He's not heavy, he's my brother (in law).
Who: Ben and Sam Where: Saints & Sinners When: Sunday night
As per usual, Saints & Sinners was busy as hell. Hey... good strip clubs almost NEVER have a dead night... and S&S was one of the premier ones in the area. Tonight? Ben was at his usual private table in the back of the club... but rather than Skylar, who usually tended to accompany his these days, he was hanging with his brand-spankin'-new brother-in-law, Sam. Dressed in a black, pinstriped suit with red tie, which was worn loose, Ben sat back lazily in his seat, grinning with mischievous delight, as he watched his favorite dancer, Eve, do her thing. He handed Sam a fifty dollar bill, folded in half. "If you're thinking of a lap dance... you can't pass up on Eve here. Christ, she's hot..."
When Skylar had told him that she had set up a time for Samuel to meet up with her husband, she'd told him it would be at a place called Saints & Sinners. Sam, however, hadn't done his research and simply assumed it was another goth-themed club owned by Benjamin Bale, similar to Avarice, where he'd spent many a night since arriving in LA. The establishment had looked promising enough when he'd stepped out of his cab and been waved in by the bouncer. It hadn't taken more than two steps inside, however, for Sam to realize what he'd gotten himself into. The word, "Motherfucker," may have passed his lips. Now, he sat in the back of the club with his brother-in-law, a freshly topped off glass of Jameson's on the rocks sitting on the table before him. "I'm really not," Sam replied, waving off the bill and leaning back in the booth, trying - and failing - to look comfortable in his charcoal sport coat and cornflower blue shirt, the collar left open.
"You sure? Even your sister likes Eve." Heh. So the newlyweds liked the resident succubus. Big shock, right? "Your choice, of course. So..." He continued, even as another dancer had come over and was almost literally grinding her ass against Ben's chest. "I understand you've got... a problem you'd like to discuss with me."
"Yeah, I'm sure," Sam replied, glancing over at the woman again, lifting two fingers in a brief wave as the blonde looked over at their table during the middle of her routine. Skylar would pick a place like this. Damn that woman, he thought, taking a long sip from his drink as the other dancer started rolling her hips against his brother-in-law's shirtfront. "Yeah. I figured Skylar gave you the lowdown before the wedding," he said, eyeing the dancer. It wasn't that Sam objected to strip clubs - he'd been to his share over the years, of course - but he was mindful enough of how the press operated.
"Yes... we did manage to find the time to get a little talking in..." Oh, how the mun snickered there. Anyway... "But I need you to tell me, in as much detail as possible, what exactly is going on with you."
Sam couldn't help but smirk at that, running a fingertip along the rim of his glass. He cleared his throat, his eyes shifting from Ben to the dancer, then back to Ben again. This was something he wanted to keep close to the vest; the fewer people knew about it, the better.
Ben got it, really. That look. With a single gesture, he sent both Eve and the other dancer off on their separate ways. "Alright. And this better be good to send such beautiful women away..."
Another sip from his drink, and Ben would notice that Sam leaned forward in his seat to take an appreciative last look at the backsides of the two dancers as they twitched their way back to the floor. Proof that he wasn't blind, one might suppose. Leaning forward, resting his arms on the table, he returned his attention to Ben. "I don't know how much Skylar actually told you, Ben, but... about a month before I came out to LA, I started hearing voices. Then I realized that I was hearing... thoughts," Sam explained, his countenance stone serious.
"So... unwilling telepathy. Fascinating..." Ben replied, setting his chin in his hand as he listened, his expression a mix of awe and intrigue. "Do you have any control at all over it? Over what you hear?"
Well, at least he had the man's attention, though, with all the gorgeous, mostly naked women around, Sam began to wonder how long he could keep Ben's attention. "Minimal. Very minimal. Most of the time, there's just a lot of background noise, garbled thoughts, with a few thoughts coming in clear," he explained, looking down into his drink. "Sometimes, I can block everything out, but that takes a lot of concentration, leaves me pretty drained. Other times, I can focus on a person and just listen to them." Then there were other times when he inadvertently heard what someone was thinking when they were most vulnerable, but he didn't think Ben needed to hear that.
"Wait... you... can you hear what I'M thinking? Right now?" Ben asked, hoping for SAM'S sake not, as he was essentially fantasizing about he and Skylar having threesomes with pretty much every dancer HERE.
In truth, Sam had been trying especially hard not to hear Ben's thoughts. It wasn't his business, just as he tried not to listen to Skylar's and especially not Haylee's. Of course, as soon as Ben asked that, Sam let his guard down, and he could hear Ben's voice whisperingly hotly in his head, rattling off the things he and Skylar would do with Eve. Just as quickly, the barrier went back up, and he leveled his gaze at his brother-in-law. "I'm trying really hard not to, Bale," he said.
"Sorry about anything you might hear or see. Your sister is pretty much in every depraved thought I have. Can't really help it." He actually gave Sam an apologetic wince there, as he KNEW that most of his thoughts were likely to make the other guy want to gag. "So... the key is finding a way to help you gain some control over this." He took a few moments to think, grumbling a little. "I know a telekinetic... but that's a different type of thing... I can talk to some people, see if anyone knows an experienced telepath that might be able to help you learn some control... if not, perhaps the Watchers that work with your sister could help."
Those were thoughts he was most certainly not interested in reading, and Sam locked down that mental barrier as tightly as he could. Ben might have noticed an increased tension in his shoulders and his face as he concentrated to shut out the other man's thoughts. "It's... it's fine," he said, surprised to find himself slightly breathless. "Sky... didn't really seem to think it was possible to get rid of it. If there was any way to do that, I'd prefer it, but... exerting some control without feeling like I've run a goddamned marathon would be nice." Something Ben had said struck him then, and Sam looked at the other man. "What's a Watcher?"
"....the people that train girls like Skylar?" Then it hit him. And he practically facepalmed. "Fuck. You have NO idea what any of us are, do you." Mouth? Meet foot. Pleasure to meet you, really.
"People that..." Samuel paused, staring at Benjamin with a furrowed brow, his mouth slightly agape. "Ben... look... I might be able to read minds, but that doesn't mean I've got a fucking clue what you're talking about."
"Fuck. Skylar was gonna have to tell you at some point..." Ben rolled his eyes, wondering why this shit always fell to HIM. "Ok. Telepathy? No big shit to me. My entire family is made up of werewolves. And your sister? Is a vampire slayer. Any questions?" Good going, Ben. Way to break it to him gently.
To his credit, Sam didn't turn and walk out, nor did he laugh in Ben's face. Instead, James reached for his class and knocked back the rest of his shot in one gulp, dabbing at his mouth with the back of his hand. "I'm gonna need another," he said, shaking his head quickly, adding, "A double." Leaning back in his seat, Sam didn't say anything else for a moment, then looked at Ben again. "So, if she's some kind of monster killer, why'd she marry you, Fido?" he asked, a hint of anger tingeing his voice.
Luckily? Ben was used enough to people questioning he and Skylar's relationship that this barely PHASED him. "Not all 'monsters' are bad, or 'evil', or whatever you see in movies, Sam. Things aren't quite that black and white in real life. My family... we might not be model citizens all the time... but we're hardly 'bad'."
Fortunately, Samuel wasn't long in waiting for a waitress, and he lifted his glass. "Another Jameson's on the rocks. Double. Thanks," he said, watching a moment as the attractive blonde made her way to the bar. Again, he remained quiet, waiting until the woman set his drink in front of him and removed the empty glass. "Thanks." His dark eyes finally lifted toward Ben again. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. Thirty seconds ago, I didn't even know this sort of shit was real, now I'm already being a judgmental prick about it."
"If it helps... you're actually accepting it quite well. Most people don't even believe it at first, or at least until they see it." Then he smirked, remembering something. "We're actually the reason your new... girlfriend... is here now."
"I'm still not entirely convinced, but... I guess it makes sense. She always did have this weird thing about hanging out in graveyards," Sam replied, only half jokingly. He could accept himself being able to read the minds of complete strangers, but couldn't accept the possibility that vampires and werewolves might be real? An interesting disconnect. "Haylee? I don't think I understand." Then, a look of horror crossed his face. "Son of a bitch... don't tell me... she's a vampire or a succubus or something, isn't she?"
"No... while her outfits may suggest otherwise, your darling is quite the human. However, she seems to have picked up a stalker, one that she suspects is either a vampire or demon. And she came to us for protection. All I asked for in return was that she drop from her label... and sign with mine." Ben was a lot of things... but a ruthless businessman was at the forefront.
"She mentioned something about a stalker... " he murmured, thinking back to that first conversation he'd had with her in Avarice. James looked up then, lifting a brow as he studied his brother-in-law's face. "That's stone cold, Bale," Sam said with a smirk, taking another long sip from his glass.
Ben just gave a totally unapologetic shrug there, and laughed a little under his breath. "It's all business, Sam. But you're family now... and I don't believe in lying to family. You'll hear things exactly as they are from me. No sugar-coating, no coddling. And your girlfriend is in good hands. We'll have this taken care of quickly."
"Well, consider me grateful that you've kept her alive, Ben" Sam replied, saluting the other man with a raised glass. Who, exactly, "we" was, James didn't know, and he really wasn't sure he wanted to, not yet anyway. "I haven't told her yet. I mean, how does something like that come up? 'Hey, babe, I know we've only been together for a few weeks, but I can read minds. But not yours, I mean, not unless we're getting it on, and then it's totally inadvertent.'" More information that Ben needed to know, but something told Sam that it wouldn't phase the other man in the least.
Ben's first thought there? Come on. You knew it would be something like this... "At least you'll know if she's faking it..." He blurted out, just being himself...
Sam raised his brow as he hovered over his drink again, staring at the other man through narrowed lids. "Not sure I'd really count that as a benefit, Bale," he retorted, giving another shake of his head. The whiskey went down smoothly as he tipped the glass to his lips; leaning back against the booth, his gaze wandered out over the club once more. "Well, can't say my time in LA has been dull, that's for sure. Fly out to see my sister, hook up with Haylee James, then start dating her, watch my sister get married, find out her husband is a werewolf and Sky's a vampire killer. Oh - almost forgot." Another sip. "Watching as my sister and my girlfriend act like they're going to claw each other's eyes out within two minutes of meeting one another."
"Gotta admit though... that was one of the highlights of the day. I felt like I was watching a bad episode of Springer or something. Not that there's any other type, really." He shrugged, sipping at his own drink. "And one thing you'll find: no such THING as a dull moment around here. So don't be expecting one."
"And here I was hoping that they'd like each other. I probably should have tossed that idea right out the window even before talk to Skylar when I got in," Sam replied, laughing. "Did Sky tell you how she found out about Haylee and me?" he asked, not waiting for a reply. "The morning after we met at Avarice, it was all over the front page of one of those trashy gossip rags Sky reads. I didn't know if I should be flattered or mortified." He still couldn't believe that headline. As he tilted his head back against the seat of the booth, Sam smiled; despite the bevy of bizarre news, he looked positively happy. "It hasn't slowed down since the moment I stepped into the terminal at LAX. I have a feeling it's only going to pick up knowing what I now know."
"Oh, we saw it." He smirked, because, face it... in his own lovable way? Ben was a JACKASS. "I framed it and hung it above Skylar's side of the bed. The look on her face was priceless."
"I make no apologies for my apparent irresistibility to pop stars. And before you ask, no, I didn't use my 'abilities' on her," Sam replied, giving Ben a level look. Despite Ben's proclivity for being a douchebag, it occurred to him that he and his brother-in-law may actually get along in the future. "So, it sounds like the bottom line is that there's not really any way to get rid of this," he continued, gesturing at his temple, "right? The best I can hope for is increased control over who I listen to and what I hear?"
"Well..." Ben thought about that, before giving an actually mature answer. Hey... he enjoyed being a dick, but this was his family now. And Ben never took the health of his family lightly. "Here's the deal. I know people that deal with things like mental blocks, etc. I could probably find a way to have the ability completely blocked. Not gotten rid of, but essentially turned off. But... think about this: if you were given this ability... what if you're meant to use it for great things... and ignore it?"
Sam didn't answer for a moment, choosing instead to turn his attention toward the club. Eve was back up on the stage running through her routine much to the delight of the patrons. It didn't take a telepath to see why Ben was interesting in arranging a hook up between himself, Sky, and the dancer. James shook his head to clear that particular thought away. "I'd considered that. It's not my favorite option... hell, half the time it feels more like a disability than anything else. But... you bring up an interesting point, Bale."
"Well of course. I always do." Oh, what a cheeky bastard. "And if you're wondering why you keep feeling a pull toward Eve... don't worry. She's not just hot... she's a succubus. She has that effect on ALL of us. And give me time... I'll try to find someone who can help you harness this ability of yours."
What the fuck am I getting myself into? Sam thought bitterly, forcing his eyes away from the stage and back to his drink. No, this was good. It wasn't optimal, but having control over this... whatever it was would make life easier. And it might prove helpful. Predictably, his thoughts strayed back to Haylee: how would she react; would she be upset; would she think he was a freak? Sam washed those thoughts away with another long swig from his glass. "Time. Well, if I didn't already have reason enough to stay in Los Angeles, this would be enough by itself. I need to start looking for a place, I think. I can only mooch off the expense account for so long," he mused, smiling at the dim reflection in his glass.
Now, what kind of good pseudo-mafia don would Ben be if he didn't know some good real estate people? "If you're looking for something nearby, I can help you get something, I'm sure..."
He regarded Ben anew with a raised brow, head tilted to the side. "Hm... I may take you up on that. Nothing too ostentatious, though. I may be a James, but I have my brooding hipster rep to maintain. A spacious apartment would probably suffice for now until I decide whether or not to make this a more... permanent relocation."
"Consider it done. I'll have my assistant look into some places for me, and forward you the information." Was it really that simple for him? "The same people that found me the home I bought for Skylar and myself deal with a good amount of small condos and the like."
"Why do I get the feeling that this particular favor is going to result in you needing a favor or three from me?" Sam asked, a note of challenge in his voice as he shifted to lean on the table, forearms resting against the flat surface, eyes locked with Sam's. After all, this was the same man who had just told him how he'd agreed to help Haylee with her potentially life-threatening problem - but only if she joined his record label. Sam didn't need his abilities to understand that the werewolf was a schemer.
"Nonsense. You're family. I don't make deals with family." Hey... Ben was honest, if nothing else. "Your sister is my world. She adores you. That's enough for me."
There was the temptation to peer into the man's mind, to discover just how sincere Ben's offer actually was. Sam refused to do so, instead looking in the man's face and being satisfied with what he found there. "Alright. Forward me whatever you find, and I'll take a look. As to the other, let me know when you can set something up. I'll keep doing my best not to go fucking insane with all these voices in my head."
"You know... I think Skylar would like it very much if you came over to our place soon for dinner. She isn't the type to admit it... but I know she misses her family at times." Granted, she had a new family now... but Ben knew better than anyone how important your blood relatives were to you.
"Let's plan on that, then. Maybe Lydia will even grace us with her presence," he replied, nodding and grinning. He recalled Lydia saying she lived with Ben and Sky, but he wasn't sure how much time she actually spent there. Whether or not he would bring Haylee was another matter; considering the way the two women responded to each other during their first meeting, civility was no certainty. James brought a hand to his face, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "Damn... good thing I took a cab. I think I may have had one drink too many," he muttered. He didn't feel sick, but he definitely had the strange sensation that he was levitating.
"Don't worry about the cab. I'll drop you off. I was going to be leaving soon anyway. As much as I love watching these women shake their tits in my face... I have a wife, a baby, and now a suddenly adopted 14 year old kid to care for." He rolled his eyes, wondering again how he got here. "I think my nights of staying out all night staring at slutty women are over."
"Something tells me that depends entirely on whether you can get a babysitter so that your wife can come with you," Sam replied with a grin. He decided not to pursue the question of the newly adopted 14-year-old. That sounded like a very involved and potentially messy story. "Thanks for all of this, Ben," Sam said, standing from the table, resting the palm of his right hand flatly against it.
"Anytime, Sam. Like I said: you're family now. Anything you need, don't ever hesitate to ask me." The werewolf extended a hand to the other man, that snarky grin on his face again. "And you're welcome here anytime. Next time... indulge a little. You won't be sorry."