Benson blinks as he lowers the glass to his mouth, "What?"

"You know, your would-be date." Mordecai answers with a shrug. Benson snorts into his water and raises his eyes to him, a blush coming across his cheeks, but Mordecai holds an even gaze of his own. Finally, Benson sighs and lifts his head, pushing his glass away to put both hands back on the table. When he sees Mordecai still hasn't broken, he lets out a surprised laugh, then realising Mordecai isn't reacting, begins blushing profusely and clears his throat,

"Oh, you're not…you're not kidding."

Mordecais brows furrow, "Why would I be kidding?"

"Well, we just met and…" His voice trails off and he glances away for a moment, when a thought comes to him, "Why do you want to know?"

Mordecais lips twitch into a smile and he leans forward, "Well, considering we're going to be sharing a meal together, I just figured that we might as well get to know one another." Bensons brows furrow. He says it so easily that it makes Benson pause to think it over. Mordecai does have a point and besides, it would be both strange and partly rude to simply dismiss his offer, since they'd be mostly sitting in awkward silence for the their entire meal time.

Benson stares hard at his glass while Mordecai waits for a response, and he can almost see the gears turning in his head. After a few beats, Benson looks up at him, sighing as he slowly nods, "Alright, but don't expect me to spill my heart out. We're still strangers you know."

Mordecai waves his hands, "Of course."

With another drawn out breath, Benson launches into the story, a deep red quickly painting his entire face when he registers of what he's doing; though, he keeps talking. Mordecai doesn't interrupt once, just watches Benson make continuous hand gestures, his body language becoming more relaxed and he's taken aback when he notices Bensons eyes gradually light up with his lips splitting into an incredibly shy smile as he carries the memories to Jonathan. Benson suddenly grins when he relays an embarrassing tale of Jonathans and Mordecai bursts into giggles, noting a quiet warmth sinking into his chest; the absolute parallel to how he'd first felt coming in here. Benson just finishes a sentence with both of them laughing into their empty glasses when the same waiter from earlier comes around, holding two plates of exquisite dinners, one a green salad, the other a rich pasta. He sets their orders down in front of them, along with another full pitcher of water and the bill, and the duo give their thanks, prompting him to quietly bow out then move off.

Mordecai wipes a tear from his eye and Benson quickly comes down from his laughing fit as he looks longingly at the dish presented before him. Mordecai picks up his cutlery as Benson shakes his head, immediately feeling an aching headache come on. His eyes flicker to Mordecai who's already stabbing an olive and he sighs again, the smell of the bacon and mushroom causing him to almost salivate. The two gradually grow quiet as they eat, but Benson finds himself pausing to glance Mordecai's way. He's expecting him to suddenly look up and laugh in his face, saying he's pulling his leg and carry his dish back to his own table, or to begin rattling off a funny story he'd been saving for such an occasion. He doesn't know which would freak him out more. Still, he decides to remain silent and he brings a mushroom to his lips, chewing it slowly in hope that this…curious feeling goes away.

He's ripped from his thoughts, however, when Mordecai drops his knife and fork on the plate, pushing it beside his empty water glass. He looks at Benson who's grazing his dish, making Mordecai smile again, though, he doesn't comment and grabs for the pitcher to fill his cup. Neither speak until Benson eventually leans back from his plate, meeting Mordecai's eyes again.

"That was really good."

Mordecai grabs a piece of celery from his knife, "You sound surprised."

Benson laughs, "It's hard to find a good pasta dish around this place. How was your salad?"

Mordecai reaches for a sliver of carrot, shrugging, "It was alright. I'll admit, I've had better."

"It's a salad." Benson says flatly.

Mordecai grins, "The dressing tasted funny."

"Do you want dessert?"

Mordecai shakes his head and Benson feels something lift from his shoulders, "Neither." Before Mordecai can speak, he reaches for the check book and opens it to see the bill, using his other hand to rifle in his pocket for his wallet. As he's drawing out a few bills, he catches sight of Mordecai watching him and he stops, "What?"

"What're you doing?"

"….Paying?" He tosses the notes onto the book, "It's…what you usually do when you've-"

"I know how it works, it's just…well, I was going to pay," he admits, beginning to go pink. To his surprise, Benson snorts and continues going through for more cash, completely unfazed. He's about to re-count it all until Mordecai speaks up again, "Seriously, let me pay for this."

Benson looks at him for a moment in stunned silence, before a grin spreads across his face and he starts to laugh, making the pink in Mordecai's face glow brighter. Seeing his cheeks flushed, Bensons laughter halts and he adopts a tired voice, starting to shuffle the money, "We still hardly know eachother. I'm flattered, really. But…" He hesitates and Mordecai can tell that he's choosing his words carefully, "I mean, you're not a substitute for Jonathan."

The pink in Mordecai's face turns a deep shade of red, "W…What…?"

The atmosphere between them suddenly shifts, but it goes right over Bensons head as he signs the bill with a flourish, then closes the check book to finally give Mordecai his full attention. But Mordecai's avoiding his eyes and he feels the smile fall from his face, realising something's altered between them in that short exchange. At this, his headache takes it's cue to spread through his temple and he holds a hand to his forehead, watching Mordecai set his gaze on the water droplets from his glass rolling onto the tablecloth.

Before Benson can speak, the waiter comes back and with a strained smile, Benson hands over the bill. He nods to him then walks off, leaving them alone, and Benson clears his throat, a strange aching in his chest to fit with the pounding in his skull. He reaches into his pocket to fish for a packet of panadol then pops them into his mouth and washes them down with the rest of his water, before closing his eyes and breathing slowly out his nose to steady himself. Not once has Mordecai glanced his way.

"M-"

"That's not what I meant."

Mordecais voice is hard. Benson lets his eyes flutter open and dares a look at Mordecai, who's watching him, "I was just trying to be polite, Benson."

Benson swallows but doesn't answer right away. It's the first time Mordecai's used his name, and it sounds strange coming from him; Mordecai seems to have realised this too and he glances away for a moment, bringing his gaze back when Benson finally speaks, "I know." He shakes his head, deciding to use his name too. It only seems fair, "I'm sorry, Mordecai, I wasn't thinking when…"

"It's fine," Mordecai says, his voice softening a notch. He's visibly hurt which makes the ache in Bensons chest grow, "Just…forget it, alright? I..I gotta head back to my table anyway."

Benson blinks. The instant reminder has everything come rushing back and it hits Benson square in the face. His head's pounding, but he forces a smile and a short nod, "Right, um…" With nothing else to do, he moves to stand and Mordecai follows his lead, the tension that had come up previously melting away. He makes the strong effort to hold out his hand, with Mordecai taking it.

"Thanks for the meal."

Benson sighs. His headache's growing more painful with each passing second, but he manages to push it down to smile gratefully at Mordecai, "Thanks for helping me out." Mordecai gives a shy grin but Benson feels himself continuing, letting go of his hand to push his hair back, "And thanks for keeping me company, even though," he chuckles, "I made a fool of myself in front of the entire restaurant."

Mordecai snickers, "Who cares, these people are pretty stuck up anyway." They share a laugh before Benson shakes his head in disbelief. He makes a move to turn, and he's surprised to feel the ache in his chest gradually leaving,

"I'll see you around."

Mordecai bites back a laugh as Benson waves a little, then sets off for the doors. He stands there a moment, just watching him retreat from their table, until something suddenly strikes him hard and he finds himself reaching for his phone in his pocket and racing to catch up with him. Right as Benson puts a hand on the doors handle, he feels someone come up behind him and he whips around to see Mordecai grinning with his phone clutched in his fingers,

"Did you wanna exchange numbers? We could arrange another time to hang out if you want." Benson doesn't say anything. He's caught off guard, but Mordecai takes it as a no and he presses on, "I-I mean, if that's okay with you. I know we just met and all but, and I hope this doesn't sound weird, but I want to see you again."

Again, Benson stays mute as Mordecais eyes search him. He takes in his still figure and his expression slowly falls as he looks away, "Oh, hahah no I um…I get it. Sorry, I shouldn't of said anything…" He goes to put his phone away, but he freezes when he sees Benson put a hand in his bag to take out…a pen? His words stick in his throat as Benson reaches for his hand, his glasses slipping down his nose, and in a few quiet seconds, they both exchange numbers, Mordecai discreetly trying to shove his phone down in his pocket.

Bensons eyes are alight when they meet Mordecai's again and he laughs as he pushes his glasses back, beginning to wave goodbye for the second time, "I guess I'll talk to you soon, then."

When he catches sight of his own scrawl on Bensons hand, he feels his heart go to his throat and his face heats up again, but it goes rightly unnoticed by Benson who simply beams at him before pushing the doors open. Mordecai watches him leave, suddenly feeling lightheaded and he spins around to go back to his group. He can see they were all waiting for him when he gets back because they're all packed up and ready to go. His breadcrumb pile is still intact, but his glass is strangely empty which, truth be told, doesn't exactly have him blink an eye at. A pile of notes sit beside the breadstick basket; someone's already paid, thankfully. Rigby's in a deep discussion with Eileen but when he sees Mordecai slide into his seat, still in a dream like state, he laughs and claps him on the shoulder,

"How was the date, man?"

Mordecai frowns and shrugs him off, "It wasn't a date, dude."

"Lay off him, Rigby," Margaret says. Rigby rolls his eyes but doesn't retort and Margaret gives Mordecai an appreciative smile, "That was a really nice thing you did, Mordecai."

Mordecai sits up and leans forward to grab the rest of his breadstick, suddenly needing something to take his mind off of what he'd just felt at having Benson take his hand. Seeing Mordecai occupied with wherever his heads at, Rigby resumes his conversation with Eileen, while Margaret continues to watch Mordecai carefully. Her eyes trail down and she almost immediately sees the digits on the upper side of his hand; before Mordecai can hide it, she threads his fingers in hers and studies the number, failing to suppress a knowing smile which makes Mordecai snatch his hand away, but it's too late - she's already put it together,

Though Mordecai's ultimately drained from the evening, he still feels a small, shy smile curl his lips and the blush comes creeping back into his face. Margarets eyes are bright but she doesn't say a single word on it and Mordecai wordlessly thanks her as he digs the hand in his pocket. Eyeing the breadcrumb pile, he sweeps his other hand through it causing it to scatter across the tablecloth, before scraping his chair back and standing along with Margaret. Rigby and Eileen follow and the four make their way to the doors, the pair lagging behind while Mordecai leads the way with Margaret beside him. He has a slight bounce in his step, which he doesn't bother to hide the entire way out and Margaret giggles at his side. For a little too long, he thinks.

As they break out into the cool air, the moon high in the sky, Mordecai raises a brow and nudges Margarets arm, "Hey, Margaret?"

"Hmm?"

He grins, "Do you know where the rest of my wine went?"

Margaret flushes, though she's smiling wildly, but as she's about to reply, she hiccups and dissolves into laughter, making Mordecai snort, "I won't tell if you don't."

She holds out a cold hand and firmly grasps his digit covered one, "Deal."