2009-10-06: One Coffee, Hold the Awkward

Starring:

Noah_V4icon.pngElena_V4icon.png Benjamin_V4icon.png

Date: October 6, 2009

Summary:

An early morn coffee turns into interesting conversation from people known to tell it like it is.


"One Coffee, Hold the Awkward"

Starbucks of Destiny

She was running.

New York City was nothing like Capitol Hill, gone were the verdant avenues that turned to red-and-gold during the Autumn, gone were the open bodies of water that flanked the country's most famous monuments. She usually spent the early morning hours jogging, through those cobblestoned and cemented walks, keeping some degree of athleticism whenever she could, knowing that she might need it for the days ahead. Her father had instilled upon her in a very early age the value of preparedness, and this was just one of the little things she did that began her daily routine. Clad in a tanktop, a pair of slim-fitting, black yoga pants and sneakers, the ponytailed reporter trotted up and down familiar streets of the much more metropolitan NYC with a hoodie tied around slender hips. It was early enough, at least - around six in the morning, for the morning pollution not to be so overwhelming.

Miles done, she slows, to cool down, jogging falling more into a brisk walk. A hand lifts upward to pull her knuckles against her forehead and dislodge crystalline spheres from her skin. Taking several deep breaths to slow her heartrate, her fingers reach up to brush against her pulse, eyes on her wristwatch as she times the pace of her heart while she walks….

And comes across her old Starbucks.

It doesn't take much coaxing to pull the door open, to slip inside and take in the interior of the place in which she had worked close to three years ago. It's changed, much like certain pieces of her life - the interior decor updated to something more modern, and the smell of almonds and cinammon and pumpkin spice in the air. Did she bring her wallet? The clip carrying her essentials was somewhere in her pocket, secured in the lining to keep it from falling out.

Holding a crisp paper in his hand, a man in suit reads as he drinks a tall black coffee. He didn't want to pay as much as he did for it, but hey, when the need hits, sometimes you can't afford to wait. "You have got to be kidding. That many people in the city, and the Company can't keep a few foolhardy people from running amok." The paper is allowed to drop, the weightiness of it making a slight slap.

As if on cue, he watches…. Elena Gomez walk through the door? He arches a brow for the time being, but doesn't say anything on it. Maybe he's waiting to see if anyone else is coming in with her. Or maybe he's waiting to see if she remembers him. After all, she's part of the Haitian Club, a club that's always larger than people remember.

She looks alone, and no it doesn't appear anyone else is coming in with her, Elena sliding a fiver across the counter and paying for her hot chocolate - working as a barrista for too long had caused her to abandon the black gold (ie. the good stuff) for a while, and that appears not to have changed, though she'll drink it if she needs it. Slipping one of the holders around the white cup, the young reporter turns around to head for a table… and stops in her tracks, bistre-and-gold eyes falling upon…

The Company Man.

Horn-Rimmed Glasses Dude.

Etcetera. Etcetera.

For a moment she doesn't appear to know how to react, shock at seeing him so randomly around the city, stilling her. And so early in the morning. Maybe it's true, what they say. Noah Bennet does not sleep, he waits.

But it's pretty damned obvious that she remembers him.

The look is enough to let him know that she remembers him. And her thoughts on him. Glancing toward the door, he sees no one else coming in. An odd occurrence for the attractive Gomez woman, but if there is one person that understands how time changes people, it's the Company Man.

"Didn't think you were coming back to New York," Noah states with a half beat pause before adding "Miss Gomez". The older man moves his paper to the side of the table, folding it neatly as he does. Clearly, he's expecting her to join him.

"….neither did I," Elena says slowly, watching him put away the paper and look up at her expectantly. Hesitation emanates from her in waves, her shoulders squared and looking every inch…well, she was stubborn. Noah knew that better than most. She glances towards the barrista counter, and the predominantly empty room… no other customers, not so early in the morning. Finally, she makes a decision, walking over towards the chair vacated, setting her cup down and taking a seat directly across him so she could look at the man in the eye.

"Mr. Bennet. I didn't think you Company types got up so early in the morning. Considering most of my encounters with your people turned up during the evenings, I almost convinced myself you were all really vampires." She wouldn't be surprised, at this point, if his employers actually had one working for them. "How's Claire?"

Depending on how you classify Adam, you could say they had. It turned as well as it would have hiring an actual vampire though. Just with less blood sucking and more shooting. "She's well enough," he answers, guarded as always about his special Clairebear. "As for myself? I suppose old habits are hard to break." A weak smile is given as he looks to Elena. As usual, he decides to not beat around the bush. "Take it you've seen Peter already."

"I'm certain they are," the young woman replies, regarding habits. However when Noah goes right for the jugular, her fingers curl over her cup. "Not by choice," Elena replies, taking a quiet sip of her coffee, and glancing out the window, watching the red and gold splashes over the horizon that heralded the sun's own lazy meander upwards, rousing, like most people at this hour, to go to work. "But yes, I did." She doesn't look particularly enthusiastic in discussing that issue, either, but he was asking questions and she answers them honestly. "Something about the Alpha Protocol….new anti-terrorism initiative. Apparently not a lot of people know about it. Save your people." As always.

"Sorry it didn't go as well as you both might have hoped. I know Peter has a hard time letting things go. It's his nature to never give up on people or causes, always give them another chance. It's what makes him a great EMT… It'll make him a horrible agent," Noah replies before he tilts his cup slightly to the side in thought. "So, the rumors about the Protocol were true. Whatta know." The man gives a calm sip, seemingly not doing anything to confirm nor deny his employment… save hints which may or may not be intentional.

"It helped that I wasn't really expecting anything other than…" Conflict. It was the truth, and enough has happened in the last two, almost three years, to lift the shackles from her usually deferential self to something a little less inclined to pussyfoot around the issues presented. Still, Elena seems reluctant to talk about it, focusing, instead, on the little hints and her brows arching over her eyes. "Rumors?" she reiterates, latching on the funny turn of phrase, her gaze level. "Why, what did you hear?"

There is brief amusement on Noah's face as Elena states her thoughts on the matter. Both of them were stubborn, that's for sure. "Stuff from the government here, stuff from old co-workers there. You know how it goes." He sips his coffee again before giving his own question. "So, you planning on staying in New York, or this just a trip to tie up loose ends?"

Old coworkers.

She takes a quiet sip of her coffee. "I thought you'd be in there for life," Elena replies, side-skipping everything else and studiously ignoring the faint glimpse of amusement on his features. "Why'd you leave?" She has made a living out of asking questions for the last almost-year, Noah, sadly, wasn't going to be exempt from it… though there's also the deep-seated knowledge that while she might ask, the man before her might not answer either. It was a lesson she learned early on. "Staying," she says, after a pause. "Probably for a while. My stepmother's here, and so's my stepsister. Friends I've not seen in a while. I don't really have much in terms of loose ends."

Of course, there is always Option C. "Mostly the same reasons Peter joined." Answering the question without answering the question. To her comments on staying, Noah gets a few wrinkles in his brow as he looks the woman straight in the eye for moment or two. "Careful… New York has one of the highest groups of 'special' people around. Likely some ingrain desire to find people similar to themselves or something. In the end, if the fire does come, it'll mean that New York will be affected the most. But do what you want, you always have." With that, he finishes his coffee, setting the empty cup down.

If she were of a different temperament, she could have sworn the man was actually trying to get personal, mentioning the name over and over the way he was. Logic prevails, however - six degrees of separation occurs in life as it does in the movies, when people know someone who know someone who know someone. Elena, in that regard, doesn't bristle, and she blatantly does not ask about what reasons he was implying. However, when he pins her down with that look, she returns his gaze levelly, her fingers curling further into her cup and her nails digging light, little grooves on the cardboard. "If all of you are right about this Alpha Protocol, I was living in DC before I came back, Mr. Bennet. Where these people are making the decisions. Was I going to be safer there? Anywhere? I know you're…" There is a pause, and she sighs. "I know you're only doling out sound advice. You're a veteran, anyone who even says you don't know what you're talking about is dumb. But if this thing is federal, there'll be nowhere left to run. At least, here in the United States."

As usual, if there is a reason why he brings up Peter's name, he doesn't say it. "An organization has to have a plan. If they want to round people up, they will go where they get the most boom for their buck. Even if they had unlimited money, the issue would come from how many trained personnel you have, how swiftly can you sweep." Noah looks back to the counter for a moment, debating getting another coffee. He decides against it for now, remaining right where he is. "It doesn't matter who is doing the hunting, the rules of the hunter rarely change much. It's why the Company only went after people that were dangerous or deemed useful."

The look she gives him across the table is the flattest one she could muster. "While the rest are monitored like cattle or chipped like endangered whales," Elena retorts plainly. Only went after those who were dangerous or useful, her butt, naivete stripped to the bone after too many kidnappings, brainwashings, and things exploding. She takes a deep breath. These issues were old, historical, and she lets it go for the time being. "I heard things changed. Is that true?" The words regarding the rules of the hunt, however, she listens to intently, rolling her cup in between her palms. "So what's your take? Pull an ostrich? Disappear?"

"You really are in a pissy mood," Noah replies without a hint of a smile. He pushes the cup of coffee toward Elena. There we go, he'll just get her to get it for him. "Even the Company and the Government worked together to try and catalog every person with powers, it would be impossible. The nature of changing powers, the growing numbers… Trust me, Miss Gomez, if we…" There is a short pause before Noah corrects himself, "..They could do what you thought the Company could do, there wouldn't be the accidental deaths or injury that comes with most powers making themselves known. In the end, there is no perfect. You just do the best that you can." There is a long pause as Noah looks toward Elena. "You don't want my advice if you want the safest route."

"Jetlag," Elena replies back without skipping a beat, just as humorless as the reply Noah tosses back at her. Endorphins are seriously failing her today, after a run like she had, she should be happy, relishing in the fatigue and the dull ache, the sear of lactic acid under muscles that should, by all rights, herald a satisfying sort of soreness the next day. But the propaganda, because that's what it was, irritated her, because she knew better, because she knew a guy in California trying to live a normal life despite getting bag-and-tagged…though to her credit it's not as bad as it could be, especially after everything, the fact that Noah had left the organization might be more of a mollifying factor than people expect. Still, while his following words soften the tense lines of her face, she's also pushing back the coffee cup towards his direction. "I'd like to hear it anyway," she tells him. "I'm not a kid anymore. Do your worst."

Taking a quick break from work, Benjamin walks the short hike from the office to Starbucks. (And really, aren't most Starbucks within walking distance?) He pushes the door open and walks into the place. Just simply out of reflex these days, he looks around the room and doubletakes. There's his old boss, and… Elena Gomez. He hasn't seen her, or her father in some time, and thinking of Ramon, he glances around the room fervently, as if expecting a right hook to come from the one-eyed Mexican.

Somewhere, in BenLand, Ramon Gomez goes FLYING out of the back room, dressed in a mask and cape. "BENJAMIN WINTERS!" he roars, Nacho-Libre-ing the hapless agent over the barrista counter.

"Join the Company, they protect their own," HRG replies, unknowing of the horrible mental images Ben gets by being in here. He holds up a hand to silence Elena's response, turning his attention toward Benjamin. He doesn't say anything to the Agent, merely watching and waiting, as if expecting another Agent to walk in shortly there after.

Join the Company.

To her credit, she doesn't throw something at him at his suggestion. Even now she's a very logical person, quelling down whatever temper her hot blooded self can call out. She did, after all, ask him to do his worst - and that's about as worst it could get when the man has made a living out of reading people as well and as accurately as he does. When Noah lifts his hand to silence her, Elena can't help but turn around… to see Benjamin. For the second time today, she doesn't know how to react, save for the slight rounding of her eyes, surprise etched within the sharded irises.

Benjamin Winters.

Father's friend turned Kidnapper Winters.

Her eyes lower on him, the glint of the new wedding ring catching the light.

MARRIED, Father's friend turned Kidnapper Winters.

Benjamin straightens out his tie and nods his head towards Noah. He's alone, although he shouldn't be. This must not be a business trip into the coffeeshop. At the look from Elena, he doesn't outright flinch, thanks to the 'reprogramming' he got. Still, what man doesn't exactly cower at that kind of look? He holds up both his hands in a sort of universal gesture of surrender. Not wanting to announce past business in front of the whole shop, he approaches the pair, "I'm just here to get coffee." Awkwaaaaard.

Maybe if you got him coffee, Elena, Noah wouldn't have said that. Okay, maybe he would have, but it's a nice thought. "Then get coffee. Get me a cup too." The matter of fact reply from Noah comes as he hands the cup he tried to get Elena to take to Ben. "You know how I like it. Thanks, Ben." He doesn't even work at the Company anymore and he's still bossing Ben around. Just so wrong.

"Mr. Winters." It is a greeting. Polite. Perfunctory. It is a far cry, however, from the bright smiles she used to give him, and the way she fussed over him whenever he would join the family for dinner while they were living in the same apartment complex. It felt like a lifetime ago, a different life, a different person. Older now, half a year past 21 years of age, Elena regards Benjamin neutrally, but she says little else. She isn't tense, however, so it's a safe bet she won't go flying out of her chair to throttle him in a fit of that infamous Gomez temper. "It's been a while."

Benjamin eyes Noah, then the cup. /Briefly/, he thinks about reaching for that cup. Then, he turns his back on Noah. Bennet is no longer his boss, and he's not the coffee fetching 'intern'. He looks at Elena and smiles at her. It would be a warm one, if it completely met his eyes. "It has been, how have you been?," he asks pleasantly of the young woman.

Noah doesn't seem to mind the cup being temporarily refused. It rests on the edge of the table. In case, Benjamin reconsiders the offer. Other than that, he remains completely silent.

"Intact." She meant to say fine, but Elena is honest, and while things aren't necessarily 'fine,' she is, however, intact, and at present it is the most truthful answer she could give him - especially after smiling at her the way her was doing. She takes another sip of her coffee. "How's Rose?"

She glances at the empty cup, and rolls her head back to sigh. She lifts a hand to signal the barrista behind the counter, to gesture at Noah's empty cup. Someone will refill it. It just won't be her.

Of course, this kind of kills Noah's fun.

"I suppose that could be said for most of us too." Intact, it's a succinct and apt description. Benjamin looks at Elena, "You look good.. Rose is doing good. She's got her own place and is still in school." He pauses here and looks between the two and backs up a step. "I'll just move on, and let you two get back to what you were doing." A look is cast at Noah, "Retirement seems to be suiting you well, Mr. Bennet." He looks back to Elena, "All unpleasant things aside, it's nice seeing you again." Not bothering with getting the coffee he initially came in for, he leaves the shop. There's just a bit too much awkwardness!

Fun? Fun would be hanging out with his daughter, his son, and/or his wife. Then on the other side of the moral spectrum, watching Sylar die slowly and once and for all would ALSO be considered fun or at the least gratifying.

This is just a simple test. As usual with Noah, he turns the simple into the complex, their reactions already speaking volumes. Elena is upset, but not necessary at him. She doesn't think highly of Noah, only respecting him for what he knows considering she refused to do him the favor, but still sought out his insight and wisdom. Ben's character is also revealed. He looks toward the cup, considering the motion. His old habits remain true, but they are being systematically being routed out by the man himself. Soon, Ben will be the agent Noah always thought he could be Just not in the manner that he thought he would.

Of course, his coffee is still not refilled, which was just a perk of the test. So… The cup gets shuffled back to Elena. Even though he knows it may be in vain. In a faintly mocking tone of a father speaking to his wife, "So, looks like our little accountant is finally growing into a man."

Or it could have been simply the fact that he didn't actually ask her, politely.

Elena watches Benjamin leave from where she sits, her expression unreadable, and despite herself, the area around the eyes bespeaks much of regret and certain things unresolved. Her father had very few friends - many who respected him, but those who he calls cumpaneros are very few. It is only in this expression that a silent toast is made to what had been, grieving, in her own way, of how things are now. Maybe later, again, things will change. Whether for better or worse, however, is still up in the air.

She glances over at Noah, her brows ticking upwards at what he says. "Maybe. I wonder if he's still a good one." Her tone, by contrast, isn't mocking - it is a frank statement, laced with the undercurrents of something else that lent towards the softer side of the emotional spectrum. She watches the cup shuffled back to her, a glance cast in his direction, before she picks it up….and fiddles with it.

"I can see why you'd give me that kind of advice," she tells him, finally addressing what came before. "It's smart. It's calculating. It's convenient. I think I'll take my chances, though. You're right in that I wouldn't like it, but…" She pauses. "Thank you for telling me all the same."

Noah listens with the usual demeanor, though as she describes the advice, he is silent for a time, seemingly lost in own thoughts. "It's fine," Noah states, his tone a little more distant before snapping back to full reality a second later. "Hard to say on Ben. He had a powerful gift and but a horrible poker face. A bad combination to go into the Company with."

"Same thing has been said about me, so if anything, that tells me I shouldn't," Elena replies matter-of-factly, though she isn't quite certain whether Noah had actually read her file - she knew there was one, in the Company. Peter had shown her a copy once, along with the orders to have her memories wiped one by one if Peter didn't comply with the Company's demands while she was being held. She sets her own empty cup next to his. "I better get going, though. Thanks for the chat." She starts to stand up, untying the hoodie from around her waist to pull over her shoulders.

"Difference between you and him was that you had more friends. Being in with the Founder's son had a big part of it. You might hate the Company and be mad at Peter, but you still reaped the benefits. Just remember that while things change, it never hurts to play it smart." Noah gets up as well, before he looks toward Elena in the eye. "Just don't lose yourself in the process… That's the best advice I can get. Don't be too moral to be stupid, but at the same hand, what's right isn't always what's best." With that, he looks to his phone, seeing that it's his wife. He lets it ring for now, deciding he can talk her later. She's always there. "…See you around." And with that, HRG make his way out the door.

"The benefits of what?" Elena counters, crossing her arms over her chest and angling her head at him. "Kidnapped, used as bait, infected with a virus that they manufactured? Wiped? Threatened to get wiped? They didn't exactly leave me alone, Mr. Bennet, even when I started pulling away from active involvement in….whatever. Despite being with…" Again. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, digging deeper, using whatever insight she has to see what he means, why he said the way he does. Interactions with Noah were always layered, like peeling an onion to find what truly lies within the core. Perhaps the benefits were that she hadn't been killed, bunkered forever, never to be seen again, or perhaps wiped. It may very well be the benefits have been in that it could've been much worse.

But that only illustrated her overall point.

The rest of the advice is listened to, quiet, and once it's over, Elena watches him leave.

Don't lose yourself in the process of playing it smart.

Deep down she wonders whether it was, in actuality, too late for that.

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