who neal & john what neal’s got something to ask john! where a pub without a name (which would be an awesome pub name lbr) when 3/29 evening warnings very PG status complete!
While John had enjoyed his trip to San Francisco with Rose, he was also eager to see his friend upon return. His trip had been long, brilliant, and full of adventure. Still, there was hardly a greater feeling than going home. Well, provided every bit of him thought of Irvine as home. Some days, John felt less like John and more like the Doctor; the OC wouldn’t ever be a home to the man who had destroyed his own for the good of the universe.
Nevertheless, he’d rested and put any troubles behind him to finally go reconnect with Neal. Meeting at the pub (on a Sunday night again, how scandalizing!), he sat at the bar nursing a banana daiquiri (virgin, of course--it was a school night) without a hint of shame. He’d arrived a bit earlier than intended, but his sense of time had become a bit since more of the Time Lord became present.
Better early than woefully late, he supposed.
At the sound of the door opening over the idle bar chatter, quiet given the evening, he spied his friend entering and waved. He looked rather ridiculous. His hair was sticking up more than ever, and he wore that pinstripe suit special to this face. His long coat was draped over the empty seat beside him, and not matching the rest of the ensemble at all were the pair of red trainers Cindy had given him.
He looked like a walking fashion disaster, and a human one at that waving at Neal while sipping on his daiquiri. Whether the Doctor or John Smith, however, one thing would be certain: he was a skinny man of eccentricity.
A daiquiri, huh? The selection made Neal chuckle, gravelly and amused, as he settled next to John - looking somewhat casual, black trousers and a shirt that was pressed, but no tie, and he had a couple buttons undone. Mostly because the weather called for such things, spring had emerged and so he’d pushed the crappiness of fall and winter behind him - besides, he was all finished with his Things for the Day. Sometimes he caught up on work, sometimes he had a lazy Sunday - today had been the former, but he didn’t mind. There was a lot to attend to, and stuff had piled up - it hadn’t stopped just because he’d been in New York.
“How’s it going? How was your trip?” he asked as soon as he’d ordered a beer, something on tap and delicious and foamy in its mug. This pub was good for that - and for the sticky toffee, which Neal would always recommend. There was never a bad time for it.
Particular about his banana-flavored drinks (or anything), he couldn’t help himself. While he didn’t mind a stout drink once in awhile, he much preferred something sweet. He had to be cautious though! Didn’t want to ruin his teeth, that would be a terrible tragedy. Grinning over his glass, he had to lean back in thought over his question.
“Ah, San Francisco! Beautiful city,” he remarked. “Good food, nice weather--bit like London--and Rose was brilliant company. Well, aside from the driving, she’s not much of a morning person, or… being awake in cars sort of person,” John finished with a chuckle. There were some ups and downs as always, but nothing that seemed to deter him on the surface this time.
He was learning from the Doctor how to use that winning smile to hide from the world at large.
“More interested in your trip though! Go on, go on,” he practically bounced in his seat. “Gush some more, gushing’s loads more fun in person, isn’t it?”
Neal’s grin was eye-crinkling, easygoing and casual, that crooked smile that was equal parts charming and reassuring. “Yeah, it’s better in person, though I probably look like more of a dork,” he said, with a bit of self-depreciating humor. But overall he was in a fantastic mood and was beginning to come around to the idea that things were looking up, and becoming brighter after a period of so much gloomy darkness. “Glad to hear you had fun too. I’m a big fan of road trips, personally.” You’d think he wouldn’t be, given his youth that was one big road trip on the run from the law, but he liked them now. It was different.
“But wow, let’s see.” He rubbed his hand over his mouth, thinking. “We saw Ruby’s grandmother, had dinner there - really good, as usual. Like, we’re talking food coma good. Then for my birthday we went to a party on the roof of our old apartment building. All our east coast friends were there, and that’s when I asked her. Garrus and Cindy had gotten us a celebratory dinner at one of the city’s five-star restaurants - “ Where they never would have eaten otherwise, let’s be real, it was amazing but far too expensive, “...so on Sunday we had dinner out and then just went around going to old places and picking up stuff for people. It was fun. No pressure to sightsee or anything, you know?”
Well, he’d be hard-pressed to find any judgment from John in terms of dork levels. He was the one sipping the daiquiri, after all. Appreciating the sentiment as one to which he could relate, he merely chuckled over his straw in response. His mood was infectious, so regardless of whatever disposition John secretly harbored--he was elated for his friend’s good news. There would be a hug along the way, too! He hadn’t forgotten.
“Trips are brilliant,” he agreed. Now if he only had the TARDIS to go gallivanting across the universe for some more--no, no. No. He wouldn’t give in to that whim of the Doctor, not yet. Needless to say, he was more than happy to put his drink down and listen to his friend’s tale. It worked out well, and he intended to make good on paying for his friend’s drink as a matter of congratulations and celebration!
“Had yourself a grand holiday,” he grinned from ear to ear. “Well done, Neal, really. And what better city in the world to propose in than New York?” His mind shot off on several other options, but he had a fondness for the Big Apple. That must have been what drove him to visit it several times over in his day.
"It's a good city to propose in, yeah. Helps that it was…I don't know, special to us. There's a lot of history there – it's where we met and fell in love, but then we broke up, had to go our separate ways," Neal shrugged, not meaning to get into the whole tale of Ruby and Neal: The Courtship, but it was somewhat relevant. "The timing was off, we had to do some changing or whatever. Then we both ended up here in the OC and went through some hell before finally deciding that nothing else was going to get in the way this time."
Sappy story, maybe, and he flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. Luckily, the foamy mug of beer was a good distraction. He took a swig from it, eyebrows poking up inquisitively as he glanced over at John, dark eyes hopeful and warm. "Actually, I kinda wanted to ask you something?" Well, no 'kind of' about it, but whatever. Uncertain as to how to go about this sort of thing, he just assumed that in a pub, the ambiance cozy and not too loud (and over drinks, no less) would be a way that was as good as any.
“That’s what counts, the meaning,” John nodded, appreciating a sentiment. He loved the tales that wove people together. In his heart, he wasn’t that different from the Doctor, what with the wide-eyed wondered he viewed the world. Every story had to be counted. So regardless of popularity or whatever attractions brought in the tourists, any place could be ideal given the right amount of nostalgia.
He’d taken Rose there on their first proper adventure with this face--well, the fifteenth New York in to grace the galaxy, but it came close enough. He wondered if that wasn’t part of what had been driving him to blur the lines of their friendship when he’d surprised her for Valentine’s Day, too.
Before he could give his usual amount of praise, Neal’s expression brought him to a pause. Expectations met, his friend’s nudging toward a question had John’s full attention. Curiosity piqued, he smiled in delight, then clapped his hand against his friend’s arm in an encouraging fashion.
“Well, don’t leave me hanging, hm? What’s on your mind?”
There were probably cards, right? Little 'will you be my groomsman, man?' cutesy things that would, in theory, make Neal want to throw up – over drinks and discussing things like life and love seemed way more appropriate to him. So he just pressed on, hoping that John would want to be a part of his 'special day.' The guy was busy though, and maybe he didn't want to take the time out – he had his professor thing, and lots of other social engagements, and a partner who went out of town for work a lot, so maybe he just couldn't schedule the wedding and all the before-stuff in. Neal would understand. Never know until you put it out there though, right?
"We haven't set a date or anything, but I think it's customary to like, ask people to be in the wedding party well ahead of time?" he grinned sheepishly. "So…I'll need groomsmen. You know, good friends to be there and all that. Was wondering if you were interested." Garrus would be his best man, hopefully, and he also hoped to include Sev in the wedding party as well. Just because they were all with him when he faced hard times, and they'd helped him through. He wanted them to share in his happiness too.
As much as John loved cards from little shops, he loved being asked things in person even more. While he didn’t catch on right away (for such a clever man, he could be slow on the uptake) to Neal’s angle, when he finally realized what he was driving at, John brightened like the sky as the sun clearing the horizon. He’d never been a groomsman before, not as John Smith.
The Doctor had been the groom several times, but had certainly been rubbish at showing up to weddings (especially his own). He remembered many occasions, but none of those would hold him back from laughing in a triumphant, exuberant sort of way.
“Hah! What an honor, really!” He beamed. “The more I dream, the less I find myself naturally understanding people and their customs, but this one--ohhhh, this one. I remember it well, can’t forget it. Very important, and it would be my honor, honestly, to be party to your wedding party, Neal. Brilliant, just brilliant!” Clearly touched to be asked, he raised his glass to his friend. “Cheers, mate!”
John’s reaction was kind of what Neal had been hoping for. The guy just had such an exuberance and zest for life - it was refreshing to see. His dreams must be completely insane, though he didn’t talk about them all that much. At least if he ever spilled more, he’d be in good company because it seemed like most everyone’s dreams were completely insane too. “Yeah, it’s a pretty old custom, dates back to ancient Rome or something,” he grinned, showing those teeth in a flash of a warm, genuine smile. On the bride and groom’s side, they each had people there during the ceremony to protect them from evil spirits or whatever - it was fitting, because the people Neal was asking to stand beside him, he trusted fully.
“I mean, not that I know a ton about planning a wedding but I’m honored you want to be a part of it, so thank you. And cheers,” he raised his mug as well, touching it lightly with a clink to John’s banana daiquiri. “I’ll even buy you another drink now.” To celebrate. Banana all around!
Giving it some thought, the history of groomsmen and all else, John nodded at his friend’s reference. He was such a nut for history, and being privy to the Doctor’s almost infinite wisdom had been one of the few perks of realizing his Gallifreyan roots. “Quite right! Never know when a beastie might come along to snatch up the bride,” he chuckled. “Humans--” He caught himself lapsing and hastily recovered. “We’re an unusual breed.”
It would have been easy for him to carry on about the history of groomsmen and all else, but that would have been the Doctor, not John. Having the reigns on himself, he smiled through the toast, glass clinking against his friend’s happily.
“Oh, it’ll be a blast-y blast, haven’t a doubt! Heard that expression before? I rather like it! Can’t say I enjoyed what else came out of the mouth that utilized it, but that coin a phrase is brilliant! Anyway,” John cleared his throat as though that would absolve him of his topic deviations. “Won’t say no to another tasty banana treat. Hope you’ll have bananas at your wedding party, always take a banana to a party, Neal,” he cautioned, because bananas were serious business. “Bananas are good.”
Yep, eccentricity was John’s thing too, but it was of the endearing variety. They all had a few screws loose, Neal could relate to this. Having his insane, fresh-from-slavery father living inside his head with not enough space shook things up and he probably ever wouldn’t be the same. Basically, he was well-accustomed to the idea of too much where it shouldn’t be.
“I’ll make sure to remember to include bananas,” he promised, and when the second drink arrived he slid it toward his friend. Another beer for Neal, naturally. “Just for you. Oh, and you know - we should all hang out sometime. Maybe check out Knott’s Boysenberry Festival. Me, you, Ruby, and Rose. I don’t think Rose has met her yet, yeah?” It seemed like the two women would get along, they were both the friendly types.
He chuckled again, teasingly adding, “It’d be a blast-y blast.”
That Neal effortlessly humored him and his bizarre behavior was part of what had immediately endeared him to John in the first place. He adored people that were open and lacking judgment of what set everyone apart. John had always put humanity up on a pedestal, but seeing people from Earth through the alien eyes of his dream counterpart had certainly magnified that sense all the more.
“No question you’re one of my favorites,” John snickered, but meant it regardless of jest. “Oh! A Boysenberry Festival! Really? Never been to a Boysenberry Festival, that would be amazing! Rose would love it, no doubt!” Somehow his smile seemed to grow impossibly brighter just by mentioning her. He was so hopeless. “No, don’t suppose she has. Would be a treat! A berry good treat,” added oh-so-very lamely, though sold it (in his head) by pure dedication to a piss-poor pun. He loved puns of all flavors!
Content with his second drink, John took a quick sip before speaking again, “When abouts is it? I’ll have to put it on our calendar. She’s drawn one up, what with the traveling and our mismatched schedules at times.” It was very couple-like, and he hadn’t quite grasped that yet.
Orange County hosted a few great festivals throughout the year - and Neal had never been to the one at Knott’s Berry Farm either, but it seemed like it’d be a fun time. “It started yesterday and runs until April 12th,” he said. “So anytime between now and then, if Rose has some time off work where she’ll be in town.” Obviously she was the one with the quirky schedule, but that was fine, they could all work around it - it’s what you did for friends with jobs that took them to all sorts of places; Neal’s, personally, was more stay-in-one-spot but he was at a point in life now where he needed that.
“It’s got wine and beer, music, and...pretty sure there’s a pie-making thing,” he grinned. And lots of boysenberry-themed goodies, of course. Like boysenberry BBQ sauce, who came up with that brilliance? “So we’d be well-fed.”
Leaning back a bit as he contemplated her schedule, he rifled a hand through his hair. He always managed to make a lanky spectacle of himself one way or another, didn’t matter where he went. The one thing John had managed to retain out of their consolidated calendar was her return dates, as he very much detested parting with her, but always looked forward to when Rose came back home.
“She’s a flight out tomorrow,” he said, scratching his sideburn. “Don’t have her return date on that, though she’s only gone for five days at most. With any luck, we could go next weekend! I’ll ask her tonight.”
Oh, but pie-making! John looked like a kid in a candy store just then. “Now that, Neal, that is a promising festival. As much as I l…” ahem, “...would love to have Rose there, if she can’t make it, I’d have to insist we go in her stead regardless! Pie-making!” Think of all the banana cream pies he could acquire!
The siren's call of pie was hard to deny, this was true. So Neal didn't blame John for wanting to experience it even if his lady had to work. "Sounds good to me, we'll make a day of it regardless," he promised. "Just let me know, after you talk to her. Must be kinda rough having her gone a lot, huh?"
That, he was sympathetic to. But a job was a job and sometimes you needed to take what you could get. There were perks to being a flight attendant but also downsides too. "I saw on the 'net that she was looking around for something else though, so maybe she'll find something where she won't have to jet set so much." It could probably be exhausting too, to be on the go all the time.
"Anyway, there are always positions at the ranch where I work," he offered. John was one of his favorites too and, by extension, Rose.
It was difficult managing without her at times. Now that he had dreamed of their tragic tale together, John found himself dreading her exits all the more--if that were even possible. All that time alone in the apartment became real, a suffocating linear sense of it could drive him to the brink of boredom in minutes. Their microwave was going to suffer the Doctor’s tinkering soon enough for it, but he had plenty to keep himself occupied if he sank back to his human roots.
Drumming his fingers against the glass, he nodded faintly. “I will, and it is. I’d grown accustomed to her being around before she’d gained that job, and now… Well, it’s alright,” he liked to believe he was always alright. He had his family here and a slew of friends, good ones like Neal, Gwen, and Helena to preoccupy his down time. He wasn’t going to complain at all.
Side-eying Neal from over his glass as he nursed the second daiquiri, he gave a drink-smeared smile at the offer. Tidying his mouth up before speaking again, he tried to imagine Rose working at a ranch; his smile became somehow bluer.
“Rose is finding it difficult, I think, to cope with not being completely the girl in her dreams,” he began. “That’s why she can’t find her niche, she’s not going to feel right until she’s back in the TARDIS, which…” He quirked a brow at his friend. “Did I ever tell you I’m a time-traveling alien from a galaxy far, far away? She’s meant to defend the Earth, Rose, not serve people beverages on a plane or coffee in a shop. But, I’ll pass along the ranch bit to her. Perhaps if she keeps changing the scenery, eventually I’ll have my TARDIS.”
And they could run off to see some faraway stars.
Neal knew a thing or two about struggling to find the niche, yeah. In his dreams, he was a criminal for a real long time - he'd never had a home, not really, not until he'd met Emma and she was everything the concept embodied. "Anything I can do to help, if I can," he shrugged. "She doesn't have to dig around in the cow pies or anything, that's what the ranch hands like me are for. But there are more admin things, and it's a place for wayward youth, sure, but also for people who have...extra things? Like from their dreams. Superpowers and such." He'd also seen Rose talking about whatever a TARDIS was, and he hoped it showed up for her eventually - a little adventure never hurt anyone, now and again.
"One day, you two will blast off into space and do your thing. If that's what you were meant to do. Just remember to write occasionally, okay?"
“Remember to write?” He scoffed, but it seemed his humor had returned. “I’d take you for a trip, you and Ruby, no question! Anywhere and any time in the universe, it’s yours, but…” Well, he missed hithe TARDIS, but he also dreaded his ship turning up. It would spell the end of his human life, he thought, and he was terribly attached to being John Smith this time. Much more than when he’d been John Smith with Martha and fallen in love with Joan, much to his companion’s chagrin.
“Anyway, ‘course! Rose would be brilliant anywhere she goes,” he redirected. “Defender of the Earth, any place would be lucky to have her. I’d much prefer she work with you than something government-related,” like bloody Torchwood. “That’s on the agenda for bedtime chitchat with Rose, then! Boysenberries, pie-making, and shamelessly attempting to keep her in the city at all times.”
He’d drink to that!
"We'll see what happens. Take it as it comes." He reached over and clapped John on the shoulder, a reassuring squeeze. They couldn't ever really pinpoint for certain what would happen in Orange County - its mood swings just were too insane for that; the best people could manage was learning to move with it all, rather than predict. "But that all sounds like a plan to me."