship planning on it ending by the next morning.

Stefan had noticed the man sitting at the booth when he first walked in, but had taken the time to get a drink or two before approaching him. For one thing he wanted to check out the rest of the room before making a selection. Also at first the other man didn't look like he'd particularly enjoy being bothered. But a few drinks quieted that reasoning.

"Well I'm here," Stefan said, sliding into the booth opposite the man, a grin on his face and a third drink in his hand. "What are your next two wishes?"

[Randel Anthony]

There were few things that surprised Randel anymore (particularly in the vein of surprise meetings) because of his well-honed skill in precognition. People in particular seemed a favorite of his ability, and while he obviously couldn’t get a heads-up on everyone he met in life, he would often receive a warning for exceptional or – unusual meetings like this one. He held his coffee cup hovering before his lips, and lowered it slightly, brows furrowed.

“My other two - ?” He was a little slow on the uptake at the moment. It was early and he was taken off guard. Randel stared at the other man’s face for a second or two in awkward suspension.

Even after he’d managed to sort them out in his head, he still couldn’t quite be sure what it meant. He hadn’t much experience with flirting, much less from men, and he seemed naturally oblivious at that – the odds were stacked against him. Randel blinked up towards the ceiling and took a leisurely sip of his coffee.

“I’ve always wanted a BMW, I guess,” he mentioned.

If he’d known Stefan was a journalist, he’d have been much more wary, and perhaps quite brusque, towards him; the police department and the media were often at odds, and he was a detective, not a sheriff – no training for cameras or broadcasts or anything of the sort. And what other reason would Stefan have of engaging him?...His rather strange entry aside.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

[Stefan Spencer]

Stefan was in no hurry, so he just sat there grinning as the man across from him took the time he needed to process his line. Stefan often had that effect on people. He merely took it as a good sign that the man wasn't upset by his sudden entrance. Or that he hadn't simply walked away or asked Stefan to do so.

Getting your foot in the door (or your butt in the booth in this case) was half the battle.

"Well I can't help you there," Stefan said, smiling. "But if you ever wanna carpool back to my house, I can do that." He laughed a bit. He found that laughing at himself helped out a lot. It gave people a chance to take him less serious if needed. Of course he hoped that wasn't the case, but it helped. He took a sip of his drink, giving the man across from him a long look, not only to take in his good looks, but also his body language. It was still early enough in the afternoon/evening that his power was mostly functional.

True, Stefan was a journalist. But he wasn't into publishing the details of his love life in print. Although he sometimes tended to inform his friend or others in the bar about his latest adventures, even then he tried to keep names out the equation. Although his drinking made his hard sometimes.

"I was hoping there was something I could do for you," Stefan replied. "Like for starters, how about a drink?"

[Randel Anthony]

Randel’s pen hovered above his notebook. He was still a little slow on the uptake, but it was starting to sink in. He didn’t think he’d been hit on by the same sex since his college years – dusty coats and stubble and a frown generally didn’t “read” as anything but straight. Not that he was adverse to it. No: he’d had thoughts of it when he was younger, maybe even acted upon it, once or twice, though all his serious relationships had been with women.

”Well I can’t help you there,” the man said.

Randel smiled, a little warily. “One hit wonder, huh?” he said. Stefan might be able to tell that he was alert now, as opposed to the simple perplexity he’d exhibited before. Maybe he would’ve seen the moment it’d clicked in his eyes. But Randel was cautious, first and foremost, and he’d yet to reciprocate; he never seemed to eager to jump at propositions like this, and that was probably why all his encounters were few and far between.

He didn’t respond to his offer for a drink – just crossed his arms and shifted in his seat, and chuckled low, scratching the side of his head idly. “Do you get a lot of saps this way?”

[Stefan Spencer]

Admittedly, with Stefan's ability, he should be able to tell whether someone was opening and willing for the type of advances he had in mind. And while some part of his did sometimes try to point out to him that not everyone was open to an invitation to a party in his pants, that part was often drowning in liquor.

"Sorry, my wish granting abilities are a tad more specific," Stefan said, giving the man a shrug. Stefan had caught the moment when things started to click together for the man and he couldn't help but smile broader when it had.

Unlike Randel, Stefan was always reading and willing for pretty much any encounter. And while he usually had something sexual in nature in the back of his head as a goal, he was also usually willing for just about any proposition.

Stefan leaned forward a bit in his seat. "Who said I thought you were a sap?" he asked. "Maybe that's just my way of weeding out the saps?" He raised an eyebrow, trying to keep a straight face.