Who: Adam and Athena What: Dinner! When: Wednesday (after the blackout) at 6 PM Where: Bathos 801 (AKA Athena’s apartment) Warnings: Uh. Possibly yelling and general irritability, but there just as easily might not be.
Fortunately, Adam’s shift at the bar hadn’t gone too badly. Sure, there were the usual troublemakers, the guys who seemed dead-set on making everybody’s lives miserable (or at least difficult), the guys who’d had far more than they probably should, but getting out at 6, hours earlier than he would have had to and therefore hours before the usual levels of irritation that tended to build up when it got to be that late, had resulted in a much-improved mood. When he arrived at her doorstep, therefore, after a quick stop by his place to change into something more suitable to dinner rather than dealing with rowdy drunks, he was actually almost relaxed, calm, and, if not exactly pleasant, at least not entirely miserable either.
Finding his way to her apartment was easy. Once he got off the elevator (a contraption he made a mental note to avoid on the trip down) it was just a matter of following his nose to her door. After stopping to evaluate it for a minute or so he knocked heavily, not quite banging but not just a sharp rap either. Athena had rescheduled her appointments to free up much of her afternoon. She left work and went right to the grocery store, purchasing everything she needed fresh. She got back to her apartment and did all the prep work for the meal, but didn’t start cooking right away. It was still only 2pm, and Adam wasn’t due until 6pm. The beef daube only took two hours, so Athena busied herself by taking a shower and changing into moderately dressy pants and a teal blouse. She also cleaned up the apartment, though it was generally kept in very good condition. At around 4pm, she began to cook.
By the time Adam knocked on her door, a thick, delicious aroma filled the apartment, and Athena had already uncorked a bottle of wine - one Shiloh had suggested. The table was set for the two of them nicely, but not too fancily. She opened the door and offered Adam a truly warm smile. “Hi, come in,” she greeted, pulling the door back and stepping slightly to the side to let him in. “Thanks.” Adam nodded in greeting as he moved past her, gracing her with a slight smile of his own as he glanced around the apartment. The food smelled good, a point he made clear with an approving grunt as he raised his head an inch or so to get a good whiff. It smelled like...meat. And vegetables. Two very good things when put in combination, particularly when Sophie was responsible for the combination; he’d missed her cooking, even though she hadn’t done it often when they’d been “together,” for lack of a better word. Adam approved.
He’d bothered to change his shirt but not his jeans, making for an odd combination between dressed up and casual, both working against each other to meet somewhere halfway between. Compared with her attire, not to mention the table itself, he gathered that he had probably underdressed. Not that he was particularly bothered; he was comfortable, and it wasn’t like they were going out for the evening. Just a quiet dinner inside, nothing fancy. “How’d you do during the blackout?” Athena shut the door quietly behind him and led him into the kitchen, intent on checking on the stew just once more before it was ready to be served. She motioned for him to sit at the table as she responded, “Alright for the most part. The dark still...gives me nightmares, but I went over to my neighbor’s place.” She resisted the urge to ask how his night had been, only because she had asked that when she called to set up their dinner. With one last stir to the pot, she covered it and turned back to him. “Dinner’ll be ready in a few minutes.”
There was a pause, as she sat down at the table with him. “How is everyone? Have you...kept in touch?” she asked softly, referring to the handful of servants that had been at the Castle with them over the years. Adam’s brow furrowed at the mention of a neighbor, but he managed to curb his tongue. For now. He could always ask who later, and it was probably nothing anyway. Probably.
Probably nothing more than an overly-accommodating unattached male who had nothing better to do with his time than prey on the fears of attractive women.
He made a note to remember to ask about this neighbor of hers.
Her question gained little more than a shrug and a glance towards the stew on the stove. “They left not long after you did, and I haven’t seen much of them since,” he added brusquely. He left out the part where he had been the reason for their leave-taking, but the implication was clear enough; considering his temperament, it was really more of a surprise they hadn’t left sooner. Athena nodded at the answer, following his gaze toward the stove. “I had wondered what had become of them,” she said, though it was clear from her tone that she had also wondered about him. He had never been far from her thoughts, even as she shed identity after identity. Sophie had always been there, just below the surface. She stood then, and walked to the stove, turning off the burner and giving the stew a nice long stir. It looked like it had come out the right way despite not having made it for a number of years.
“Do you mind helping me?” Athena asked, turning to him with a slight smile, gesturing to the pot. It was a bit heavy considering she had doubled the beef and added a third more potatoes than called for. All to make it more delicious for Adam. “It’s been a while since I’ve cooked more than one portion,” she added, feeling the need to explain herself. This comment cheered him more than he might have expected, doing much to dull the nagging irritation the mention of her neighbor had induced. Not entirely, of course, since the subconscious has a way of arguing away reason and placing irrational concerns in their place regardless, but some. If she hadn’t seen the need to cook for anyone else, than anything that had cropped up couldn’t have been that serious, and so therefore his conclusions were perhaps baseless. “Of course.” He nodded agreeably, rising from the table to join her by the stove, all too willing to assist her, and it was the work of moments to move pot to table.
“Really,” he commented while ladling out helpings into the bowls on the table. It was a question, despite the finality of it, and the edge of doubt underneath was (largely) unintentional. She stepped back to give him more room to move the pot to the table, and did as she had all those years ago. A ladle was used to fill both of their bowls before she took her seat again. “Thank you,” Athena replied warmly, as she unfolded her napkin neatly across her lap. She stirred her stew with her fork for a moment before spearing a potato and tasting it. Perfect, just as she had suspected it would be.
“Yes,” she said softly. “The office has been my life while here in Seattle, and before that it was classes and practicing. I was never one for socializing,” Athena amended, offering him a slight smile. “I haven’t changed as much as you might think.” Her observation was said lightly, meant to be teasing. She hoped he’d take it that way. Adam had little of her thought for decorum and merely dug in once they were both served, although he at least had the good sense not to slurp. The food was good, a point he made a note to make a little later, not that he had doubted it would be. Her observation was received with a somewhat doubting look over the bowl and spoon. “You changed your name. You don’t do that unless you’re trying to start over.” Athena enjoyed the first few bites of her stew as he dug in. She had always savored things worth enjoying, whether it was a good stew, a good book, or the company of someone she cared for. His doubting look wasn’t lost on her, but she chose not to respond to it. Better to deal with him in an even tone then get defensive about it. That one was a lesson she had learned very early on during her stay with him.
“My name has evolved over the years, yes,” she conceded. “Before I was Athena Henderson, my name was Sophie Henderson. I have never strayed too far from Sophie, and there’s still a part of her in me,” Athena added, neglecting to add that the part of Sophie she still carried with her was locked away in a tidy little corner along with her feelings for Adam. The two went hand in hand, in her eyes. “I needed a break from being Sophie Martineux. She was damaged, Adam. Badly. Broken beyond repair. She still is.” But I could have fixed her if you’d stayed.
But he knew that was absurd even as he thought it. The most he’d been able to do was let her leave, let her find her own way and make the bastard pay for what he’d done after she’d left. He hadn’t been much use while she’d still been there, content to let her hide in her rooms as long as she needed to instead of forcing her to face it head-on, in part because he hadn’t known what else to do and in part because he hadn’t been entirely convinced trying to do anything else would have ended in anything but chasing her away sooner. And once again becoming her jailer wouldn’t have been the right course regardless, he knew that now just as much as he had then. Perhaps leaving her to her solitude and her own choices had been the right course, perhaps not, but the fact of the matter was that he couldn’t have fixed her even if he’d tried. Suppressed rage and frustration seldom helps anything, and while he hadn’t been able to avoid his own defects in personality he’d at least had the presence of mind to recognize their ineffectiveness in fixing much of anything.
So instead he snorted, fixing her with a steely gaze that he knew was the wrong thing to do even as it happened but seemed powerless to prevent. “So you abandoned her, in hopes that it would fix everything. Well, did it? Is everything fixed?” Athena knew it had been rough on the both of them in the first few decades after that particular event. It hurt both of them, and though Athena wished she could claim that it hurt only her, she knew better. Years away from him had given her the freedom she needed to move forward, and leave that entire thing behind her. She knew it wasn’t healthy, knew she should’ve dealt with it.
“No,” she said softly, and turned her attention back to her meal. She wasn’t angry with him, but there was a deep sort of sadness in her voice. She could hardly bring herself to look at him, disappointed in herself and worried about the disappointment she might see in his eyes. He grunted as response and fell silent, returning his attention to his meal. It wasn’t that he took pleasure in her sadness, he really didn’t. Adam was not the type to delight in the pain of others; he may be inclined to be cruel, but he was not malicious, it gave him no joy to see the handiwork of his words and actions unless he felt the pain was justly deserved, and in this case he knew it was not. He knew it, and yet still he’d said the words to re-open the old wounds further, and hadn’t apologized for them after they’d had their intended effect. The urge to attack rather than forgive had always been at the forefront regardless of the situation or wisdom of doing so, and so it was now. He knew it was wrong, but could not take the words back. Would not, pride dictated that even now, even after he’d accepted that it was the wrong course of action, an apology was out of the question. He’d done nothing wrong in the grand scheme of things, he had not been the one who had left in an attempt to flee an unpleasant past, he had not been the one who had caused it in the first place. He would not have faulted her for blaming him for the incident, since it had occurred under his nose and in his house, where she should have been safe from harm, but she did not seem to blame him, and so he did not either, aside from occasionally. So instead he sat and ate as unconcernedly as he could manage, keeping his gaze lowered and while not ignoring her exactly, not offering further response either. The silence that fell between them hurt almost as much as his cutting question and harsh gaze had. There was always that difference between them of how they handled emotions and problems. She could never deny her feelings for Adam. She had loved him when she left, and over the years that love hadn’t faded. As they sat there, though, she wondered if it had changed. She sighed as she finished her bowl and leaned back, taking her wine glass in hand and taking a healthy sip.
“I didn’t handle it right,” Athena admitted quietly, “and I’m sorry for whatever...repercussions came from my actions.” She had almost apologized for causing him pain, but he had never been one to openly admit his emotions. “I can’t excuse them, or change them. I can only go forward.” She fixed him with a meaningful gaze, silently reminding him that the same went for him. Another grunt escaped him, but this one was less rough, more an acknowledgment of her words than a passing of judgment. He chanced a glance her way and caught the look, returning it with a pointed look of his own. “Going forward means learning from the past and leaving it behind, not forgetting it entirely.” He paused a moment before forcing out the rest because he knew it had to be said if they were to ‘go forward’, his reluctance apparent but the words no less sincere for the forced quality. “But I accept your apology.” Athena nodded and offered him a smile, though it wasn’t quite as bright her earlier ones. “Thank you,” was all she said, softly, before taking her dish and his. They went into the sink and she filled them with a bit of soap and some water, letting them soak. “I made enough for you to take home, if you wanted,” she offered, turning back to him. There wasn’t a hint of their previous conversation in her tone or body language, able to compartmentalize it. “Thank you,” he replied, hazarding a smile of his own. “I think I almost burned the apartment down the last time I actually tried to cook something, so. Thanks. ...And for dinner as well.” He was going out of his way to be polite now, his own form of apology for his words since he would never admit to it out loud. “I won’t take up any more of your evening, although I...hope to see you around.” He felt better having said this, not that he would admit it either, and with a last incline of his head that served as a bow, after procuring the leftovers she had mentioned he took his leave. Better to leave things on a not entirely sour note than to stay and risk ruining it completely. As she shut the door behind him, she noted that the evening hadn’t been a complete waste. It had it’s moments, of course, but that was to be expected from Adam. He was still rough around the edges, and that only softened her heart further. She went to bed that night with mixed feelings, thoughts of Adam and Shiloh swirling around her.