Which is probably for the best, Fraser realizes as soon as he hangs up, because it means he can leave Diefenbaker behind without having to answer any questions. Jedao might not laugh at him, but he has no such faith in his wolf.
Instead, he makes some vague excuse about visiting a friend and heads upstairs, knocking on Jedao's door a few minutes later.
The door slides open a few seconds later; Jedao sits cross-legged on a cushion on the floor in the middle of the riot of color from the walls and the aquarium. The tea set is in front of him, and another pillow is set out for Fraser, so he can lean back against the desk if he wants to. A soft glass wind chime tinkles continuously. Jedao waves him over.
He glances around curiously as he crosses to sit down on the other pillow, shifting a few times experimentally to find a position he can comfortably maintain. He's never been in here before, and while it's far from the most different from his own, it's still pretty damn unusual by his standards.
"Not a problem," he assures. Besides, he didn't come here for tea or interior decorating, so he supposes he'd better get on with it. He takes a deep breath. "I've found myself in... well, in a situation I don't have much experience with. One I have to imagine you do, given that I was at your wedding, so I thought you might be able to provide some-- some insight, perhaps."
Jedao has been on more dates for assignments than he has his own initiative - he spent years picking up one-week flings in bars between months on campaign, and he can't call anything much that happened while he was Kujen's pet monster a date. But the work dates mean he understands the process better than mere experience would have taught, and he has the benefit of very few hangups.
"Congratulations," Jedao tells him, honestly warm. Fraser could use it, he thinks. "What do you like about him?"
He looks down at his tea, definitely radiating embarrassment now. It hadn't been hard to figure that piece out, had it?
"Well, he's very clever, very sharp," he murmurs, calling Peter to mind now. "We disagree on any number of things, but I like talking to him, and he says he likes talking to me. He's one of the most interesting people I've ever met."
And he's an unrepentant criminal, so he's a terrible choice, but that's really just par for the course for Benton Fraser.
"Well, that's first thing you need for a good date taken care of right there," Jedao tells him optimistically. "You enjoy each others' company. Now you're going to do it with a little more intent, that's all."
He puts lemon in his own tea, offers that and milk and sugar to Fraser as well.
He takes a tentative sip, then declines with a shake of his head; it's very good on its own.
"I don't know how much you know about my world, my time period, but where I come from..." He sighs. "There tend to be... repercussions for men who want to be with other men. Ones I don't think I'd care about if I met a man I truly loved, but in that hypothetical man's absence, I've never done-- this before. Dated."
"No?" he asks, because that was genuinely one of the things he was less than sure about.
"But-- I don't know," he hedges after a beat. "There are certain things one tends to practice -- rules of chivalry and etiquette, I mean -- somewhat differently with a woman than with a man. I know that's seen as old-fashioned by my time, but it is how I was raised."
The most important question for deciding any tactical approach.
"For tonight. Assuring that there is a longer term could be a goal. Or acquiring enough information to decide if you want a longer term could be one. Or you might prefer to focus on what happens tonight exclusively."
Well, he knows one thing he'd like to happen tonight, and Jedao is free to assume it's on his list, but there's no way he's going to say it out loud. And anyway, he wouldn't say it's really his goal. That's not something he's thought about before; it's almost a complete reframing, really.
"I suppose my goal is for us to forge a deeper connection," he decides. "And hopefully to remain on the same page about what, er, form that connection takes."
He's literally going to pretend you didn't just say that, Jedao. He now suspects you said the page number thing just to set up that joke, so now he's going to ignore that, too.
"So you're saying," he says, in an even tone but with the air of someone who is determined to wrench the reins of the conversation back on track, "that if I go into the evening with this goal in mind, then...?" Actually, he's not sure how to end that sentence.
Jedao laughs at his total non-reaction, but then waves a hand. "New metaphor. I'm saying...there's a tendency, sometimes, to imagine romance as a game, in which the winner is the person who opens up last or least. Wanting is dangerous, after all. But if it's a good romance, then it's a team game, not a pair of opponents. The first objective is to share information as clearly as possible, so that you can coordinate the best outcome for both of you. Have you ever played bridge, Benton?"
He cradles his teacup in his hands, settling into a more earnest mode.
"So, you start with your bids. It's physically impossible for you both to have the same set of cards - and if it looks like you do, it's because one of you is cheating, and that's a sign to be wary. But otherwise - maybe you've got more spades and he's got more diamonds. By making your bids, you can tell each other what you have, what you want, what you need. And it's only when you know those things that you can work together well and win the game. So tell him what you want, or hint strongly enough that he gets it. Listen for what he's telling you. And wear something that shows off your shoulders."
Okay. All right. This is a fascinating take on the issue, but he gets it. It sounds nice, honestly -- a nice way to start something new.
And then Jedao says the last thing and he squints at him, back at sea. "My shoulders." He looks down at his current outfit, which is practically a uniform unto itself at this point: leather jacket, flannel shirt, tight jeans, work boots. He's pretty sure he's not supposed to wear the red serge, but at least that has epaulettes...? "What do you suggest?"
"Dinner," he says promptly. "But not... That is, I don't cook much, and he works the dinner shift, so as I understand it we'll just be taking it to go from there."
It won't be fancy, he means. No filet mignon, unless everyone on the Barge is somehow getting one.
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Instead, he makes some vague excuse about visiting a friend and heads upstairs, knocking on Jedao's door a few minutes later.
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"It's almost ready," he promises.
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"Not a problem," he assures. Besides, he didn't come here for tea or interior decorating, so he supposes he'd better get on with it. He takes a deep breath. "I've found myself in... well, in a situation I don't have much experience with. One I have to imagine you do, given that I was at your wedding, so I thought you might be able to provide some-- some insight, perhaps."
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"Thank you," he adds conscientiously as Jedao serves the tea.
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"Congratulations," Jedao tells him, honestly warm. Fraser could use it, he thinks. "What do you like about him?"
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"Well, he's very clever, very sharp," he murmurs, calling Peter to mind now. "We disagree on any number of things, but I like talking to him, and he says he likes talking to me. He's one of the most interesting people I've ever met."
And he's an unrepentant criminal, so he's a terrible choice, but that's really just par for the course for Benton Fraser.
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He puts lemon in his own tea, offers that and milk and sugar to Fraser as well.
"What would you like to know?"
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"I don't know how much you know about my world, my time period, but where I come from..." He sighs. "There tend to be... repercussions for men who want to be with other men. Ones I don't think I'd care about if I met a man I truly loved, but in that hypothetical man's absence, I've never done-- this before. Dated."
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It's not his usual rant on Earth idiocy; it's more somber, and more sympathetic.
"It doesn't have to be any different from dating a woman, you know."
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"But-- I don't know," he hedges after a beat. "There are certain things one tends to practice -- rules of chivalry and etiquette, I mean -- somewhat differently with a woman than with a man. I know that's seen as old-fashioned by my time, but it is how I was raised."
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It's a good question. It's a hard one, too.
"Do you mean for tonight, or in the longer term?" he asks after a pause. "Assuming there is a longer term." And he doesn't completely screw it up.
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"For tonight. Assuring that there is a longer term could be a goal. Or acquiring enough information to decide if you want a longer term could be one. Or you might prefer to focus on what happens tonight exclusively."
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Well, he knows one thing he'd like to happen tonight, and Jedao is free to assume it's on his list, but there's no way he's going to say it out loud. And anyway, he wouldn't say it's really his goal. That's not something he's thought about before; it's almost a complete reframing, really.
"I suppose my goal is for us to forge a deeper connection," he decides. "And hopefully to remain on the same page about what, er, form that connection takes."
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"Alright. So: if you want to be on the same page, you should probably mention your page number."
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He's the one that got them on this metaphor, obviously, but he has no idea what that means in practice.
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"So you're saying," he says, in an even tone but with the air of someone who is determined to wrench the reins of the conversation back on track, "that if I go into the evening with this goal in mind, then...?" Actually, he's not sure how to end that sentence.
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Jedao laughs at his total non-reaction, but then waves a hand. "New metaphor. I'm saying...there's a tendency, sometimes, to imagine romance as a game, in which the winner is the person who opens up last or least. Wanting is dangerous, after all. But if it's a good romance, then it's a team game, not a pair of opponents. The first objective is to share information as clearly as possible, so that you can coordinate the best outcome for both of you. Have you ever played bridge, Benton?"
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Plus, he probably has to reward him in some way for veering off of the ridiculous sex jokes.
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"So, you start with your bids. It's physically impossible for you both to have the same set of cards - and if it looks like you do, it's because one of you is cheating, and that's a sign to be wary. But otherwise - maybe you've got more spades and he's got more diamonds. By making your bids, you can tell each other what you have, what you want, what you need. And it's only when you know those things that you can work together well and win the game. So tell him what you want, or hint strongly enough that he gets it. Listen for what he's telling you. And wear something that shows off your shoulders."
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And then Jedao says the last thing and he squints at him, back at sea. "My shoulders." He looks down at his current outfit, which is practically a uniform unto itself at this point: leather jacket, flannel shirt, tight jeans, work boots. He's pretty sure he's not supposed to wear the red serge, but at least that has epaulettes...? "What do you suggest?"
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It depends.
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It won't be fancy, he means. No filet mignon, unless everyone on the Barge is somehow getting one.
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