Beach City Grill, Santa Cruz, Sunday afternoon
Priestly habitually slammed his way in and out of the sandwich shop, so it wasn't a surprise when he did so, today.
The vengeance with which he slammed his way in was. He couldn't help it, not when he saw that Piper, Tish, and Jen were all already there, and yet he hadn't heard word one about how last night had gone.
"Alright!" He tried to ignore how Jen flinched. "I've been sitting by the phone, waiting, wondering, I demand a full report. I want all the details. What happened?"
Weirdly, it was Tish who came over. Priestly frowned. "What?"
"Okay, look. There's a good reason we didn't call you." Tish leaned in to tell him, and any other day, Priestly would be going all EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE like he had at the unicorns over how close she was standing, but today --
"You're shitting me," He looked from Tish to Jen and Piper. "Jen. Please tell me you didn't leave Fuzzy just sitting down there wondering." Jen looked away, and Priestly felt his anger surge. "Goddammit, Jen."
"Look," she said. "I don't expect you to understand."
That hurt. They'd only been living together for years, now. Well, not when he was in Asia, but still. He knew her. He thought he did, anyway. He didn't much like what he knew, now. "No, I understand. I understand that you wouldn't talk to him because you were terrified he would judge you on the basis of your looks. Yet you're completely comfortable doing the exact same thing to him. Unbelievable! God!" He spun back to the door, not able to look at Jen pouting and being miserable at him any more. They'd talked about this. She knew how he felt about appearances, about the bullshit that always seemed to be packed in along with them. He thought she got it. But she was just like all the others.
Of course Tish, damned, infuriating, gorgeous, looks-obsessed Tish was the one who came running after him.
"Hey. Hey! Hey!"
Priestly shot her a glance, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. "What?"
"Why are you pissed at me?"
"I'm not pissed at you." He turned to start walking again, his shoulders swinging forward as if he could block her out with them alone. "I mean, not you specifically, more as a representative member of your gender."
"Oh come on. That was really hard on Jen."
"Oh really?" He stopped and turned to face her. "Really, Tish? 'Cause I'm sure it was a picnic for Fuzzy, too."
"Why are you suddenly Fuzzy's best friend? Huh? Why?"
"Because it's pathetic, Tish, okay? It's pathetic that she can't rise above all this superficial horseshit that's swirling around her. I mean, why is it some people can't see a good thing when it's standing right in front of them, huh?" He tried to pretend he wasn't choking up, but god, he'd wanted to yell this at her for so long. "What is it that screws all that up? Can you tell me?" And she just stared back. She didn't get it. Of course not, she was all over Tad of all people. "I swear, you're like two year olds. You're more interested in the wrapping paper than what's inside."
She pursed her lips, and Priestly turned away again. He didn't want to deal with this, right now.
"Wait," she called after him. He glanced back. "Are you talking about Jen . . . or me?"
It took Priestly a moment to work out an answer to that. "If there's a difference, let me know."
And he turned and walked away again, hands shoved deep down in his pockets. He'd have to make his way back to the grill eventually -- he was scheduled to work closing with Jen even -- but for now, he just . . . couldn't.
He'd really thought Jen understood. What hope was there for any of them if she didn't?
[ooc: melodramatic Priestly is melodramatic. Scene riffed completely from canon. Open for phone calls on SP, as I'm about to run out the door for the evening.]
The vengeance with which he slammed his way in was. He couldn't help it, not when he saw that Piper, Tish, and Jen were all already there, and yet he hadn't heard word one about how last night had gone.
"Alright!" He tried to ignore how Jen flinched. "I've been sitting by the phone, waiting, wondering, I demand a full report. I want all the details. What happened?"
Weirdly, it was Tish who came over. Priestly frowned. "What?"
"Okay, look. There's a good reason we didn't call you." Tish leaned in to tell him, and any other day, Priestly would be going all EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE like he had at the unicorns over how close she was standing, but today --
"You're shitting me," He looked from Tish to Jen and Piper. "Jen. Please tell me you didn't leave Fuzzy just sitting down there wondering." Jen looked away, and Priestly felt his anger surge. "Goddammit, Jen."
"Look," she said. "I don't expect you to understand."
That hurt. They'd only been living together for years, now. Well, not when he was in Asia, but still. He knew her. He thought he did, anyway. He didn't much like what he knew, now. "No, I understand. I understand that you wouldn't talk to him because you were terrified he would judge you on the basis of your looks. Yet you're completely comfortable doing the exact same thing to him. Unbelievable! God!" He spun back to the door, not able to look at Jen pouting and being miserable at him any more. They'd talked about this. She knew how he felt about appearances, about the bullshit that always seemed to be packed in along with them. He thought she got it. But she was just like all the others.
Of course Tish, damned, infuriating, gorgeous, looks-obsessed Tish was the one who came running after him.
"Hey. Hey! Hey!"
Priestly shot her a glance, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. "What?"
"Why are you pissed at me?"
"I'm not pissed at you." He turned to start walking again, his shoulders swinging forward as if he could block her out with them alone. "I mean, not you specifically, more as a representative member of your gender."
"Oh come on. That was really hard on Jen."
"Oh really?" He stopped and turned to face her. "Really, Tish? 'Cause I'm sure it was a picnic for Fuzzy, too."
"Why are you suddenly Fuzzy's best friend? Huh? Why?"
"Because it's pathetic, Tish, okay? It's pathetic that she can't rise above all this superficial horseshit that's swirling around her. I mean, why is it some people can't see a good thing when it's standing right in front of them, huh?" He tried to pretend he wasn't choking up, but god, he'd wanted to yell this at her for so long. "What is it that screws all that up? Can you tell me?" And she just stared back. She didn't get it. Of course not, she was all over Tad of all people. "I swear, you're like two year olds. You're more interested in the wrapping paper than what's inside."
She pursed her lips, and Priestly turned away again. He didn't want to deal with this, right now.
"Wait," she called after him. He glanced back. "Are you talking about Jen . . . or me?"
It took Priestly a moment to work out an answer to that. "If there's a difference, let me know."
And he turned and walked away again, hands shoved deep down in his pockets. He'd have to make his way back to the grill eventually -- he was scheduled to work closing with Jen even -- but for now, he just . . . couldn't.
He'd really thought Jen understood. What hope was there for any of them if she didn't?
[ooc: melodramatic Priestly is melodramatic. Scene riffed completely from canon. Open for phone calls on SP, as I'm about to run out the door for the evening.]