A/N: This takes places after Pegasus has shown Giovanni the stock market but before anything else.

He could tell from the look in his eyes that it was only a matter of time before the full force of his torture came upon him. Pegasus had been very specific about when and where for this lesson, and Giovanni knew that something "special" must have been planned for him. Pegasus hadn't even tried to hide the excitement that had burst from his voice when he had called Giovanni's apartment to tell when to meet next. Pegasus' mysterious giggling most likely was an expression of his self-delight and not a tactic to deliberately tick Giovanni off, but Giovanni had never found it worth his time to ever think well of anyone and so his evening was ruined. Almost.
He could still go out and pick-up a date, and that was more than Pegasus could do.
If Pegasus noticed his continuing bad mood when they met up later that week, he gave no indication. Giovanni knew he was being ignored and it did nothing to improve his view of the situation.

They walked over to the bar, placed an order and carried their drinks over to a table that Pegasus had already staked out. He indicated that Giovanni's chair was the one facing the bar with its back towards the door.
As they drank, Pegasus would keep an eye on the door and Giovanni thought if he hadn't known better, that he was waiting for a woman.
Interesting, he thought to himself. He hoped it was a woman. He knew it wasn't, but the idea of watching Pegasus acting even more idiotic (to someone else) this evening would raise his spirits considerably. He also wondered what Pegasus' style would be. Most likely some sort of slow, antiquidated process that might get you in bed in three months, if you were lucky. If he were a more philosophical man he would enjoy watching such a display performed by one of the last practitioners of the art (he was sure) and reflect upon how dating and courtship had evolved. But Giovanni would never find the slow and steady way with women anything but stupid.
"Care to enlighten me?" he finally asked, once his musings of Pegasus' imaginary woman lost their appeal. "I'd rather get this over with." Pegasus finally stopped his frantic searching behind Giovanni and looked him in the eyes.
"I guess you do deserve to know, Gio," was the much too flippant answer he received. Giovanni gave him a hard stare in return.
"I couldn't help but notice, you see—"
"Cut to the chase. You talk too much."
"…This is what I noticed, Gio. Your people skills are atrocious."
Giovanni shrugged, "I've never cared about getting on someone's good-side."
"This is coming from the man whose livelihood depends on his popularity?"
"Since when is popularity the same as kissing up?"
"That's not what this discussion is about and you're being purposely obtuse."
"I thought we talked about this. Limit your conversation to words from this century after I've started drinking. You're a hangover by yourself."
Pegasus sighed. Giovanni obviously was not in the mood for the lesson he so desperately needed and he wasn't going to make it easy on him.
"I'll put it as bluntly as I can, Gio, since that seems to be your preferred method. If you truly want to be able to move in high society, you need to be able to get along with people. People you don't like, or find boring. And you need to be able to meet other men without trying to glare them into submission."
This last part of course did nothing to stop the glare currently directed at Pegasus himself.
"I know you have the capacity to at least pretend, Gio. Because I'm certain you don't like all the girls you pick up as much as you tell them you do."
This was an obvious fact so Giovanni gave Pegasus no credit for noticing. Giovanni knew that most of the women he picked up were also aware of this fact; if they weren't, they would annoy him. However, Pegasus did have a point that his acting skills were next to non-existent when it came to men. In his circle, he had no need to act. The only role for him was as an alpha. But now Pegasus was telling him that he'd have to pretend to be some kind of weakling like him. It was times like this he thought that he should have just asked for money when Pegasus offered him anything he wanted. But he would never back down after coming this far.
"What exactly are you planning?"
"I never thought you'd ask!" The excited tone made its reappearance. Giovanni wanted to strangle it.
"I met the most interesting man playing cards the other night here and I thought he'd be a good test for you. This is your mission: Get his phone number."
Giovanni choked on his beer and then stood up, wondering if punching Pegasus would be the correct response. It would involve touching him, after all. He was pushed back down into his seat.
"You misunderstand, my friend. Exchanging phone numbers is a perfectly normal action which most people engage in with no romantic connotations attached to it. But this is only part of the mission. I only want you get the phone number and to give it to me when you are satisfied that you've learned the lesson."
"Which would be?"
Pegasus sighed, "In business, it's always who you know and not what you know, Gio. You never know who could be of help to you later. So you need to learn how to make connections and appreciate people. When you've learned this, get the phone number and then I'll be able to introduce you into polite society."
"You call it 'polite', but now I'm supposed to be spending my time learning to lie."
Pegasus ignored him. As if Giovanni had a conscience. More importantly, the target for the lesson had finally arrived. Pegasus had met him during a card game, and had seen him in various places afterwards. The man had reminded him of Giovanni, and truth be told that was the biggest reason for the lesson. Pegasus had an insatiable curiosity when it came to people watching and interesting situations were always the most fun to observe. The feeling was almost an addiction for him.
"That's him, over there," Pegasus pointed to a corner near the front.
"The red-head broad's squinty boyfriend?"
"Your powers of observation are at once impressive and insipid," was the dry comment.
Giovanni shrugged, "Priorities," and stood up to make his way over to the man. Of course he had made note of more than just the woman and how attached she seemed to the man (final analysis: more than a single evening's work), but to inform Pegasus would be playing nice.
He took a seat near the man and woman, and ordered a drink. He heard the tail end of a conversation between the two.
"…This is my first night off in a month, so I'm just askin' why you hafta waste it with your friends. I tried to make this night about us, but I can see that you just don't care."
The woman was upset at the accusation, "Honey, it was only a few minutes!"
"Just give me some space," he dismissed her with a toss of his head, but caught her for one last kiss before she left to go back to what Giovanni assumed were the previously mentioned friends.
He heard her say to them, "He's just tired tonight, he's been working hard."
Now Giovanni was alone with the man. He had never been the type that would just sit down and start chatting; he had to have a purpose. Men had to have something he wanted to talk to them (something that couldn't be physically "persuaded" away) and he didn't even chat up women to pass the time. If he talked to one, it was because he had already had the end result in mind—even if it was just as simple as a heavy make-out session between sets (because sometimes the mood just strikes and patience wasn't his strong suit). In any case, inaction was getting him nowhere and he didn't want to spend all night stuck in a corner with squinty, so he decided to plunge ahead.
"Women," he said, trying to put as much sympathy as he could fake into his tone. "Can't live with 'em."
The man nodded in agreement, "Ever tried?"
Giovanni shook his head.
"Smart move. Let me give you a piece of advice: Don't."
So far Giovanni hadn't learned anything he didn't already know, but he had a better attitude than he had expected Pegasus' acquaintances to have.
The man continued, "All they do is screw with you. And that's all they're good for."
Giovanni just kept drinking and gave a slight nod to show he was listening. They fell silent, which would have suited Giovanni fine except he could feel Pegasus' eyes on his back and knew that he wasn't off the hook yet. So he turned toward the man as if he was interested in looking at his face (tanned, squinty eyes, messy hair) and asked, "I haven't seen you around before. You new to town?"
He just kept telling himself that as much as it sounded like one to him, it wasn't a pick-up line.
It wasn't a pick-up line.
His inner turmoil went unnoticed by the other man.
"Nah, I just don't get time off often."
"What do you do?"
"I'm a med student. I'm doing my residency right now."
Giovanni grunted something that meant "continue". He didn't know anything about the medical field, except what he had gleaned from a nurse he had a fling with once. What he had learned did not help in this situation.
"I'm studying to be an OBY/GN."
This conversation was definitely getting out of hand now. He glanced back at the guy's girlfriend to give his mind something pleasant to dwell on while he thought of a way to steer the conversation back to a normal topic, like drinking or cars or street fights.
"See something you like?"
"Her legs. You got a nice lookin' girl," Giovanni was never one to be ashamed.
The other man shrugged, "If you like that sort of thing."
He couldn't figure this guy's angle, and it was starting to annoy Giovanni.
"I like it on her. But I might just more than like. What if I take?" He was ready to just blow the whole thing off.
The other man shrugged again.
"You can have her, buddy. One's just as good as another to me. She was getting old, anyway."
Giovanni gave him a quizzical look, "You're a strange man."
The man gave a bitter laugh, "No. I'm a sane man."
Giovanni looked at the light in his eyes and knew why Pegasus had picked this man now, and he hated him for it. But he also knew what he had to do. Giving his best impersonation of someone who cared about others he said, "You must have quite the story."
And that was all it took to open the flood gates. A sad tale of woe of a man and his one love, who lived in happiness until the day she revealed her true colors and left him. In his case, it was slightly darker. She was his supervisor at the last hospital he worked at, showing him the ropes romantically as well as on the job. He was in heaven for almost a year, but it all came crashing down when he had tried to propose. She had turned him down and he gave her an ultimatum: marriage or nothing. She had laughed at him. Laughed. It had always been nothing.
"She told me that if I wasn't going to pay for her services any more, then she'd find someone else. And she did. The next day. And then I transferred."
Giovanni knew he should make a noise to say that he felt sorry for him, but he mostly felt the man was stupid. So he said nothing. The man went on.
"But, I did learn. All women are heartless and you gotta take all you can before they turn on you," he raised his glass. "Here's to you, Ivy." And he chugged the beer savagely.
Giovanni gave a curt nod, "I'll drink to the taking."
The other man put out his hand, "You seem pretty cool. The name's Brock Ueda."
Ueda, that explained the squinty eyes.
He touched the man as little as he possibly could.
"Giovanni."
That was all he ever gave because that was all anyone ever needed. Brock nodded and didn't inquire any further. Giovanni looked like the kind of man who only went by one name, and he did nothing to ever dispel any one of the impression.

After that, the conversation once again lulled as Giovanni struggled yet again to find something that didn't sound like a pick-up line in his mind. He mentally nixed, "Tell me more about yourself", "Do you come here often?", and "Was your father a boxer? 'Cuz you're a knock out." The last one was a line that he wouldn't use even if it was woman he was talking to, but it told him how desperately he was struggling. He glanced back again at the red-head to ground himself. He didn't consider it necessary to hide his movements from Brock.
"Do you want her?"
Giovanni glanced back at him, but didn't answer. Admitting it would sound desperate, but saying no would mean he'd have to pretend non-interest while Brock was in the room.
"You can have her. Or we could share, if that's more your style."
Giovanni was glad he wasn't drinking at that moment, because then he would have choked on his beer for the second time that night. Not from the suggestion itself (though it did come out of the blue) but because he somehow seemed like the kind of man who would go to bed with another man (even if there was a woman between them).
"I'll ignore that since we just met."
Pegasus wouldn't be able to say he didn't try his best. And being reminded that he'd have to answer to Pegasus about this whole thing and that it was all his fault brought his bad mood back in full force.
"Whether you say I can have her or not doesn't really enter into it," he said darkly.
Brock smiled at him, "I was just joking earlier. You seemed on edge, I thought you could use a laugh."
Giovanni took a drink at that moment and gripped his bottle with white knuckles. Oh yes, he would kill Pegasus later. Very slowly.
Brock's tone turned serious, "But really, I think we can help each other out."
Giovanni made a noncommittal noise.
"If you want her, I think I can make it worthwhile to the both of us."
Giovanni still said nothing. If Brock started to say something about "helping" him bed a woman, he'd lay him flat before he could open those squinty eyes of his. If they did open.
"I said already that she's gotten old, but I don't want to just dump her."
"Getting her on the rebound is not my idea of being worthwhile."
"Don't you worry. I have a feeling we're alike. Just trust me," he grinned at him. He motioned for the woman to come back over before Giovanni could clear up whatever mistaken impression Brock had of him trusting anyone.
The girl came over and he sat her on his lap, "Hey, babe. Meet Giovanni. He's one of my friends."
Giovanni nodded to her and gave her an approving look. He didn't know what Brock was planning, and decided to stay in a more neutral position that he would usually. He didn't want to be roped into yet another situation against his will.
"I was just thinking," Brock continued on. "That maybe you'd want to be just as nice to my friends as you are to yours."
The girl looked uncomfortable.
"It'd make me happy, baby."
"How do ya want me to be nice?"
"Giovanni is all alone tonight. It'd be a favor to me if you made him feel nice."
"B-but, Honey! What about us?"
Brock looked at her coldly, "This IS about us. If you care more about "us" than your own friends, then you'll do me the favor of getting to know mine."
She still looked unsure.
"Listen to me: Go back to the table, put on some fresh lipstick and take a few minutes to think about if you'd still like to be together tomorrow morning. Then come back and tell me your answer."
She left them and quickly went back to her friends, visibly upset.
Giovanni asked for Brock's plan with an eyebrow.
"Play it how you like when she comes back," was the only answer he received.
She arrived shortly after and only addressed Giovanni, "How about we go to a club?"
He smiled at her and nodded, "Just wait outside while I pay."
She smiled at Brock as she left, which didn't go by Giovanni unnoticed.
Brock said to him, "Do me a favor, will you? Give me a reason to break up with her."
"You need one?"
"You are a sharp one. More to the point, give her a reason to feel guilty. That should make things more interesting for you."
Giovanni gave him a smug look, "I can do more than that." He thought for a moment. "I have a feeling that you'll need me again. We should talk. Give me your number."
"With pleasure."

And it didn't sound like a pick-up line.