itinere | Open | Well, isn't this just fine and dandy.

Derek is in search of something for the killer headache that keeps plaguing him in varying degrees, sometimes it's manageable and sometimes it's so not okay. So he shut down the rec center early and took a quick shower before heading out. Jeans, t-shirt, boots and sunglasses. Derek is walking through the streets hoping that he finds a pharmacy before he gets to the hospital. Or maybe Itinere will magically give him some excedrin like it gave him so many other things.

That's when he sees Venus.

He'd been avoiding her on purpose. Everything he had done? It hadn't been right. And he still couldn't explain how obsessed he had been. Something here had messed with him. Except he was so very confused about how or how he had felt or how he still felt. For a moment he thought about turning around and going the other way. But bottom line, he owed her an apology.

So he approached. "Hey." He said, gesturing to the bench. "Mind if I sit?" See how he isn't immediately trying to get up in your space and touch and trap? He's better now, Venus. Less stalker, more completely humiliated in every way.

Excuse Venus, Derek, if she doesn't jump into your finely sculpted pectorals. She finishes blowing her nose while eyeing him warily. "The bench belongs to the city, I do believe," she notes. Though she has half a mind to tell him if he is here to tell her that it was real and fun, but not real fun? Well, he needn't sit for that.

Well, he guessed he deserved that less than warm reception after how he had gone after her. And maybe it was for the better this way, better that he keep his distance for now, maybe forever. So rather than sit on the bench with her, he stays where he is. Out of respect for her personal space and his own sanity, he leans back against the pole of a street lamp and crosses his arms over his chest. He shakes his head and looks sideways out over the nearby park.

"Look, I hardly know you. And I don't know what happened to me or why..." Although he had heard that such things had been running rampant throughout the city for awhile. It pissed him off, really. Someone could have gotten very hurt. Derek knew all too well how far obsession could take a person.

He's glad for the dark shade of his sunglasses when he looks back at Venus. Because in his memory, what he had felt for her was very real. That just confused him more. He had no idea how to feel about that, how to equate it with who he was really, without all of that intensity. He was so embarrassed and so confused and his sunglasses hid however much of that might show through in his eyes. "Whatever it was, I owe you an apology. I don't know how things got so out of hand. But they did and... I have no excuse. Just an apology. I'm sorry."

As he speaks, Venus watches him, watches his posture, the way he speaks, the pauses between words, all of that. How she wishes she could see his eyes.

When he's done, there's a pause, but not an indignant one, just thoughtful.

"Derek," she finally says and she pats the bench next to her. "Sit down, please. I think that will work better for us to talk, don't you?"

Of course, in the meantime, she has to sneeze, excuse her; she wipes her nose before going on. "I appreciate your apology. I accept it and while I cannot claim that I understand, let us say that I'm not entirely ignorant of my more ... attractive features."

The self-deprecation there is more than clear, especially to someone who looks.

"I hope you will understand that it is difficult to reconcile the very ardency with which you pursued me, with the icy silence that then followed."

Her offer to sit seems more sincere than moments before. Still, Derek is hesitant. He doesn't want to make her uncomfortable. And his own thoughts and feelings on the last month or so are still such a jumble. He doesn't even know where to start with ironing them out to where they make some kind of sense that he can understand.

But as she continues to speak, after that sneeze, Derek moves to sit on the bench with her. He sits, leaning back into the corner of the bench with one arm draped over the back without touching her, trying to look relaxed, like he isn't a mess. He pulls it off well enough. But as for looking at her, Derek reads that self-depreciation pretty well. Reading people is his job, after all. Or it was. She'd probably be unnerved by how well he read her if she knew.

Again, that was just it. They didn't know each other. Derek had been obsessed over her, a physical yearning that he had felt deep into his bones. But she probably wouldn't like him if she knew him.

"You must be talkin' about those high cheek bones and that sway and swag you've got when you walk from here to there." He tries to flip that self-depreciation around. A tiny bit of flirtation followed by a slight grin. Derek always tries to make people feel better or feel good where he can. But he can't help the way his gaze dips down to her chest and strains to keep from going lower. He had touched every inch of her. Again, thankful for the sunglasses.

He sobers completely when she mentions the last week or so where whatever had happened to him had worn off, where he had felt a loss so deep as if he had truly lost someone he loved, where he hadn't really known which way was up anymore. Even now, the world felt a little off its axis. Like things weren't as they should be. Like nothing was right. "I understand. Everything's... confusing. I mean hopefully we'll get to where somethin' makes sense. I've just been..." He shakes his head. "The ground hasn't felt very steady. And I don't know what to do about that."

Derek pauses, looking up at the sky, his eyes squinting in spite of the sun glasses. "I'm gonna figure it out though, eventually. And you... I know I got scary there for awhile. I figured you wouldn't want me anywhere near you. So I stayed away." Mourned his loss on his own. It had been real. It still felt real even if it also felt like a dream, someone else... he couldn't explain it.

Venus does have sway and swag - she knows that. She also knows she is a freak. And some men like freaks for a while. Some even think they want a freak. But the fantasy of one and the reality, Venus knows all to well, are very different creatures. A woman with a cock is a hard thing to love.

Not that the effort goes unappreciated; she offers her own small smile back, just as another sneeze overtakes her and she pauses to blow her nose; not very ladylike, but it has to be done.

"I'm not sure," she says, finally, "what it is you would like me to say, Derek." Her expression turns gentle with some sadness tinging at the edges. "But I suppose I can ask a question: what is it that you want from me? If you are feelin' that your head is clearer, well ... I must admit that I do not know where I fit in that idea of making sense."

Derek could live on the wild side, sure. And he had many times before. But he had never been quite so wild as he had been by being with the woman he was now sitting next to while trying to play it very cool. For very obvious reasons, she was different than anyone he had ever had sex with, different than anyone he had ever had feelings for. And those feelings were still simmering fresh and real and he had no idea what to do with them or how to proceed.

Of course she didn't know what to say. Neither did he. He felt like he was rambling and rambling all around the emotions that were so complicated and hoping he came out of it with some kind of clarity that would tell him what to say or how to act. Normally, Derek was always confident, always knew what he wanted and what to do. And if he didn't know, he faked it. This was a whole new playing field though.

Even the tone of her voice now, so sweet but laced with a sadness that he hated that she felt, that he had anything to do with, even now he feels like his heart in his chest is twisted and raw. He wanted to reach out to her but knew he shouldn't. He had loved her so fully. It was real. It had been. It is. Could you love someone you didn't know? No. Yes. Maybe. He didn't know.

Bottom line. "Maybe we could get to know each other. I'd like to get to know you."

"I have to say that you know me, in the Biblical sense, much better than most," Venus tells him, a tired joke as she leans an elbow on the back of the bench, resting her chin in her hand. "But isn't that the twist of it? You are a handsome, virile and noble man." At least she's had glimpses of that. "And I am ... Well." She waves a hand over her body. "I am not a box that many men like you like to keep open. The lid is best left shut on this, lest the freak bits come out."

This isn't her feeling sorry for herself, you see. She is merely trying to cut a dead-end road off at the pass. Because maybe, despite all the strangeness that seemed to exist in the time they were together, there had been something real there. And the real could be quite terrifying at times.

His fingertips were grazing her elbow without his even realizing it at first. His arm was draped over the back of the bench, her elbow was suddenly right there within reach where he just had to stretch his fingers the tiniest bit, and it was happening. "We're all freaks, gorgeous. Anyone who says they don't get freaky now and then are lying to themselves."

Then he realized his fingers were drawing circles on her elbow and he curled his hand into a fist, bending his elbow to bring his hand away. "The Biblical sense was... I've never been with..." He grins finally, a low rumbling chuckle escaping him. His skin felt flushed with heat. "It felt good. Really good."

He swallows hard. "There's more than that though. Don't you wanna know me?" It was suddenly occurring to him that maybe she didn't, maybe he had really felt all these things and was so damn confused on his own. Derek did not like being out on a limb on his own. He didn't like the feeling of it. And the hilarious thing was, he had never let himself get close enough to someone to love them. He had never let anyone really know him. But with the lingering emotions of the last few weeks, here he was worried that someone didnn't want to really know him.

Why did he have to touch her like that? Say things like that? Smile like that? Because a smile made it easy to dismiss what he's saying. It makes it easier for her to take him less seriously.

Because if she takes him seriously, she might just lose herself. And if Venus loses herself in someone who - their time aside - seems to so clearly have his life together, then well, that cannot end well, can it? And perhaps she's just as eager to be loved too - is that so wrong to be loved?

"What is it that you mean when you say 'get to know you,' mmm?" she asks, waggling a finger at him, her face - and her heart - somewhere between hope and humor and wanting to chastise the foolish boy. "Explain those words to me, please."

Derek did have his life together. But that wasn't always the case. He had fought so damn hard to get to where he was now, to be better, to be stronger, to be in control when for so long he had been so out of control. The truth was, Derek could get exhausted by the maintenance that his hard fought and earned and carefully cultivated image required.

"I mean..." A corner of his lips almost pulls into another smile at that waggling finger of hers. But he doesn't quite get there. "I mean I'm a person. You're a person. Layers. There's more than sex to a person. To you and me. I wanna know who you are, Venus. I wanna get to know you beyond the superficial. And I know that's gonna take time."

He looks away again, adjusting his sunglasses and then leaning forward away from the corner of the bench. He rests his elbows on his knees. "And I also understand that you might not wanna get to know me. And that's okay. I get it. Somethin' in this place made me crazy for awhile. And I'm... complicated sometimes. When it comes to dating."

Dating.

Venus had to smile, shaking her head. "Honey," she says, again, not cruelly, but with a gentle kind of incredulity. "You know, don't you, that I'm not someone a boy dates."

Oh, but since she was a high-schooler going by Vincent with an overwhelming and cruel mother, how she had wanted just that very thing.

The exoticness of the ordinary. It takes Venus back, making her just want with a kind of ache that seeps into one's bones.

"Do you really ... Derek ... " she has to clear her throat. "Do you really want to date ... me?"

The way she initially responds to him, he's pretty sure that she's telling him that no she does not want to date him. He had never in his life felt so inept in interacting with a woman. Usually it was all too easy to turn on the charm, put on his show of tough, charming guy and get a good time out of it. Right now, he was flailing in a way he never had before.

And he couldn't help the way the residue of love left in his heart made his chest ache when he felt rejection from her.

He looked down at the sidewalk beneath his feet. Maybe he needed to tone it back even more. Maybe he was still coming on to strong even though it felt like he wasn't doing enough. Anything to keep her from saying a flat out no to him.

"How about coffee?" Was that better? He looks over to her through the shade of his sunglasses. "One step at a time. Coffee sounds good, doesn't it? You and me? Conversation and caffeine?"

Well, she's give him one thing: he's determined. And really, there's no reason not to go. She never felt endangered by him.

"Throw in a scone," she finally says, a smile on her lips that doesn't quite make it to her eyes - she's waiting for the other shoe to drop, the one with a stiletto heel that has an obscenity that starts with an F on it and ends in "you."

"And you've got a deal."

"You got it, pretty girl." Relief flooded him. Derek exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. She could have said no. He'd given her an out. And he realized she had given him an out too. Neither of them had taken it. That had to say something, didn't it?

He stood up an held out a hand to her that she could take or not. He wouldn't be offended if she didn't. It might sting a little but that's okay. He could handle sting if she was willing to still hang out with him. Coffee was just coffee. No label on it like date or anything else that could make either of them uncomfortable. Hopefully he was on the right track now.

Her heels arere high enough that she did appreciate the help and takes his hand to get to her feet, letting go after that. Just as she's about to wriggle her skirt down her hips, she sneezes again, handkerchief over her mouth; she staggers a little with the force of it.

Lord. This cold just isn't going away. It's just a cold, she thinks, not relating it to that strange message they'd all gotten.

"Excuse me," she murmurs, wiping her nose again. "Perhaps I'll have tea."

She takes his hand and he's glad for about as long as it takes for her to let go again. No, he can be happy with what he got. But then she sneezes again and staggers and he reaches out to put a hand at the small of her back while they start walking.

"Wait what's this goin' on up in here?" He waves a finger around the nose area. "You sick?" He too remembers that strange message from some woman named Brig.

"It's just a cold," she says, waving her non-handkerchief'd hand. "Allergies, perhaps." It isn't something that concerns her. It just makes her head feel muddled.

"Are you having second thoughts of taking me to coffee, Derek? Because I have a bit of a cold? Trust me," she says as she starts to talk. "It takes more than a cold to take me down."

For a few moments he looks at her in concern, a nitch in his brows that's barely visible above the line of his sunglasses. He has this sinking feeling that her allergies and his headache have something to do with whatever is happening in the city right now. That worries him, of course, having just come off of the affect of something else that had been the city's doing.

"Nah. Just..." He shakes his head. "Maybe you should go home and lay down. I could bring you some chicken noodle soup, orange juice, stuff to get you feelin' better."

This is Venus turning to give him a look over her shoulder.

That sounds ... wonderful, really. Marvelous. She's so worn out by this blasted cold that there's a moment when tears nearly come to her eyes at the offer. She was on her way home when she'd paused at this bench for a respite. " ... I'll be fine, I'm sure."

"Look. I know you'll eventually be fine. But let me do somethin' to help you feel better now." Derek says, stopping on the sidewalk with a hand at her elbow to let her know he had stopped walking so that he could talk to her.

"I know where you live. You go home, get comfortable, lay down. I'll be there in twenty minutes or so with a care package. Easy." He lays out the plan for her. He isn't so insistent that he sounds like he's giving her an order, he's just giving her an alternative plan.

"You realize that's what stranger-danger denizens say," Venus teases, clearly meaning no harm by it, tired, though and worn down. "'I know where you live.'"

She sneezes again - a blast of four in a row and it's clear that she cannot argue with his point that she needs to lie down. "... all right." Squeezing Derek's arm, she says, "thank you, Derek." And she starts the slow walk toward her home.

He smirks at her teasing. And he's glad that it's clear that she's teasing him because that was too close to what he had been the last few weeks. Stranger danger. When she finally concedes after another bout of sneezing, he's relieved. She really should be lying down. He nods and watches her walk off with some of that sway and swag he had mentioned earlier.

Finally, he goes off to get a few things. It takes just a little bit longer than the twenty minutes he said it would. It's just over half an hour later when he knocks on her door and then twists the knob to let himself inside.

"Hey it's me, gorgeous." He calls out to let her know she didn't have a stranger in her apartment. Then he locks the door. "Don't get up. I'll find my way around." He goes straight to the kitchen with his bags.

Venus has stripped off her heels (such blessed relief) and her dress, replacing it with a robe. She's pulled her hair up off her neck and has made a nest for herself on her sofa. She still feels quite terrible actually and is too fatigued and sick to object to being called gorgeous, because she is far from in this moment in time.

Her little apartment is nothing special, but it doesn't need to be. "In here," she says of her living room, her voice sounding stifled and sniffly.

In the kitchen, Derek finds a mug and puts it, filled with water, into the microwave. While that's heating, he finds a bowl and empties a can of chicken noodle soup into the bowl. "They were out of chicken noodles so I went with chicken and stars. Pretty much the same thing anyway. Tastes the same."

The microwave beeped and he swapped out the mug for the bowl. With the mug out, he drops a tea bag of chamomile tea in it. His mom had always found that one soothing, at least. "Got some OJ in the fridge for you. Vitamin C."

And then he finally appears in the living room with a steaming mug he sets on the coffee table, a box of kleenex with aloe in it for her nose which he also sets on the coffee table, a box of sinus medicine and THIS stuffed lion. He holds the doll out with a grin and wiggles it back and forth. "For you. Too good to pass up."

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