An awkward meeting (Reginold)

Mantis hummed a chuckle over Reginold’s pondering and his remark on his past life as a family man.

The sight of him reading the menu was almost endearing; glasses perched low on his nose, looking oddly like man his age despite his well preserved features. Mantis must have looked young by comparison, especially with his hair pushed behind his ear and the relative youth of his body made evident by the flattering garb he’d chosen to wear. Not that any age difference particularly bothered him. Or at least no bothersome thought was present in the way he would steal glances of the unsuspecting Doctor - of how his hand would rest on the table along with his wine glass, oddly inviting. Mantis almost reached out for it, but merely placed his own on the table and busied himself with the food selection.

“It’s been… a bit,” he mused, claws dancing about the stem of his untouched wine glass. “But the mushroom risotto sounds like something I would have ordered once upon a time,” he continued and closed the menu with a little nonchalant lift of his hand, indicating he had been defeated by it.

“When you live on the road for an extended period of time you tend to-,” his fingers touched Reginold’s idly, as though by accident, but the glance that followed indicated anything but. “-this type of stuff.” I’m sure you know all about it.

Had he known who was watching then, he might not have made things so … obvious. But unfortunately the omnic clientele and staff in the restaurant rendered his internal computer oblivious to the presence of an individual drone - no matter how strikingly familiar. A blind spot, a fact he would likely come to regret in a matter of minutes.

Reginold gave a sigh. "Yes, I know all about being on the road, the unfortunate nature of the food you get on it," he mused and smiled a bit when he felt Mantis's fingers brush over his. He turned his hand over and intertwined their fingers. "Wine is quite good though, I suppose for a 50$ bottle it ought to be." Reginold wasn't exactly prudish with his money, though he had a certain sense that things should be worth their price.

"Mushroom Risotto, I'll have to steal a bit, sounds rather good," he mused as he took another sip of wine, shifting his glasses back up his face. He also hadn't really noticed anything, and the droid had vanished from the bar.

The waiter came and took down their orders, and when he disappeared behind him stood the droid. "Oh isn't this darling?" mused Whiskey as he pulled a chair over and sat backwards in it, arms resting on the back. "The doctor and the spy...that's a thrilling romance if I ever heard one, a premise like that could score you a deal in this fine city." He plucked a bit of the fancy bread and dredged it in balsamic vinegar, taking a bit. "Food is such a strange thing isn't it?" He sighed. "Doesn't really hold the same appeal since well...since I stopped needing it."

Reginolds blood ran cold as he looked over at the mockery of his son's face. He sort of just stared at him, what the hell was he doing here? "You...you're following me..." he accused.

"Well of course, can't have dear old dad getting himself into trouble...don't worry, I'm not trying to catch you. Who do you think has been feeding Talon bad info for months now so you two could have your fling?" Whiskey hummed in a clever little tone, it was practically grating.

Mantis let his hand be taken, welcoming the gesture despite his initial hesitance to initiate it himself. It wasn’t like the people around them were exactly looking. People of LA, and surrounding areas, were often much too absorbed into themselves to pay attention to others around them - or so Mantis thought. What an unfortunate time to let his guard down like that.

‘Oh isn't this darling?’

Mantis had been in the midst of saying something, replying perhaps, but came to a sudden halt. He felt a chill run down his spine and a certain familiar dread coil in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t have to run a search through his data archive to ping a result to this voice. He didn’t even have to turn his head to know it was-

Oh.
Oh no. Please god no.
Not this fuck again. Not now.

Instinctively Mantis drew his hand away from Reginold’s, as though the jig hadn’t already been up a good long time. The gesture was so hasty it teetered his wine glass, which, by some miracle, didn’t tip over. His face emptied of all the warmth that had been there and he turned it away from both Reginold and his … young incarnation. Whatever you were supposed to call the droid whose artificialness Mantis’s UI alerted him to - like it had the last time he’d crossed paths with the boy. Except that last time, in Numbani, Mantis had been too drugged out to actually tell what had been going on.

On a positive note, that memory didn’t feel as embarrassing anymore now that he had a new one to compare it to.
What was it that he’d said to the boy then? Ah yes.
‘Good times.’

Mantis cleared his throat and brought his hand to his bared temple to guard any potential flush that might have appeared, on the mention of … a fling.  Jesus christ, why did the boy have to call it that. Or better yet, why did he have to be aware of it in the first place.

“You have to be kidding me,” he muttered under his breath, too dazed to do anything but.
Whether not Reginold found this statement insulting, Mantis didn’t consider.

"Oh, neither of you look pleased to see me, not even my dear father; I'm disappointed," he mused as leaned his head on his fingers. "Kidding you? Oh why would I kid? Did you think I didn't know, how else would I know who you are? Tsk, tsk, I'm insulted. Father passed by where I've been calling home base, I slipped a little low-jack to his cute little robot. Easy, Enoch's got incredible optics though, I must say the detail is impeccable where ever did you find a camera like that?" Whiskey tilted his head.

Reginold still seemed a bit struck with it all. "...you-you've been using Enoch to spy on me tha-" he was cut off by a wave.

"Only when he's in sleep mode, I'm not overwriting your precious little machine boy." Whiskey shrugged. "I've gotta say though, your worst attempt is far better than Overwatch's little girl. She's adorably primitive."

The Doctor was gritting his teeth, he hated looking at this facsimile of his son. What might have been, all it did was remind him of the horror scene he'd created. Whatever Whiskey was now, it certainly wasn't the boy who'd left for boarding school. Reginold fingered the wine glass, needing something to do to ease the anxiety. "Why are you here...Whiskey?" he asked softly, but there was an edge to it.

The droid looked mockingly hurt. "Ouch, won't even use my real name, that's cold. I wanted to check on you two, see how things were going. Ask a favor of my old man." He glanced over at MAntis with an odd expression. "So you can say thank you, for letting you two have all those...tender nights."

The doctor went very stiff releasing his hold on the glass lest he break it.

This little fuck had been watching him? All those times they’d- oh god.
Mantis let loose a strangled cough, trying to hold onto the bits of composure that still remained. To say that he looked uncomfortable was understatement.

He stared at the empty bread plate before him and felt a wave of nausea lash in his stomach. How could he have been so careless? Had he let his emotions get the best of him? The look on his face was as close to heartbreak as he would probably let himself get in a public setting. Or it was, until Reginold’s outrage properly registered with him. It wasn’t the man’s fault - not really. And to his credit, the Doctor seemed even more distressed about the revelation than Mantis was - if possible. Not that this was a pissing contest, despite it being a rather … well, a pissy situation, for the lack of a better word.

He had, however, still been compromised, his cover partially blown.

There had been only a handful of times during his career he had been in the receiving end of the ‘I have been watching you’ routine. It had always been a humbling experience, it had always smarted, but never quite like this. Or, at least Mantis felt the shock, the hurt and shame of it all very potently at that moment. Keeping it all behind his face was a struggle, and while he didn’t do an exactly stellar job at it, in the face of such news, he was so be commended.

He couldn’t, however, deal with the situation sober. And the wine was not going to be enough.
“Vodka, straight up,” he waved at a waiter passing by. “Make it a double, while you’re at it.”
His battle enhancers rarely mixed well with hard liquors but hard times called for hard measures.

"I have no favors to give you, why should I?" Reginold remarked rather coldly, watching Mantis call the Waiter, he'd considered a harder beverage but not now. That was a weakness and he wasn't about to show some crack in the cold mask he'd taken on. "You have betrayed any trust I had in you, and you ask me for something?" He swallowed and Whiskey giggled.

"Oh father, really it's not a favor for me..." he purred as he reached into his pocket, sliding over a little plastic electronics case. "I overheard you had a problem, figured a few months waiting and a risky visit to a doctor surely all of your enemies are aware of wasn't worth it..." He smirked.

Reginold looked to Mantis and then to the little box. He put his hand on it and dragged it over to the edge of the table, picking it up before it could fall off. He felt so naked without his Gauntlets, he didn't assume his son was out to get him...but there was a sense that what was now his boy wasn't exactly trustworthy.

"Go on, it's a present, you turned 48 a week or two ago, right? It's a gift, you're welcome," cooed the droid as he watched the waiter bring over the vodka, and with it their meals. "Oh and its time for dinner, what timing. Happy Birthday; and I wish you so much luck together. You're absolutely darling." He stood up from the chair and walked away, vanishing into the crowd. There was a terrible silence that over took the table.

The Doctor found his appetite compromised. He stared at the little plastic case. all of your enemies are aware of... And where did Whiskey sit in that way. He had perhaps naively believed Arne to be a safe bet, why would they be following around some average neural doctor? But of course, if they had access to his home records, his account information...of course they would know of Arne.

He popped open the plastic casing, it was as he expected. "XKB12..." he murmured closing the case and furrowing his brow, as he swiftly emptied his wine glass.

In his wake, Whiskey left a lack of appetite and a grave, uncomfortable silence - in which Reginold discovered the most unlikely of gifts. When it had exchanged hands and Reginold had extended a dismayed look at Mantis, he hadn’t quite known what to prepare for, but he certainly not for-

‘XKB12’

“Jesus Christ-,” Mantis muttered out loud but under his breath, both disbelieving and defeated. He seemed deflate in his chair, letting go of a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. He looked oddly tired for the brief moment it took for him to wrap his fingers around his newly received shot of vodka.

Thinking back to the time they’d argued over the chip made Mantis uncomfortable. It was not that the memory was entirely tainted or bad, per say, but it had been a very private and vulnerable moment. And to know that someone had potentiallyseen it - or was aware of it - didn’t sit well with Mantis at all.

“You must have married one-,” it clearly took a significant amount of energy for him not to resort to the word ‘vile’. “-hell of a woman for him to have turned out like that.” Mantis muttered and downed half of his drink with a grimace. The thoughts of Reginold’s ex-wife plagued him sometimes for reasons that were not entirely rational, and what he’d just said might have been taken as proof of such.

The risotto sat in front of him, untouched. The incident had made him feel sick to his stomach.

"I raised him from a baby, his mother wasn't really ever in his life...I'm afraid much of him is my fault," he said softly. That cut deep though, his son was...acting disgraceful. A direct reflection of his own failures. "Sorry, about him...I never had enough...time. Never enough time." He slipped the chip into the pocket of his pants, and looked down at the food he'd ordered, mechanically cutting a ravioli mopping up sauce and putting it in his mouth to chew.

It would be rude to leave food untouched, and it seemed to relieve some of the tension in his shoulders, the act.

The doctor had to say something about it as it was bothering him at this point. "You seem preoccupied with the fact that I was previously married why? I'm not wearing a wedding ring, I've never even mentioned her name, is there something about her you want to know?" he asked slightly more sharply than he intended. It was just getting the best of him, did Mantis think he was in anyway still pining over Jackie? He'd barely thought of her in a decade, she was just a forgotten bit of the past. "Cause there isn't much to tell, her career was more important than raising children and having a family and she left. There's nothing more, stop mentioning her she doesn't exist to me anymore."

He supposed with the wrong tone that would sound like he didn't mean it, but his tone was so neutral and matter of fact. She didn't exist to him anymore, it was a fact. She hadn't in a long time, the time he was married vs the time he wasn't even a comparison.

He put the fork down, having managed about a third of the dish before his emotional state shut down thoughts on the rest. He was sure it would taste good were he in a better state. It was just paste to him at the moment.

‘I raised him from a baby, his mother wasn't really ever in his life.’

Oh crap. He hand’t meant to-
“...sorry,” Mantis said awkwardly, acknowledging the fact that he’d offended Reginold with the quip. “I’m … I wasn’t blaming you,” The damn kid just got under my skin.

And then the matter of ... her. On a subconscious level, he’d been expecting to be called out on his grievances sooner or later, but the conscious parts of him sure weren’t ready for it. He shifted, visibly uncomfortable, and poked at the risotto with his fork, his gaze lost somewhere in the creamy rice.

‘There's nothing more, stop mentioning her she doesn't exist to me anymore’

“Right,” Mantis seemed to sort of … shrink in his seat at that. “I just-,” well, that ‘right’ sure had been short lived. “She meant something to you once. You can call me petty all you like but-,” the conversation served to make him even more nauseous than before. “-when she comes up I-,” feel oddly jealous? No, he couldn’t say it like that, it felt more pathetic than it already was. He frowned at his food, thinking. “-I can’t help but to wonder if I can ever compare to anything like … that.” What the ‘that’ entailed must have been obvious, given the context that they’d just had the rotten luck of crossing paths with Reginold’s son. The guy could talk flack on his ex-wife, but it didn’t erase the fact that there’d been enough of something there to produce a kid. While Mantis didn’t really care for children, nor could he even have any, he knew they didn’t occur without an intense bond between the parents. Or so it was at least in the ideal situation, he’d imagine.

Having said all that, Mantis seemed embarrassed. He felt too exposed, too raw - like he had to try and regain some ground.

“But what do I know,” the breath of a chuckle that followed was utterly mirthless. “My deepest relationship in the past has been with a guy who puts cigarettes out on me,” Jesus Christ that didn’t come out like he’d intended. It was supposed to be a joke, but instead it ended up being likely one of the saddest things he’d ever said. And the realization of it showed on him for a moment.

Reginold shrugged. "We were both well off, had strong career goals, she was attractive. I find women attractive, does that bother you too? Seems all of my outtings with men never did, I dated quite a few of them. Some of them meant quite a lot to me..." he said it all so dryly, tired of this assumption that because he married one of them that suddenly made that relationship mean more. "She didn't want kids, I did, the condom failed one night I wasn't broken up about it but she didn't want to be a mother, I convinced her to carry the child and after that she could do what she liked." His tone grew colder. "Then she left. That's the whole true story. There was nothing deeper about it, I married her because I enjoyed her company and we worked well. Then this very important thing between us was never compatible and she decided to find something more suitable."

"If you can compare...compare to what? To our past relationship? They are different, you can't compare like and like, they aren't the same thing. What we have, and what she and I had are completely different animals, neither is better or worse, but if it really makes you feel any better she never made me quite as frustrated, happy and satisfied as you."

The Doctor sighed. "Why can't you just believe me when I say I'm not interested in what I had in the past?" he pleaded and poured more wine into his glass.

He sighed and rubbed his forehead, taking a long drink. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be upset, it's just being a bisexual man everyone seems to assume you'll cheat on everyone you're with..." he said softly, the greater source of his irritation. It just felt like that when Mantis asked about his ex-wife. He realized it wasn't but still.

Reginold furrowed his brow. "I..." he opened his mouth but then, he didn't know what to say so he went quiet. Mantis had never had the chance to live the absolutely mundane life that Reginold had lived up till his flight. It distinctly mean there wasn't always a throughline they could latch on to between them. He finished off the glass and set it aside. "I'm sorry, I really...wish this had gone better. I guess murphy's law really got us here."

"...Lets just go get pizza, I'm sure there's at least one place around here that doesn't put pineapple on theirs," he said trying to lighten the mood if it was a bit half-hearted.

‘I find women attractive, does that bother you too?’
“No, I just-,” but whatever defense was about to follow, fell to silence. Mantis merely sat there, sort of hunched, listening and staring at his untouched food.

He had been wanting to know what happened there; with Reginold and his wife. But now that he did, it was almost too much. He tried to make the information settle in his stomach, to say something back, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t say he was sorry about what happened. Maybe some odd empathetic speck of him wanted to, but the truth was that while he certainly hated that someone had mistreated Reginold, he wasn’t sorry that it had lead the man to him.

However, before he could even come around to finish this rather confusing thought, Reginold commanded his full attention with ‘If you can compare...compare to what? To our past relationship?’

What indeed, Mantis thought in turn, his hand squeezing the fork a little tighter for a moment.

“On the contrary to common belief, I am a human, Reginold,” he said, more as quip to himself than a jab at the Doctor. Mantis was fully aware of how a relationship of this nature, a mutually respectful one, was foreign territory to him. “And I can’t explain half of this shit sometimes. I’ve never … I’ve never done this before,” he continued, a certain resignation, an echo of embarrassment in his voice. He did however, glance up briefly when Reinold extended an olive branch of ‘she never made me quite as frustrated, happy and satisfied as you’ his way. And as much as he might have hated to admit it, it did make him feel better.

‘I'm sorry, I don't mean to be upset, it's just being a bisexual man everyone seems to assume you'll cheat on everyone you're with…’

There was a fraction of a second Mantis knit his brow at this. That’s not what he had thought at all, but he decided not to press the point since Reginold seemed to, at least on some level, realize that he was projecting. It wasn’t exactly fair, but neither was Mantis being jealous of something that no longer existed. There was also that to consider.

Then, there was a rather heavy silence in which Mantis felt the gravity of what he’d just said about his past relationships - or the lack thereof. He felt his shoulders tense beneath that weight and tried to ease it by sipping his wine, gaze anywhere else than on Reginold - who was kind enough to alleviate the silence eventually. Mantis looked up at him and gave a crooked smile at his comment on murphy’s law.

“It was a good idea in theory,” he said, trying to lift the mood himself.
‘Lets just go get pizza, I'm sure there's at least one place around here that doesn't put pineapple on theirs.’
“But I think that might be a better one in practice,” he continued with a slightly broader smile and let his fork into the risotto plate with clink of abandon.

Reginold hadn't really thought of that. Well he had, but not very deeply it was always a passing thing. Mantis was new to this, this sort of complicated mess that was a relationship of any substance. While Reginold wasn't exactly perfectly adapted to social life he'd had more of a chance at it. He'd had relationships, and all the nasty complicated gook that came with them, he'd had time to get over some of the hang ups. Even if he'd not gotten over all of them.

He had to reframe his thoughts, he was acting like this was just easy to do, but he had at least 10 years on Mantis...and of course it was never easy. If you didn't have the context and experience how would anyone know what to do? At least Koen made it clear what bothered him about Reginold's past.

"I'm sorry, I know, I get caught up in the fact I've been through it. Not everyone shares my experiences and it's not fair to assume," he said softly. "But I just...I want you to know that I don't wish for a return to the past. As much as I enjoyed a lot of it, I don't intend on trying to reclaim it. It's not where I am." He left cash on the table despite saying he didn't want to. He didn't want to bother to count anything out, leaving an estimate of the price and the tip.

He stood up. "It was good in theory I'll give it that," he agreed with a mild chuckle. "I'm grateful, you've been pretty honest about whats bothering you at least. I'm not always good at it, I hope I have somewhat eased your mind." He offered his arm.

The doctor sighed. "I always wondered why no one dressed up to get pizza. Felt like a waste, it is fine italian dining isn't it?" He mused.

He didn’t wish to return to the past. While Mantis had realized this on a rational level, hearing Reginold say it out loud still gave him a sense of ease - to hear that there was actually some sense in what he was feeling and that this whole relationship thing wasn’t just making him crazy.

In the midst of digesting Reginold’s apology, however, the older man stood up, making Mantis instinctively follow. He rushed to finish his glass of wine while doing so, wiping his mouth hastily with a napkin that he then dropped on the table, next to his untouched food. Turning to leave, he was surprised by the rather old fashioned gesture. His gaze shifted between Reginold’s smile and his arm that was on offer, and one could be pretty safe in their assumption that this was something that had never happened to him before. After a moment of hesitation, he took it, his movements sort of cautious, unsure. And, had one been looking careful enough, they might have spotted the most insignificant flushes of red across his face as he did so.

--

This was more of his scene, Mantis thought and he sat down on a tall bar stool, cradling a slice of pizza and a napkin in his hands. Not that the upscale LA restaurants couldn’t be nice, but this was just … more him. Comfortable little corner place that saw too many faces come and go a day to remember a specific one. Even if it could definitely be argued that two men in their finery showing up in the dead of night were exactly its most forgettable clientele. Mantis had felt the keen stares for a moment, but as it was LA, people seemed to only have a limited amount of energy to invest in strangers. He was, of course, more aware of his surroundings than the average los angelesian, but still seemed more relaxed than earlier.

Or, at least his appetite seemed to be back.

“Ah, it’s hot,” Mantis muttered after attempting a hasty bite, covering his mouth before mending it with a wash of beer, freshly opened, glass bottle still pleasantly sweaty. He glanced at Reginold, tipping the beverage slightly his way in complement. “Still a better idea, though,” he looked down at his jacket, folded in his lap. "Even if grossly overdressed."