Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise.
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"Hey, sweetie," Benny murmured into the phone, ignoring the eyes that he could feel burning into his back as every other person in the loft watched him. "It's me."
Alison seemed somewhat relieved to hear him on the other line. "Hey," she said brightly. "How is it going?"
Benny cleared his throat nervously. The entire space had quieted to listen to this phone call. When he'd nervously asked if he could use the phone, they'd first said no and he'd been sorely tempted to throw his land-lord power over them. Realizing that such an action would be rather counterproductive, however, Benny had just sighed and said he'd walk downstairs.
Apparently it was a test or something because then he was being pushed towards the phone and told to call Muffy.
He'd really have to teach them to stop calling her that.
"It's going well." He reported, not sure how much he could say with these eavesdroppers. Realizing that that too would not help his cause if they found out he was lying about Alison's involvement, he fixed himself. "I told them and they're prepared to hear out the offer. Don't tell your dad anything yet, though, because they haven't heard the proposition yet and they may very well say no."
Glancing to the side, he watched as Mark's eyebrow quirked upwards, with the revelation that Alison knew all about where he was and what he was doing. Maureen was still watching with narrowed eyes, while Joanne had clearly leant her head back to have a rest. Maureen's hands slowly rubbed at Joanne's hand, but other than that, all her attention was on this phone call.
Collins was lounging on the one person couch, legs up over the side while he watched the exchange with a wise air of observation.
"You know I'm not asking about the business, sweetie," Alison said, sounding a little odd as she responded.
Benny smiled to himself before he could help it. "I know, sweetie," he responded. He saw out of the corner of his eye as Mark's eyebrow rose further and he heard Maureen's giggle of glee. "All I can say is that I haven't been pushed off the fire escape yet, so hopefully I'm okay."
Again, he heard Maureen's skeptical snort.
"We wouldn't throw you out the window, Benjamin," she said. "We'd be much sneakier than that."
Benny swallowed and focused his attentions on his wife's voice. "I'm glad to hear it," Alison said warmly. "I can hear some of them in the background. Which ones are there?"
Benny looked around the room as though he was checking again. "Uhm,' he replied a bit hesitantly. "Mark, Collins, Maureen and Joanne."
"You told Muffy about us?" Mark enquired upon hearing this. "I mean, you wasted her time with our introductions."
Benny flushed for a moment, hoping Alison didn't hear the comments, or her unpleasant nickname. Ignoring Mark, he turned his back to them and talked directly to the phone. "Alison?" he checked, to make sure she was still there. Quickly consulting his watch, he said "I'm not going to make it home before at least ten o'clock. Did you want me to bring you anything home?"
Maureen made mocking cooing noises in the background and again, Benny flushed. He pressed the phone closer to his ear, hoping that he could block out the noise.
"Don't do that, sweetie. I'll probably be in bed by then—I have a seminar in the morning. You can tell me all about it at breakfast tomorrow, yeah?"
Maureen's noises were getting louder.
"Yeah sure," he said distractedly, trying to ignore Maureen.
"Okay. See you tomorrow. I love you."
"You too." Benny replied, not finished speaking before the phone hit the handle. "Maureen what the hell?"
Everyone turned glares to him and Benny reminded himself that he was in enemy territory. But he was here to help her, and she was going to insult his wife while she could hear every word? Was that really what his friends were?
"Back off, Benjamin Coffin," Maureen warned him. "You're the one who went and married her."
Rolling his eyes, Benny moved away from the phone and went to rest on the cold window sill. He grimaced as he shoved his hands into his pockets.
They had told him to postpone telling them about his proposal while they waited for Roger and Mimi to get back. Collins and Joanne seemed to at least believe that his intentions here were in their best interests. He was convinced that Maureen felt the opposite, but wasn't sure about where Mark stood. At this point, he was hoping that Collins and Joanne could represent him when Roger returned and refused to listen to a thing that Benny told him.
Which was, incidentally, what they were waiting for.
Making some sort of immature point about how they were a family and a team and he clearly wasn't a part of it, Mark had refused to hear any of Benny's business proposal until everyone was present. Unfortunately for the part of Benny that had been hoping for someone else to calm Roger before the confrontation, no one seemed to be willing to do that for him.
The sound of the door sliding back made Benny jerk, and he quickly directed his gaze to the door. Sure enough, Roger's tall frame entered, and, underneath his arm was—
Mimi?
She was tiny—frail and pale and almost instantly thoughts of Roger's anger fled his mind. What had happened to her? Had she seen a doctor yet? Was she going to be okay? Oh, god, had she gotten something? Was it the AIDs? With the questions flying through his head, Benny didn't really notice as Roger caught sight of him, stopping dead and staring.
There was a pregnant pause, in which Benny attempted to make his mind stop questioning things and focus. Roger was her, now and he looked angry. This was beyond a business deal now. This is where things got heated.
(Only now? a sarcastic voice in Benny's mind scoffed. He silenced it.)
For another second, Benny and Roger just stared at each other, with Mimi flicking her gaze nervously between the two. Roger's left hand had clenched into a fist, but his right arm—the one around Mimi—was just as gentle as it had been when he was walking her in the door.
Another moment of silence, and then Roger moved.
Embarrassingly, Benny flinched.
While Mark and Collins smirked watching this, Roger didn't seem to have noticed and instead had turned to Mimi. "You taken you're AZT, babe?" he asked her softly, only audibly to everyone else because of the strangled silence.
Mimi shook her head.
Roger smiled at her. "You go lie down," he told her. "I'll grab it for you."
Mimi smiled gratefully as Roger helped him to his room, the two of them ignoring Benny's presence entirely. The door to his room had long since gone—something Benny, as the landlord, should have fixed years ago (if they'd been paying rent)—and had been replaced by a large sheet of canvas. Pushing it aside, Mimi hobbled inside, while Roger remained outside.
In complete silence, the guitarist walked to the bathroom, extracted the pills he needed and walked to his room. He disappeared for a moment, giving everyone in the room time to exchange nervous glances and letting Benny contemplate just running for it now, before returning.
He watched Benny with cold eyes.
"Why're you here?"
This couldn't be the Benny that Mark had been threatening him with. Roger had always thought about what he was doing but he was a performer. A musician, and a specifically impulsive one at that.
"Business," Benny replied, as if on autopilot. He flinched, hearing his own answer and shook his head. "No—that's not… I'm here to help you with a problem."
Roger didn't react. Physically at least—he remained still, unblinking as he surveyed him. Benny only just noticed the movement on his neck as he swallowed. When he spoke, his voice was tight.
"And what problem is that?"
This time, it was Benny that swallowed. His throat had suddenly become stupidly dry, as he nervously watched the song-writer. "We were waiting for you and Mimi before I explained." It seemed that that inspiration wasn't as good an idea as it had been before Roger's threatening presence had only been feet away. Benny shifted slightly from where he leant against the loft's windowsill.
There was a sound from the other room—Mimi's room—the sound of things falling from other things and coming to land on the floor with a soft clutter. Suddenly oblivious to Roger and his threatening presence, Benny stood, eyes widening in concern and instantly made to move forward.
"Fuck," Mark exclaimed standing and quickly blocking Benny's path. "What the hell did I say, Benny?"
That brought him back to reality. Benny jolted slightly and looked at Mark incredulously. "You said she was okay." He said accusingly. "You told me she was okay and I didn't have to worry. Why would you lie?"
"Because it was none of your business." The meek sound came from the doorway, and everyone turned to see Mimi had opened the flap to Roger's door and was frowning at him. She looked particularly frail leaning on the weak structure of the door and Roger quickly rushed forward to support her.
"You told him?" Roger said accusingly, glaring at the back of Mark's head.
Mark flinched before turning. "He wouldn't stop coming. It was a six second message at most and I told him to leave us alone."
"Oh, clearly," he said, sarcastically gesturing at Benny, who had obviously not done as Mark implied.
Mark made an impatient noise, but their argument was cut off when Mimi swooned a bit, falling forward and only barely catching herself on Roger's arm. His other arm was instantly at her side, holding her up, all thoughts of Benny vanishing again. Shaking, she pressed her hand flat against Roger's chest and smiled to herself before turning to Benny.
"You didn't need to know, Benny," she said, the effort of merely talking clearly exhausting her.
Roger quickly took over for her. "Everything she needed she can get from us. She doesn't need your money." The way they said it implied that it was money that was dirty. Who were they kidding? Money was survival and with it you get to the top. Without it you stay in a loft, not paying rent, with barely enough money to pay for their AZT let alone commodities.
But this was a battle he wouldn't win. Or, at least, not yet.
"Listen," Benny said, taking a trusting step backwards to show that he didn't need Mark acting like a body guard anymore. "What I have to tell you is important. Even though I'm not happy, I'm not here because of that phone message."
His gaze lingered on Mimi for just a fraction of a second, but it was long enough for Roger to notice and shift the two of them so that he was also standing ahead of her—separating her from Benny even further. He moved forward, still holding her steady as he led her to the couch. He didn't drop Benny's eye until they reached the couch, when he turned back to Mimi.
The transition on his features was instantaneous. The clear stubbornness that Benny had come to assume was the only expression he had left vanished, replaced by sheer, open concern as he lowered her onto the soft seat. He touched her as though she was the most delicate thing in the world and it wasn't until she was still and seated on the couch that he let her go (with one hand. The other stayed wrapped around hers when he straightened and turned to once again face Benny.
Closing his eyes for a moment, Benny took a deep breath and, upon reopening them, refocused on Collins, where he stood with Joanne. Mark, recognizing this effort on Benny's part (thank god) relaxed and let himself fall back into the couch, beside Mimi and ignoring Roger's stoic position. "So, what's the problem with the performance space?"
Before Benny could respond, Mark had continued, noticing that his best friend looked a bit confused. Filling Roger in, Mark explained about Mr. Tate and the problem (as much as he knew about it at least) before settling back to let Benny have free reign of the explanation.
"My investor came to me with troubling news this morning," Benny said, adopting the persona he used when giving presentations at Westport. Frowning at himself, he thought to what Alison had said. Don't make this about business. But Benny was a business man. He hadn't necessarily dug himself into a hole yet. "It concerned the performance space and I realized that I had to warn you guys about it before someone else tried to take it from you."
"Before you could, you mean." Maureen put in, before he could continue.
Benny sighed. "This isn't about business for me, Maureen. Since your protest, my investor has lost all interest in taking the space."
"What do you call him when you're not at work?" Collins enquired suddenly.
Taken off guard, Benny was silent for a moment. "What?"
"Your investor. What do you call him when he's over at your house for dinner?"
Benny swallowed. Mr. Grey had always been Mr. Grey, and by the time he could have been just a member of Alison's family, he was already cemented as Benny's top boss. And, truth be told, while Benny interacted with both Mr. Grey and Alison almost twenty four hours a day, the time that the two of them shared was extremely short. It wasn't as though they didn't get along. They just didn't have the time.
"Mr. Grey," Benny responded bluntly.
Collins snorted at that response and let his head loll back onto the couch. Maureen and Mark quickly followed, and even Mimi cracked a slight smile. Roger sniggered slightly with all of them. The only one who didn't seem to understand the intense humour in him calling his father in law by title was Joanne, who was infinitely more mature than the rest combined.
And she had evidentially been focusing on other things.
"If Mr. Grey's lost all interest in the performance space, then how does he know about the developments concerning other buyers?"
Damn lawyer.
On the other hand, her expertise would give his plan instant trust if she liked it. Maureen would listen, Collins as well. Mark, if anyone, appreciated the reality of a law degree. Mimi would listen, but Roger wouldn't listen to a thing. Still, Collins, Maureen and Mark were a start.
"Mr. Grey—" they all sniggered "—has all the potential investments that he's interested in, or ever been interested in monitored. And when he realized that Mr. Tate was involved he obviously sent someone to put a stop to it."
There was, again, uproar.
"You're so full of shit, Benny," Mark groaned, pressing a hand to his head as though he has a headache. "This is all about you're fucking money."
"It's not me." Benny said quickly and quietly. "I've been promoted since you last saw me. I don't handle those areas anymore."
Roger let out a scoff. "Oh, congratulations. Glad you don't have to do the dirty work anymore."
Benny rolled his eyes. "I'm here. This isn't about my job, guys. You needed to know, and I came up with a way to work this for you, and against Mr. Tate."
They were silent, eyes narrowed, while they watched. But they were silent still, and waiting for him to continue—which, Benny inferred quickly, meant that they were actually listening for once.
"I spoke to my inve—Mr. Grey, and we agreed on how to tackle this problem from all angles. He doesn't know that I have a close relationship with you guys"—there were a couple of sarcastic coughs from around the room that made Benny cringe—"but my idea covers everyone. Westport is happy and you guys are happy." He could instantly sense that they were about to again accuse him of only being here for business, so he quickly said. "You guys get to keep the performance space."
Whatever they'd been expecting, it wasn't that, and there was only a stunned silence to greet his statement.
Maureen, ever the performer, recovered first.
"You're giving us the performance space?" She echoed incredulously, frowning skeptically at him. "Just like that."
Benny felt his smile slip onto his face before he could help it.
"Just like that."
There was another silent pause.
Mark cleared his throat to break the silence and frowned slightly before speaking, contemplating how to respond. He pulled out his camera and wound it before speaking and then cleared his throat again.
"Close on Benny, our ex-roommate whose desperation for money and prestige led him to abandoning his friends and family. Benny has returned, with a seemingly miraculous offer that will apparently satisfy all parties." He narrated.
Benny sighed, and looked directly at the camera.
"If you let Westport buy the space, we can name one of you placeholder, and you'll effectively own the right to do whatever you like with the space." He declared.
Marks previously eloquent narration transformed into an odd 'urh' noise as Maureen jumped up and stalked forward quickly. Stopping only inches from Benny, she lifted an accusing finger up to Benny's eye line.
"You better not be messing with me, Benjamin Coffin. What's the catch?"
Benny smirked. "No catch," he said smugly. "Of course, you have to be willing to share the space with the company for fundraisers and other official functions, but for the most part, you're free to do with it as you wish."
Maureen studied him with calculating eyes. "Profit?" She suddenly said.
Benny smiled. "You get thirty percent."
"Forty."
"Thirty-five," Benny countered.
Maureen grinned to herself, moving to his side and hooking her arm at the crook of his elbow. "Well then, Mr. Coffin, lead the way."
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Reviews please?
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