Neil Donovan is (incharge) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-01-05 17:58:00 |
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Entry tags: | castiel, norman osborn |
Who: Neil and Chloe
What: Exes have dinner and catch up.
Where: Circo.
When: Backdated to before the holidays.
Warnings/Rating: None.
Circo at the Bellagio had nearly everything in a restaurant that Chloe Murphy could want. Over the top decor, a sophisticated clientele, and food that (reputedly) tasted like it was fresh from Tuscany. Add a date with Neil Donovan on top of all of that, and it had the makings of one of her best evenings out since... well, in a very long time. But Chloe wasnât naive enough to think that this dinner get together with Neil was a date. It had been nearly a decade since she and that boy had last crossed paths, and she was sure that he thought the worst of her for how she had disappeared from his life. She wasnât entirely sure what would come of this meeting, but perhaps a bit of understanding on his part as to why she had left would come from it.
She was dressed in something black and form-fitting, chestnut hair left down in its natural waves. There was no fidgeting as she waited in the lobby of the Bellagio for him, instead standing with a sort of confidence that made it seem as though she belonged there, that she was, in fact, not waiting on anyone. An air of cool calm surrounded her, a buffer against the rest of the world that few chanced to cross, and that was precisely the way that Chloe preferred it. She was there for one reason and one reason alone that night - seeing Neil.
Neil had already been fairly certain that agreeing to dinner was a bad idea, and Louisâ pessimism certainly hadnât helped change his mind. There were a few times when he came close to calling it off entirely, and in all honestly, he did consider just not showing up at all, but in the end he couldnât do either. Despite how much Chloeâs disappearance had hurt, a part of him did want to see her again. There were no expectations, nothing he hoped for; an explanation might be nice, but otherwise he was walking into this blind. If worst came to worst, really, and the evening ended badly, heâd be no worse off than he already was. She hadnât been in his life for a long, long time, so not much would change in that sense. He didnât dare let himself think about the alternative, though; that things might actually go decently, or by some miracle, fairly well.
He wasnât counting on the latter, though.
Dressed somewhere between casual and sleek in brown, he showed up at the Bellagio only a minute or two after eight. Sam was a distant thought in his mind, but her pushed her to the side; things were complicated as hell there, and besides, this had nothing to do with her. Even with years and years between them, Neil recognized her on sight, and while he never would have said as much out loud, he had to admit she looked good. The key, however, was to play it cool. He was good at apathy, wasnât he? âHey,â he said as he approached, offering a polite smile. Nothing more, nothing less.
Like Neil, the moment the other man came in sight, Chloe recognized him, even without the sound of his voice. She gave an easy smile, turning towards him to give him her full attention, dark eyes bright. âNeil,â Chloe said warmly, taking several steps to close the distance between them, and without asking for permission, she leaned up to press her lips against his cheek in a warm kiss. âYou look just as good as I recall.â And there was no lie in her words whatsoever. There were many people that Chloe could have imagined running into in Sin City, but Neil Donovan was not on that list; finding that he was here was a surprise, a pleasant one, at that.
Dropping back down, she tucked her arm in against his, pressed against his side as she turned them towards the entrance to the restaurant. âSo. Weâve got nearly a decade of catching up to do. What brought you to Las Vegas?â
Well, any hope of personal space had just gone out the window, but Neil didnât have enough time to react and re-establish boundaries before sheâd closed the distance between them and kissed his cheek, all without asking permission. The worst part, though, was that he couldnât even manage to be angry at her; that was just how Chloe was. Even after all this time, she was so familiar, and it was like he could forget what sheâd done... for a moment or two, at least. âThanks,â he managed, grateful that he didnât blush easily, or even at all, and so he could play off the affection as meaningless. âYou... look pretty good yourself.â God, he was hopeless. He could only imagine what Louis would say if he could see him now. And Sam, what about Sam? Heâd probably get hell for that too. But then again, Louis wasnât his father, and good intentions aside he had no say in what he did or didnât do with his life, including who he chose to have dinner with.
âYeah, we do,â he agreed, allowing them to move arm-in-arm towards the entrance. So much for demanding answers. âI came here for... work, in a way. Helping out the family business. You know. A change of scenery didnât hurt either. What about you?â
At his compliment, Chloe let out a laugh, shaking her head in amusement, giving Neilâs arm a squeeze where her hand rested on his. âI look âpretty goodâ. Iâll simply have to try harder next time, wonât I?â Another laugh came as she walked alongside Neil, long strides to keep up with his greater height, positive that anyone looking at the pair of them would agree that they were certainly a pair that belonged together. It was amazing how the world worked sometimes, shuffling people together who simply belonged that way, and no matter what drew them apart, things just managed to fall to where they found their way back once more.
She didnât respond to his question immediately, instead giving the maitreâd her name for the reservations she had made for them, and after they were seated and left with menus, Chloe turned her full attention upon him. âItâs good that youâre still working with your family,â she started, her smile warm, those dark eyes intent upon him. âI didnât come here for work so much as a change of pace. I was in Seattle for a time and couldnât stand the clouds and rain another day, so I traded up for the desert. I still make the media rounds, and Iâm working with several support groups as a speaker as well.â The words led in to everything that had happened to her, because as far as she could tell, Neil hadnât a clue. She wanted him to ask, to open that door to letting her explain why she had behaved as she did so many years ago. It wasnât him, she would say, it was her, and she was sorry.
Oh, hell, it was all too easy to fall back into old routines with her acting like she was. He couldnât decide whether he should be exasperated, pissed off, or some strange sort of fond that spoke of lingering feelings which should have been crushed a long time ago, and in the end settled upon a mix of all three. The most predominant was, of course, the latter, because he was pathetic, and when it came to her Neil had always been a pushover. âWhat, âpretty goodâ isnât enough for you? Typical.â The thing was, it wasnât said cruelly; no, it was teasing, and why couldnât he just be angry at her and let it all out? âAlways the best, and nothing less,â he added. Which was why heâd never really understood why she was with him back in college. Sure, they looked good together, and they had similar backgrounds, but she was an ambitious go-getter while he was more laid back and uncertain. That hadnât stopped it from being fucking devastating when sheâd taken off with the professor, though.
He didnât realize he was actually waiting for her response until they were seated, and he found himself watching her expectantly in anticipation of what she might say. Yeah, pathetic, that was definitely him in a nutshell. âGood, yeah,â he shrugged. âMight do something different. I havenât decided yet.â He pretended to peruse his menu as she spoke, but oh, he was listening, and every detail she offered raised a dozen questions, none of which he was going to be able to resist asking. He wanted to try, to feign indifference, but he knew himself too well for that. What could it hurt, anyway, to let her explain? âA speaker for what? You mentioned Oprah, and media rounds... what were you up to all this time?â
âWhen there are so many other words or combinations of words you might have used? Yes, pretty good isnât good enough for me, Neil, and you ought to know that.â Despite how she had phrased her words, there was no venom in them, taking his teasing tone and matching it word for word, letting out a laugh that rolled through her gently. She knew that she had to tread gently when it came to Neil Donovan; too many things had happened, and he, out of everyone, lacked the proper explanations that he had deserved. It was just one of a few things that Chloe had regretted over the years, and one that she now intended on making up for.
She could tell the way he was waiting for her to talk, the look he gave her, the divided attention he offered the menu, and oh, Chloe sucked it in like she was dying of thirst. âSomething different?â she asked, touching on his words before daring to offer a whisper of explanation. âSuch as...?â The menu was opened, and beneath the table, Chloe crossed one leg over the other, foot just brushing Neilâs beneath the table before she settled. âA speaker for people who have recently escaped from cults and other such groups. I relate to them my experiences in hopes that they may find some wisdom in what I did right, and what I did wrong.â The menu was flipped over, finger trailing down the page. âWhen I left school, Neil,â Chloe started, looking up towards him, dark brown eyes sincere and not lacking in honesty. âDr. Anderson, the professor? He was recruiting for a society he led. I call it a society, but honestly, it was a cult by all definitions of the word. Before I realised what had happened, it was too late.â
Neil held his hands up in a mock gesture of surrender, and yes, he did grin, but at least he could come out of this saying that heâd managed to refrain from catering completely to her whims and coming up with a more suitable compliment. Not that he couldnât think of any, but he wasnât about to lay down and become a doormat all over again; he had some pride. âI guess I forgot. Itâs been a while,â he added, and there it was, the best he could do in terms of reminding her that no, he hadnât forgotten how sheâd left, and he hadnât forgotten the intervening years of no contact either. Maybe he should mention Sam, tell her heâd moved on, but he didnât want to use her like that, not when he wasnât even sure what they were. The fact that he found himself recalling that he liked Chloeâs laugh, considering he hadnât heard it in nearly a decade, didnât help matters either. But a lot of ex-couples still cared about each other, didnât they? Maybe the whole point of this was for closure, so he could stop being so reluctant to open up to anyone, and Chloe could... continue on doing whatever it was she was doing here in Las Vegas.
In all honesty, he should have known better. He did know better, but old habits died hard, and heâd never quite learned how to properly deny her what she wanted, whether it be attention or something else. âIâm still working that part out,â he admitted, âbut something for me, something I want, instead of just working for my parents.â He had no idea why he was even telling her this, really. She probably didnât care. For a moment, he was certain heâd just imagined her foot brushing his beneath the table, and no, he wasnât going to dwell on it. Heâd been on the threshold of telling Sam how he felt, because she was the first woman heâd really cared for since the one sitting across from him, but now she was back, and everything felt like it had just been turned upside-down. His eyebrows went up at the word cults, and yeah, that upside-down feeling was definitely relevant now. Cults were like something out of a movie, or a book, and he simply stared at her as he told her the professor, the one heâd been so certain sheâd run off to marry, was actually some recruiter for a cult. A cult sheâd been brought into, and... presumably left, considering she was here. âSo he... what, recruited you into this cult? Thatâs why you went with him?â Rhetorical questions, maybe, since it seemed like that was what she was telling him. âHow did you get out?â
Whatever it was that Neil thought about her, about what she did and didnât care about, those were his opinions and not necessarily the truth. Because Chloe did care about what he had been up to, because for all that had happened between them, there was history there, and she had truly cared about him. Perhaps even still cared about him, but that was still to be determined. They were so different in many ways, and perhaps thatâs the reason they had fit together well. Chloe needed someone, at times, to slow her down, to keep her from getting lost in her work, and conversely, she could offer the motivation, the need to get things done. Give and take, thatâs what relationships were built on. âAnd you havenât been able to figure out what you want?â Chloe asked, glancing up as the sommelier arrived at the table, offering a glass of the house red to start their evening off, and taking the offered glass, she gave a nod of thanks and turned her attention back towards Neil. A sip, a moment to enjoy the bloom of the wine, and she sat the glass back down, fingertips lingering on the stem.
âWhen you put it that way, it sounds ridiculous, I know. But he- did you ever speak with him, Dr. Anderson? He had this way of making someone feel as though they were important, this way of making you feel like you could be part of something really fantastic, important, something that could change the very world. He knew how to talk to me, and he said what I wanted to hear, and before I knew what was happening, my life was so tied up with them that I couldnât simply leave.â Her gaze dropped to the top of the table for a moment, brow furrowing down as she examined the glass of wine intently. âAnd I left when his attentions moved to someone who was younger, prettier, and apparently more capable than I was. It was a wakeup call, being replaced. So I left. And Iâve been running from it ever since.â Chloe let out a long sigh, taking another sip of wine, chasing away those shadows. Neil may not have noticed, but lurking in the restaurant, towards the entrance, two men watched. Dark suits, innocuous; her security detail, ever since the attempt on her life some months prior. They watched her, went where she went, and had been part of her life for so many weeks that she hardly noticed them nowadays. âItâs been difficult,â she said a moment later, something quiet and fragile in her tone. âBut I think it was good. Good that I left.â And she looked back up then, meeting his gaze and holding onto it. âIâm sorry, Neil. For leaving like I did. For being unable to explain any of it to you.â One hand reached across the table, brushing the sleeve of his jacket, a feather-light touch. âI donât expect for you to forgive me, but I am sorry. You deserved more than that from me.â
Considering his recent... issues, drinking probably wasnât the wisest idea, but neither had agreeing to dinner in the first place, and Neil certainly wasnât going to turn down some fine wine. He seized the distraction as a way to put off answering, even if just for a few minutes. Once heâd accepted his glass, however, and taken a slightly longer sip than was necessary, there wasnât much more stalling he could do. âNo,â he admitted finally, clearly not used to discussing this with anyone, much less her. âI havenât. Itâs easier said than done, you know? If I could just snap my fingers and know, I would.â That was, admittedly, the one thing he felt like Sam didnât fully understand. Sure, figuring out what he wanted and going for it sounded like a good idea, but how was he supposed to figure it out in the first place?
Now that was something to think about. He couldnât quite recall if heâd ever spoken to Dr. Anderson, only that heâd hated the man with a burning passion after Chloe left with him, and he ended up shrugging. âOnce or twice, maybe.â Nothing that would help him understand the hold heâd had over her. But he tried, he really did, to imagine someone like the way she described the professor, and what it would be like to fall under their spell. And, if nothing else, he knew she would have loved to be told just how important she was, and anyone else who knew that would have prime material with which they could manipulate her. âIt does sound a little ridiculous, but... it also sounds true. I donât think youâd make something like this up, and you left, didnât you?â That had to mean sheâd been lured away by false pretenses. Yet he hadnât been enough to keep her. Hadnât been enough to fight Dr. Andersonâs influence and make her see the truth. âDoesnât sound like he ever cared about you,â he added. Not like I did went unsaid, perhaps. He hadnât noticed the suited men by the door, not quite used to having to be aware of the presence of security, but as he looked around with new eyes at her revelation, they caught his eye, and he wondered. âOf course itâs good you got out, Chloe. Cults are dangerous. Youâre better off now,â he said, and there was a rare sort of conviction in his words; even if it was still dangerous now, it was far preferable to being trapped in some crazy cult leaderâs clutches. Maybe it should have worried him, how willing he was to believe, to accept that she hadnât left him because she wanted to, and maybe later he would think on it and regret his impulsiveness, but this wasnât later. It was now.
Heâd always been so damn sure he wouldnât forgive her if she ever apologized, but here he was, weakening more and more by the second. âI donât know if I forgive you,â he managed, and it took a lot of willpower just to say that. âI... appreciate the explanation, though. I spent a long time thinking you left for other reasons.â
Chloe said nothing for the longest time, eventually drawing her fingers away from where they had brushed his sleeve, letting them rest against the stem of the wine glass instead, manicured and perfectly shaped, losing herself in her thoughts for several moments. Finally, she lifted her eyes towards him, holding his gaze as she spoke. âIf you need any help figuring it out, Neil, you know that Iâm here. Even if itâs just to be a sounding board for you to bounce ideas off of. We always worked well together, after all.â For all that had happened, Chloe was wise enough to realise that the reason they were here as they were was because of her decisions, what she had done, and even though nearly a decade had passed since they had last seen one another, she also felt that there was still something there. Something to grab hold of, to dig her nails into.
As the conversation came back to Dr. Anderson and everything that had happened there, Chloe took another long swallow of wine, thumbing the corner of her mouth clean moments later. âNo, I donât think that he cared much about me in the slightest,â she said quietly, her gaze downcast. âI simply thought I was part of something bigger. It was as though the Queen herself asked me to work for her. That was how important I felt, and I couldnât pass that by.â Dark eyes flicked up, glancing towards him again. As manipulative as Chloe could be, as histrionic as she tended to run, her words were, at least, honest. âI donât deserve forgiveness,â she said softly. âBut someday I hope that I might be able to earn it, at least from you.â A soft sigh escaped her and she leaned back, dark eyes flicking up towards the ceiling, wet and shining in the light of the dining room. There was something small about her right then, hurt, damaged.
Until just then, Neil had done a pretty damn good job of keeping Sam firmly out the current situation, tucking her away in the back of his mind until later, when he could deal with just how much this complicated things, Chloe being here. It didnât change his feelings for Sam, but it would be a lie to say he felt nothing at all for his ex, even after all these years, and heâd never been good with feelings even when things were simpler, never mind now. Her offer to help him âfigure it outâ was what brought the other woman smack dab into the middle of things, because previously, sheâd been the only one he had spoken to about this. It almost felt like a betrayal, agreeing to talk about it with Chloe too, but he had a really, really hard time turning her down. God, he was such a fucking pushover. âSure,â he managed, and he hated himself even as he said it. âI know we do-- did. I remember. Iâll keep that in mind.â There. Not quite acceptance, but not outright refusal, either. Louis would be disgusted, but it was better than nothing.
Unlike him, Chloe had always possessed aspirations of greatness. He knew that, and maybe it was why he found it easy to believe her, to believe that sheâd been blinded by promises of importance and power and lured away. Belief and forgiveness, however, were not the same. Neil wasnât quite that weak. âSomething bigger,â he repeated. Bigger than him, than university, than whatever they might have had if theyâd stayed together. But didnât he want that now, some sense of purpose? âI can understand that.â He took another drink when she said she didnât deserve forgiveness, but that she hoped for it, and then another, because he hated seeing her like that. Chloe wasnât weak. She never had been; sheâd always been strong, determined, and all anger and bitterness aside, he didnât want to see her hurt. âHey,â he cajoled, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand and offer a smile. âLetâs order. I hear the food here is pretty good.â
Chloe didnât actively try to manipulate people, but she had a gift for doing what would get her what she wanted more often than not. And what she wanted then was his attention, and as he reached across the table to give her fingers a squeeze, she looked back towards him, fingers squeezing his tightly before she gave a small nod of her head. âThe food might be good,â she said quietly, running her thumb over his fingers where they clutched hers, âbut the company is better.â Another squeeze and it was she that released the grip, that same hand moving towards her wine glass, fingers stroking the stem before she lifted it for a slow drink.
The waiter came by shortly after, and after they had both ordered and their wine refilled, they were left to themselves once more. âSo,â Chloe began, lacing her fingers together and leaning towards him, giving him all of her attention. âDo tell me how Las Vegas has been treating you. Is it true that what happens here tends to stay here, or is that simply something they say to get the tourists flocking here in groves?â
From an outsiderâs point of view, the two of them might have looked pretty cozy, but in Neilâs mind, this didnât necessarily mean anything. A lot of time had passed, after all, and just because he still cared about her didnât mean he was about to start rekindling old flames. Not with Sam in the picture, at least. Maybe things would have been different without her, but there was in point in thinking about what ifs that were never going to become anything other than wisps of the impossible. At the most, he just hoped he and Chloe could be friends, even if that was a lot more complicated than he was willing to admit. âGood to know Iâm better than ridiculously-priced food,â he quipped, even though he would, and had, pay to eat said food. When you had a lot of money, it stopped losing its meaning after a while.
Though he did accept a refill on his wine when the waiter approached, he was actually fairly proud of himself for keeping his drinking to a minimum, when he could have downed half a bottle on his own by this point under different circumstances. The topic of recent events in Las Vegas was, depending on perspective, both welcome and something he wanted to avoid, but admittedly it hadnât been all bad. âNot too bad, depending on the day,â he shrugged. âSome things stay here. I havenât heard about most of the crazy things that happen here spreading out to anywhere else, not yet. Maybe thatâs part of the appeal. Come here, indulge in a little madness, and then leave it all behind.â
Chloe was quiet for a long while at those words, taking them, rolling them around in her thoughts, and then she gave Neil a simple smile. âIâve had quite enough of madness, Iâve decided,â she started, locking gazes with him. âIâm ready for something a bit more serious now, something that I wonât leave behind, this time.â The words were heavy, laced with meaning, and Chloe didnât bother to hide the look in her eyes upon saying them. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, their starters arrived moments later, and as Chloe picked up her fork, holding it delicately, she gave Neil a long look before simply smiling and tucking in. âLetâs enjoy our ridiculously overpriced food, Neil. Weâll have plenty of time to talk later, I believe.â