{I’ve had my share of s a n d kicked into my face} Rod

He told himself he was mostly in it for the food as he made his way to the deli. Mostly. There was also a great deal of morbid curiosity. As a rule Ben didn’t really ... let certain things bother him. Wizards morality wasn’t his to judge exactly. He went by his own set of personal codes and ethics, and no one else’s. It helped, of course, that he didn't feel any external pressure to lean any way in particular. His father had a strong sense of 'do what you want and don't let others wants leads yours' and he'd taken that greatly to heart. What he wanted for himself centered around being his own man, following his own wants and desires.

That wasn’t to say that he wasn’t peripherally aware of the type of reputation the snakes had. And the list of those who contributed to that very reputation. Still he had a healthy respect for ... presenting a united front, sort of speak. At least while at Hogwarts. The weak tended to be picked apart rather quickly and it was easier to close rank than to let those he felt partially responsible suffer. It didn't really extend to outside the castle usually but, well, a part of him was still used to looking out for Macnair in some small way.

Squabbles should stay in-house. Not that he condoned anything, really. He liked to straddle that line, he figured. Still. Rod wasn't really at Hogwarts anymore. The tall Slytherin was curious to see if he was, well, just how he was doing he supposed. A sandwich sounded good, though. That was his primary excuse. And he really should see how his cousin was doing because he felt sort of guilty he hadn't lately.

Even raging lunatics needed socialization. 

He straightened out, his wingspan impressive, as he walked through the threshold. He instantly spotted the food selection, but he still hovered over the door like a cornered animal feeling oddly self-conscious about his decision to be here. His gaze swept over the shop again, trying to find a specific face amongst the crowd, before manning up and stepping in fully. Where was he anyway?

@Roderick Macnair

It was the tail end rush, as expected during this time of year - just after New Years, before Ministry and Hogwarts went back to work and school respectively. The booths were full throughout the diner, a sort of line, kind of crowd snaking out the door onto the streets of London. Roderick had been pulled off of pizza duty - the only back of house thing he was allowed to do still, though he was being trained on the fryer - to comb through the line, trying to find single diners or pairs to sit at the much faster moving bar.

It was irritating, being so close to all of the families and their whiny children as they sweated in their winter coats. Even with the crowd diminishing, Roderick was still on front of house, forcing himself to not glower at each departing group through the front door.

The bell jangled, again. Roderick rolled his eyes, not looking up from the seating chart in front of him at first. "How many?" he asked brusquely, brushing off some fluff from the front of his button down. He looked up, eyes widening slightly in surprise at the lone diner. He blinked, then Roderick spoke to his former classmate - "There's a seat at the bar." He jabbed a thumb over her shoulder at the empty vinyl stool. "Go before it's gone."

Ah, yea. He'd recognize that brusque voice anywhere. He glanced at the stool in question, briefly wondering if he should just linger, before nodding and making his way towards the stool. "Nice to see you too, Roderick." he said, lips curling up into a smirk before he shook his head. He shook off his coat before sliding into the proffered seat. He had a vague reason for being here, one he didn't quite understand himself, and so he felt oddly off-kilter as to both his purpose and what outcome he was looking for. He told himself that this didn't need to be anything more than him checking to see how Roderick was doing. The older wizard didn't even need to interact with him, really, for him to have accomplished that goal and so it didn't really matter if he was summarily ignored or not. 

The Slytherin drummed his fingers against the tabletop lightly as he gathered his thoughts. He might as well order something, he supposed, but couldn't quite rip his gaze away from Macnair, subtly studying the older boy and cataloguing any differences he could see since he'd graduated. He looked alright, at least superficially, so there was nothing to really detect on the surface of things. So often though the surface of things were never the reality though in this case he really hoped it was. It was strange sometimes, how he felt these sort of impulses, then felt the need to act on them. He felt a vague sense of responsibility for his housemates though he couldn't pinpoint why that was other than the fact he felt that they were unfairly, but sometimes reasonably, targeted by the rest of the houses. At any rate he shouldn't feel very badly about Roderick in general and somehow here he was. Curious and ... worried wasn't really the right word for it. Maybe interested in how he was doing? Testing the waters?

He truly wasn't sure.

At some point it would need to stop - rattling him so, running into housemates and classmates and former friends and enemies. Wizarding Britain truly was just a large hamlet. Even nearly a year out of school and Roderick was still running into people he knew everywhere. Clementine Russel. Chloe West. Kay - alright, maybe it didn't count when Roderick actually sought them out.

Still. Everyone in Wizarding Britain went to school together or knew someone who was in school with you or was friends with your parents. Or enemies. It wasn't odd to run into an acquaintance in the coffee room at St. Mungo's when Roderick was shadowing there, or see a Healer off shift in Frank's during a late night. He was taking it more in stride now than in the summer, but.

But.

Roderick gestured a squalling child and his beleaguered parents to a booth with a distracted wave, glancing over his shoulder at Ben at the bar. He had seemed so.... lost, walking in the door. Roderick's eyes narrowed. He wasn't even looking at his menu, for Merlin's sake. And Nice to see you? Roderick couldn't recall being particularly awful to Danvers, but certainly they weren't close. Hadn't Danvers given him a wide berth last February? Hadn't Roderick seen him whispering?

When Mel came to relieve him at the front, Roderick was grinding his teeth together in irritation already. He had a fifteen, now - and the seat next to Ben had opened up. Roderick glanced at the clock on the far wall. Well, he didn't have to piss, and he wasn't hungry.

Roderick slid into the vinyl seat on Ben's left, glancing at the bar in front of him. "Coffee," he said to the server working the bar. He stared straight ahead, not looking at Ben. "Right, you here to gawk at me, or to eat something? Because if you aren't eating, you ought to give up the seat."

He'd forgotten how... abrupt Roderick could be. Abrasive fit better, sometimes, only he wasn't being particularly fowl or anything. He observed the other wizard slide into his seat quietly, pondering if he should say something or not now that he was close enough to converse with before the choice was taken out of his hands. "Two things can be true." he quipped dryly, rolling his eyes, as he finally found his footing. He wasn't gawking, thank you. That seemed, well, rather rude. As a rule Ben tried to stay out of conflict generally. He liked to toe the line most of the time and that meant creating a wide birth surrounding his more... outspoken classmates.

Yet. Here he was.

"Whats good here?" he asked instead of saying 'how are you?' like he really wanted. Roderick seemed prickly and so he figured asking how he was outright might earn him a greater portion of his ire. He did shift his gaze away to look at the menu, though, just to give himself something to do. It felt weirdly like sitting in the great hall together, almost, since he was ordering something instead of just shoveling food into his mouth as things materialized around him. He was hungry enough to eat something though not in such a rush that he felt the need to rush through ordering just because. The ambiance seemed alright, though it was hard to tell what Roderick thought of working here without asking him outright.

Part of him was wary about asking him anything outright.

He suspected part of why he felt compelled to be here was because he couldn't quite shake off how the other wizard had been treated. He had deserved most of it, considering, but he couldn't shake off that Macnair wasn't much older than him. It seemed wrong, somehow, to just blame it on him being psychotic and washing his hands of him when... well. His reasoning wasn't something he wanted to delve too deeply into at the moment.

Roderick snorted. Of course. Danvers didn't even have the guts to deny it. Was it fun for them? Watching Roderick Macnair have to act subservient? Watching the working poor at work? Danvers and his wine fortune. The younger wizard would probably never have to work a day in his life, if he didn't want to.

They were cousins, distantly, on their mother's side. Roderick once again found himself cursing his luck, to be born to the one poor Layton. All of his cousins waltzing around in new robes, with new Ollivander's wands at age eleven, in houses with enough bedrooms for every child and pipes that weren't constantly bursting. Their fathers were scumbags too - the only difference was the damned money.

What's good here? Roderick's eyebrow quirked up. That wasn't the attitude of someone who was here to eat. "Pizza's good. Big slices," he hazarded. "The New York sandwiches, too." He didn't point them out on the menu, choosing instead to drum his fingers on the greasy countertop. Griffin slid the cup of coffee across the bar, black and steaming. Roderick took a sip, staring at Benjamin with furrowed brows.

What the fuck was this, then? "Why're you in London, then?" and this far from Diagon Alley? It would be odd to be shopping after Christmas and New Years', and Roderick really doubted Benjamin was here just for lunch.

Ben didn't make it a habit of offering up information unless explicitly asked. Even then, though, he always tried to measure his words best he could. It wasn't in him to offer something for nothing. It didn't really occur to Ben that Roderick needed this job, though, simply because that wasn't a reality Ben bothered himself with. He knew, in a vague sort of sense, that a lot of people were not as well off as he was. But he didn't really know how big of a gap that could be for some people. Or how little some people had, period. His father wasn't a braggart and he believed in working hard. His mother... less so. He figured that had a lot to do with her being a Layton, though. Still he wasn't oblivious enough to not notice that Roderick's robes were anything to write home about, sort of speak. How did someone even breach a topic like that, though?

"Pizza." he affirmed, eyes lighting up. He couldn't resist cheese in any form. "Can I get three slices? Pepperoni." he ordered politely, once Roderick had been served his coffee, trying not to look too bloody excited by the prospect of all that cheese. Like any teenage boy Ben had a tendency to devour all things put before him. He didn't normally get to indulge in pizza, though, as much exploring as he did. This would be a nice indulgence in a space he hadn't really expected it at. He'd never been to Franks before and the only reason he'd walked in was because he'd heard through the grapevine that Roderick was working here.

His gaze flickered up at the question. He sat quietly, contemplating his answer, as he studied his former housemate. He supposed he owed him that, at least. "Heard you were working here, wanted to see how you were doing." he said simply but firmly. He shrugged helplessly, a rueful look on his face before settling in to quiet.

Three slices. Merlin, Morgana, and Mordred. Roderick half hoped his cousin would eat himself sick -- the slices here were greasy and big, with one having to be folded over on itself in order to fit in a hand. But -- it had been Roderick who had prepped most of the pizzas this morning. He wouldn't mention this, of course, until Ben had either complimented it or ragged on it. Griffin raised an eyebrow at Roderick as Ben ordered as if to say see what manners cost? "Fuck off, Griff," Roderick muttered to his co-worker, who rolled his eyes in a not-altogether disparaging way before taking the order to the kitchen.

"Ah," said Rod, after a moment. "So, to gawk at me."

To see how he was doing? Please. Roderick had half a mind to walk away right then. His hand itched for his wand, loose in a pocket in the back of his apron. Bastards all wanted to 'see how he was doing', like he was an animal in a muggle zoo or something. He would have quit if he didn't need the money so bad. Was still thinking about it -- Basil had offered him something under the table, and now that his application to Healing school was off, it wasn't like he had to continue working somewhere respectable.

"I'm doing fine, if that was all you were wondering," Roderick said after a moment. Pizza was coming -- slices were easy, fast to serve. He was just on a fifteen. He could walk away. It would be easy. Rod took another sip of his coffee, and continued to sit.

The tall Slytherin smirked, enjoying the byplay silently. Most of his manners had nothing to do with him trying to be nice to much as reflexive behavior. It didn't hurt that it eased the way for getting things he wanted. Charm, he knew, got you positive reactions where money couldn't. It wasn't a smart move to discount someone's vanity when it came to things, most of the time, and you never really knew when you were going to be a spot to need something from someone you'd wronged. Ben liked to keep his list of enemies in the single digits. The only person he'd never been able to keep his animosity from had been Johnson and, well, he'd learnt to avoid him no matter how high the desire was to hex him.

Truly his desire to gnash his teeth at Rod was intensifying by the second. He rolled his eyes in response, and told himself that Rod didn't really have a reason to suspect he was being altruistic. The problem, he knew, was that he'd never really had much interaction with his cousin and he'd been feeling vaguely guilty, especially with the whole debacle at school. He wasn't sure if anyone had been looking out for him and he'd wanted to do ... something. "You're being bloody difficult." he murmured, huffing a bit, and leaning back. He wasn't sure what the right thing to say would be. "If I wanted to gawk I could've just stared and pointed from the window, you know." he added, his fingers unconsciously coming up to work his hair in exasperation. "And when have I ever even made it a point to mess with you?" he added, if only to highlight his point.

Ben had always been one of the quieter Slytherins in the sense that he had zero interest with things that didn't, well, interest him. Messing with Rod hadn't ever been something he'd done so the assumption he was coming to do that now was irritating. Still... his cousin hadn't gotten up and walked away, despite whatever it was he was currently assuming about his motivations. He wanted to help but didn't know how and didn't want to offer him something and have it be taken as an insult. Sometimes it was really exhausting parsing through motivations like this. Ordinarily Ben would've just called it even and left by now, too. Except he found himself caring about the situation Rod found himself in, though he wasn't sure what that situation was exactly. He looked fine, really, which he supposed matched what he was saying. "Not all I was wondering. Bloody hell. Is it really so shocking I care about how your doing?" he added, sighing, as he leaned back again. 

Ben rolled his eyes. Roderick resisted the urge to stand up, coffee cup and all, and head out to the back. Join everyone else on their smoke break. He was thinking about taking up the habit -- it was expensive as habits went, but no more so than eating and sleeping. Came with more breaks, too. Roderick's expression didn't change so much as it got harder, a subtle clench of his jaw bringing his sharp features into quick relief. If he left, though, not only would Ben know where he worked, but the bastard might come and try to talk to him again. Better to work it all out now.

He was being difficult? "I'm at work," came his short, quick reply. "Can't have a conversation at work for long, can I? Seems to me you even being here is messing with me." It was becoming apparent that Ben had never worked a day in his life, to think that this could possibly be interpreted as a friendly visit by Roderick, as opposed to an inescapable ambush.  "It isn't very considerate, is it? To come and check on someone when you know that person can't leave."

Is it really so shocking I care about how you're doing? "Yes, actually," Roderick said plainly as Griffin dropped off a massive diner plate in front of Ben. "I hardly know you. And you, me. So." He drummed his fingers against the ceramic, in a slow-rolling rhythm. What the hell did Ben know about him? Anything? Roderick certainly knew as little as possible about Benjamin Danvers, beyond his bloodline and tenous relationship to his own family.

There was only one fact that everyone knew about Roderick Macnair. "Haven't murdered any eleven-year-olds lately, if that's what you're wondering." Roderick's eyes narrowed, voice growing sharper. "Not that you seemed to particularly care then, either. I didn't see you in the hospital wing once."

He could tell that Roderick was getting huffier by the second. Not necessarily because he was being particularly overt about it but more because his jaw was clenching. That and his eyes were getting all narrowed and his voice was almost as sharp and acerbic as his words.

Alright, so, maybe he was being overt about his mounting irritation. He also, sort of, had a point about being bothered at work. Which in turn made Ben feel, sort of, bad about it. He was also aware that the interaction wouldn't happen at all if he'd tried to catch him anywhere else. His options were limited, really, if he hoped to talk to speak with Roderick at all. He felt oddly defensive about it, too, but his brain kept circling to how rude it was to start an argument when someone was literally trapped. Since he'd brought on the ambush he really did deserve the irritation. It wasn't like he didn't know this was going to be difficult, right? He wasn't sure exactly when he'd decided to be all-in on this whole, whatever it was, but Roderick was right about one thing: Ben hadn't heard no very often growing up, and he was just used to getting his way. The only redeeming quality is that he was willing to put the effort in, usually. Laziness wasn't even remotely in his lexicon.

"Thats fair." he conceded, biting his lip, and feeling a smidge contrite about the whole thing. "Any human interaction seems to mess with you." he added, frowning and feeling quite put out about it. His feelings weren't hurt, exactly, so much as his reaction was slightly insulting. (It was actually his pride that smarted. Not many people disliked his company so he was feeling a bit ... whiny. Merlin forbid someone found his presense irritating. Merlin's saggy dropping's he really was the worst, wasn't he? Somehow he'd made this about him when he'd tried to make it about Roderick and he felt sort of slimmy about it.) "Alright, alright. You're right, I was being a bit of a jerk about it. But you're incredibly difficult to talk to and to approach and this seemed, well, the safest bet." he rushed the words out, his right hand coming up to rub at his neck as he gazed at his food.

"That isn't entirely my fault, you know." he said quietly, his blue gaze refocusing on Rod. Roderick was like a impenetrable vault at the best of times, and prickly as hell. He usually didn't have the patience to chip away at that sort of thing only it seemed like he'd somehow grown a conscience overnight (he was turning into a complete and utter ninny and he really needed to get ahold of himself) and he would not let this go. "I thought it might've been better to grant space." he said, words coming out into a regrettable sigh. "It's very difficult to parse through things that would please you at any given time." he added, fingers digging into his forehead to stave off the stress headache that was starting to throb.

Maybe a strategic retreat was in order. Live to fight another day and all that. A break would mean Rod was less likely to transform into a murder kitten just now.

Ben seemed to think this was the best way to talk to him. Roderick snorted. "Ach, just write if you want to chat so bad. S'not like I've moved in the time you've known me." Ben didn't seem convinced, and he added -- "I can be quite charming, when I'm not being ambushed."

"Grant space?" Roderick stared at Benjamin for a moment, his expression blank and uncomprehending. Grant space? To who? Archie was by far the most gregarious of the Macnair family, had spent most of his hours in the hospital wing surrounded by tiny little first years. Ben continued, probably because of his clear incomprehension. Roderick's grip on the mug tightened, already pale skin going white against the ceramic. "You didn't visit Archie... because it would piss me off?"

Fucking hell. "You didn't need my permission to visit him," Roderick said, his voice's edge sharpening into a verbal blade. "You just needed to have some bloody compassion for the lad. Merlin's balls, you are a self-absorbed twat."

He picked up his coffee, nodding to Griffin. There were five minutes more in his break, and he couldn't bear to spend another around Ben without doing something that would jeopardize his job.. "Be back in five," he said to Griffin, who raised one eyebrow but said nothing. To Ben, Roderick just narrowed his eyes. "Enjoy your pizza, and then leave." He bit back more acerbic comments, on Ben's greasy meal or shite attitude, and turned on his heel to march to the back. Fuck, he needed something in his hands that wasn't a wand -- Maybe Colin would let him bum a tab.

The thought of writing hadn't crossed his mind, actually. Part of him wondered how a letter would've been received. Before he could even respond, however, Roderick had blown up. He held his own temper in check, gritting his teeth to hold the words back. He breathed heavily through his nose, blue eyes narrowed, as he let the verbal lashing continue. It was his own fault, of course, for coming here and cornering him. He bit back that it wasn't just him he'd been scared of pissing off. It wasn't all about Roderick. His mothers family didn't particularly like the way his father tended to handle his affairs and it had always been a bit of a balancing act between them all.

He was also resisting the urge to yell about who had put him in the hospital wing in the first place but somehow managing to keep his terrible temper in check. He didn't need permission to do anything, ever, but he'd been loathe to make family matters potentially worse. In retrospect it shouldn't have mattered but he'd figured at the time inaction would be better than taking the wrong action. But then the road to hell was paved with good intentions, wasn't that a saying? Wasn't this what that was? Him trying to mend the gap somehow and failing completely. And so he decided to say nothing, kept his shoulders stiff, jaw clenched, and completely still. He wasn't stupid enough to think he deserved it, not at all, but he'd acknowledged he'd probably gone about this whole thing the wrong way. A calculated risk that had blown up in his face spectacularly.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose for a second, and looking quite mournfully at his food. He'd lost his appetite. "Gonna go." he muttered, leaving probably way too much money on the table to cover what ended up being his half eaten meal. He stood up carefully, irritated that this hadn't gone better but having expected it to have gone a lot worse. He'd be back tomorrow. Maybe at some point he'd get that he was being sincere even when he'd apparently failed to do so before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite the fact that he'd been pretty determined to come back yesterday he still felt a little unsure about just... showing up again. This time at least he sort of knew what he was doing. He didn't give himself a chance to hesitate at the threshold, just sort of gliding in like he wasn't expecting to be kicked out of the establishment immediately. He didn't bother looking around for Roderick deciding to just take a seat at a stool and determined to order something before he was spotted. He nodded a greeting at the man behind the countertop, murmuring that he was going to look at the menu before deciding on what to order.

He'd probably be accused of stalking, or worse. But he'd stubbornly decided this was the way he was going forward. Bloody hell sometimes he really hated how single-minded he could get about things. For all his brilliance he really was a bloody idiot sometimes.

Besides there was plenty of food on the menu he hadn't gotten to try yet.

Colin was a good lad, a good cow-orker, and exceeding willing to let a mate buy a gram for half off, special offer, and throw in a pre-roll while you learn how to make your own. Good man, Colin.

Roderick was not used to the smoke yet, had hacked out half a lung on his morning break. But it did take the edge off, and as long as he was sober enough to cast a Deodourizing Charm, all was well in the kitchen.

Or at least, it was all well until Griffin came out to join him in the alley, in the last minute of Roderick's break. "Pizza kid is back," said Griffin, voice gruff and mild. Roderick choked on the lungful of pot smoke.

When he was able to breathe normally, Roderick gathered his strength and re-entered the kitchen, peering over the window into the dining room. Ach, but there he was, Ben Bloody Danvers, swivelling on the stool. Roderick groaned. "Did anyone tell him I'm here?" he asked his co-workers, pained. No, seemed the consenus, but Roderick was already convinced that Ben must know he was here. "Bloody Mordred's bloody balls," he muttered, shoving another busboy bodily away from the sink and angrily taking over dishwashing duty.

When Ben's food arrived, there was a sideways order ticket shoved on the side of the plate. Written in Roderick's handwriting in cramped, red ink:

Danvers --

what the bloody hell is wrong with you
i'm off shift at 8 stop bothering me at work

--RM

The piece of paper was the first thing he noticed once he'd gotten his sandwich. He snatched it up, frowning. He studied his plate for a moment, caught in indecision, before he sighed. Well nothing for it, really. The chances were pretty slim Rod would keep his word if he was determined enough to dodge him but he had only a limited amount of choices available to him. He could loiter and force his cousin to come out but he very much doubted it would be a good interaction at that point. If he left and came back at the designated time he'd maybe have a chance at a non-confrontational Rod. The choice was simple. With a sigh, and a mournful look at his food, the wizard dropped another handful of galleon's on the table, making sure he'd left a nice tip.

On second thought he'd be taking his bloody sandwich. The pizza was good and he was hungry. He could eat it on the way or something. It was sort of wrapped so it would keep.

~~~~~~~~~~

He was going to kill him, he really was. At least one of the guys that manned the bar had taken pity on him and let him know before he sat and waited like an idiot for who-knows-how-long. (All night was the answer, because Ben wouldn't have chanced Roderick getting even more violent if he'd left before he was actually done.) "Thanks." he muttered, putting his hands in his pockets before making his way out again. He probably looked, and was acting, like a kicked puppy but he felt a little sorry for himself, alright? Being aggressive hand't worked and then being patient hadn't worked, either. Maybe he should try flowers, he mused, but striked the idea out. He wanted to survive tlll at least graduation and he was fairly certain sending Rod a bouquet of red roses with an apology on them would guarantee he'd be sent to an early grave. Hopefully he woke up with a better idea.

~~~~~~~~~~

Walking up to the shop for the third day in a row should've made him feel self conscious. But he had a plan. It wasn't a very good one, mind, but it was 1) different from what he'd already tried, and 2) no worse than what he'd already tried. He entered the shop, took a look around, and having not spotted Rod he took his seat (it was his seat now, thank you) and slid into the booth. He shot the man giving him a look behind it hopeful sort of smile and passed him the folded up parchment. "Would you mind giving him that for me?" he asked, biting his lip, before grabbing for the menu again. Still plenty enough time left in the day to be turned down, again, he thought ruefully. He supposed he could just grab lunch to go if he was.

Macnair,

How about I buy you lunch somewhere you don't work, and you can yell at me to your hearts content?

BGD