[Gale catches a glimpse of Dr. Raphael as he enters the cafรฉ; the man is precisely as he remembers him, sharply dressed and well put-together, with an air of confidence bordering on smug, not unlike the way Gale himself may have carried himself once upon a time. Though he and Dr. Raphael don't know one another well, they've met enough times that Gale is almost certain the other man would know him on sight if he had a few moments to piece things together, and so he angles himself away and busies himself with his book, resting an elbow against the table and the side of his face against his fist as he prepares to listen.
Amelia is, as ever, composed and direct. He's been fortunate enough to see her tease, see the occasional smile, but it hadn't taken him long to figure out that the stern, hard-edged way she presented herself hadn't been only for his benefit, when she'd been intent on their remaining strangers. It seemed to be a carefully-crafted facade, though not entirely disingenuous, and at least partly born of her desire to be taken as seriously as she herself took her work— but he had begun to think there was something more to it, as well, now that he'd had the opportunity to see her interact with a number of students and colleagues alike.
Amelia was careful. Careful of what she said, and careful not to allow herself to appear vulnerable at any given point, if she could help it. He had wondered more than once what must have happened to make her feel she had to wall herself off so entirely. People did not become so guarded by accident— but it was hardly his place to ask.
The corner of his mouth twitches against his will when he hears the dean introduce himself properly, laying it on even more thickly than Gale might have expected for someone of his reputation, and he finds himself scowling into his book when he goes so far as to call Amelia charming.
Charming? Well, yes, she certainly could be, but he needn't know that, and it was far from professional to say so, especially considering the grave topic they had to discuss. He sets his jaw as he listens further; from behind, Amelia will be able to see his shoulders go tense and square beneath his sweater, and he sits up just a bit straighter, alert.]
[The ensuing conversation begins as perfunctory and basic. The dean orders for the both of them, a sparkling water for himself, Professor Steinbeck a chamomile tea. Throughout it all, she sits with her back straight and not a hair out of place, and nothing in her expression to betray her actual thoughts.
She was absolutely being careful. Growing up, she had a temper, befitting, if not stereotypical of a redhead (which ironically, her father never had as far as she knew, despite inheriting the physical trait from him). It has gotten her into trouble more than once and thus, Amelia's life beyond college was spent sharpening that professional image to the point where the line between work and her personal affairs was very well defined.
But one can only remain immovable for so long. Dr. Raphael, has his own storied career that continues to this day and that length of time has allowed him the privilege of understanding different types of people. And much to Professor Steinbeck's misfortune, he definitely knew her type.
Soon, their talk turns to what they were both there for; the problem student. There's a review of events, a bit of back and forth...]
... Plagiarizing, as you are more than well aware of, Dr. Raphael, is grounds for expulsion.
"True, but we don't have to make a whole performance around one instance of it, Professor. Before I became a dean, I too dealt with such circumstances. Flexibility, you see, is much more beneficial to students' well being rather than being quick to punish."
[They're getting nowhere. Amelia's tea has cooled down at this point and she's tapping her finger on the table impatiently.]
Are you suggesting that I'm being inflexible, sir?
[Raphael chuckles and leans back in his seat, head shaking.]
"My dear, I'm suggesting nothing of the sort. I believe you can demonstrate flexibility if you'll allow me to expand on my side.
... You may continue.
[The dean lazily swirls the remains of his beverage in his glass.]
"Professors as fresh as you are, are so diligent. You have much to prove in order to justify your place in this esteemed university. Of course it wouldn't look good if a student in your course got away with rule breaking."
Your point, Dr. Raphael?
"Simple, my dear Professor. I can ensure your reputation remains as is. Something like this is easy to wave away with the right person passing along the right word."
[Gale's teeth clench hard enough that he feels the strain in his jaw. The university, in fact, had a zero tolerance policy regarding academic dishonesty, as most did, and to hear Dr. Raphael try to flout it so brazenly made him bristle. That Professor Steinbeck was willing to make the effort to discuss the situation and potentially help the student in question was more than most would do, and certainly more than was expected, and Gale's irritation regarding the blatant disregard for the university's policies by one of its own deans is almost enough to make him interject right then and there— but it wouldn't do Amelia any favors if he did so.
What follows, however, has him even further on edge. What, exactly, was the dean intending to ask for in exchange for such a favor? For passing on the right word? It's not the sort of thing he can imagine Amelia being willing to bargain for in the first place, but more than that, the condescending tone the the dean has taken with her has Gale gripping his book just a little too tightly. There's a cup of coffee in front of him now that he had ordered a few minutes earlier, but it may as well not be there. He's not interested in anything regarding his own table.
Tense, he continues to listen— depending on how Dr. Raphael proceeds, he may find himself forced to intervene sooner rather than later, but it is important not to undermine Professor Steinbeck's ability to speak her mind.]
[There's a flash of anger in her eyes, but she's yet to act upon it and has forced down the urge for trembling fury to show in her fingers. Her voice is barely above the level of pure ice as she replies to the dean.]
Waving away the problem sounds most convenient, but I did not work my way through this career path by avoiding inconvenience. Or in this case, turning a blind eye to it. Get to your point, Dr. Raphael.
[Dr. Raphael sets down his glass shaking his head, his expression remaining smugly placid.]
"Brevity it is then. Here's the situation, Professor."
[He leans forward elbows resting on the table, fingers intertwined and making eye contact with her.]
"Our student in question comes from a distinguished family from the upper echelons of Baldur's Gate. You know the kind, yes? Old money, titled, well-established. Generous contributors to several departments including your own. They wouldn't be happy to hear that one of their own has been reprimanded so harshly. In fact, someone would have to answer for it."
[Amelia is staring at Raphael in disbelief.]
Are you implying what I think you're implying?
[A brow of his raises up imperiously.]
"Someone here is the weakest link and I think you know who it is."
[Oh, she's mad now, mad enough to forget that Gale was there to witness this discussion and she stands up, slamming her hands on the table which attracts some attention from the other customers. Dr. Raphael, hardly looks taken aback. In fact, he looks pleased for this turn in events as Professor Steinbeck hisses back.]
You would dare wouldn't you? Do you think I was going to fold? I don't care about old money, connections, and the like. I don't respect meddlers and you can be damn certain that I will rain down repercussions. Consequences be damned, I am not going down without rightfully dragging down the rest of you.
"No need to make a scene, my dear. And is that a threat? On that grounds I couldโ"
Edited (quotation marks missing ) 2024-08-10 04:23 (UTC)
[The time for listening was through. Amelia's anger had kept her from noticing as Gale approached the table with his arms folded, and while he made every effort to remain collected, his own fury was evident in the tense set of his shoulders, the clench of his jaw, his gaze unusually hard and unblinking.]
How very fortunate that I just so happened to be present to overhear you threatening her first.
[Dr. Raphael had not needed to say the words themselves out loud— what he intended to leverage against Professor Steinbeck was crystal clear, and all present knew it.
The dean arches a brow once more, only a passing glimpse of surprise fleeting across his otherwise composed features as he leans back in his seat, fingers steepled in front of him.]
"Dr. Dekarios, what a happy coincidence. It isn't very gentlemanly of you to eavesdrop on someone else's lunch meeting."
[Gale looks unbothered by the accusation, his firm stance remaining.]
Consider I've heard you threatening a colleague for simply adhering to the university's own policies, I don't feel I'm the one whose manners need addressing. That you would ask any member of our faculty to turn a blind eye to academic dishonesty is shameful, though I've begun to think shame is not a feeling you are well-acquainted with.
[The dean gives a faint click of his tongue, shaking his head as he remains comfortably seated, one leg crossed over the other.]
"I'd heard that you were self-righteous, but it is quite something to see in action. You're Dr. Manx's discarded lapdog, aren't you? I suppose you ought to know a great deal about shame, in that case, and that your own academic integrity has been called into question. It would be truly awful if that great 'discovery' of yours is proven to be the result of someone else's work. I hardly need a lecture from either of you; this university does not run itself. Now and then, we must bend the rules— where do you think your salaries come from?"
[For a moment, Gale looks as though he's been stricken across the face, but he rallies to stand his ground.]
If we're taking mere rumor as fact, then I've heard of a great number about you that I'm sure the chancellor would be very interested to hear— it would seem this isn't the only rule you've been keen on bending.
[Dr. Dekarios' interjection shouldn't have come as a surprise to her, but when it does happen, Amelia's eyes widen slightly. In all the time she's known him so far, she had never seen him angry before and finds herself at a loss for words as he confronts Dr. Raphael directly.
A foreign type of relief floods the professor's mind, the burden of fighting this battle alone lifted. Even in the face of his own mistakes and the venom being thrown at him, Dr. Dekarios doesn't relent for her sake. She always approached every situation as a conflict to be solved by herself because that was what she expected of herself.
(He keeps extending himself for her and it makes everything what's between that much more difficult to untangle.).
Amelia swallows, composes herself, and sits down with her arms crossed.]
Well, I don't think you can accurately call me a weak link anymore, Dr. Raphael.
[Raphael gives a low and contemplative hum and crosses one leg over his knee.]
"Indeed. You've quite the fortune to have a white knight come to your aid Professor. I almost thought you would try to resolve this all by yourself."
[He was probably counting on it too. But with Gale as witness and the prospect of the chancellor's involvement, it's clear that Raphael's position is starting to teeter towards precarious.
There's little need to drag this out.]
I believe our meeting is done.
[The details of whatever happens next is negligible in the moment. What matters is that she can't be removed so easily.]
[Raphael narrows his gaze at the both of them, irritation thinly veiled. This meeting may be done, but it is clear that he is not— for as inclined as he had been towards leniency for the student's sake, now his own pride had been made part of the equation.]
"For now. I'll be happy to remind the both of you of this exchange when your insistence on inflexibility brings forth consequences, Professor Steinbeck."
[He has no doubt that there will be retaliation in the way of pulled funding, but he'll not harp on that now. He reaches for his bag and rises to his feet, looking none too pleased with the situation, and his gaze comes to rest steadily on Dr. Dekarios for what feels like a few moments too long.
He knows full well precisely which rumors the astrophysicist had been implying.]
"As for you, Dr. Dekarios, I would take great care when it comes to putting that nose of yours where it doesn't belong. Don't think I don't know a threat when I hear one. You're the youngest professor this university has ever seen on the tenure-track, I believe. It would be a terrible shame if something were to get in your way when you're so very close."
[Gale smiles thinly, and it lacks any of his usual warmth; though it takes effort, he has no interest in allowing himself to appear intimidated, and holds tightly to his composure.]
I suggest that all involved keep their noses clean, then. I can't say I'm particularly worried.
[Raphael looks at him a moment longer before letting out a brief, ominous 'hm' and turning to take his leave, leaving the two professors in his wake as the door of the cafรฉ closes behind him.
The moment he's gone, Gale exhales soundly, seeming to deflate as his shoulders drop and that steely resolve fades away, immediately softening him. He looks to Amelia, apologetic.]
You did the right thing, standing your ground. I apologize for interfering— I realize you're fully capable of fighting your own battles, but the audacity of that man, threatening your position when he didn't have a gods bedamned leg to stand on.
[That anger of his hasn't entirely faded after all, his brow furrowed.]
[Well. That happened. Amelia watches as Raphael takes his leave and only when he completely disappears from view does she inhale deeply through her nostrils and then exhales through her lips.
It was a harrowing situation and she feels like they've scraped by. Her mind needs a minute to process everything that just went down, but first... The professor straightens her back and smooths out the wrinkled fabric on her lap. And then she clears her throat.]
... Thank you.
[How else is she supposed to reply? She's used up so much energy and so much of her own anger on the dean; that less than clean ending to the conversation and the weight of Gale's contribution makes her feel spent.
And a simple 'thank you' wasn't enough. Not at all. Amelia looks away from his gaze and purses her lips.]
It's been a terrible afternoon for the both of us, even if that ended as well as it could have.
[His brows are knit with worry, even as she turns her gaze away, and he can feel the faint numbness that always comes after a surge of adrenaline starting to set in.
Surely, there were going to be consequences of some sort, but he doesn't regret stepping in. Amelia had been in the right, and Dr. Raphael's air of self-importance had always sat ill with him. Once he had begun to make threats, Gale doesn't know that he could have stayed sitting still even if he wanted to.]
Are you alright?
[A few other patrons had been looking their way, but most have begun to turn their attention back to their lunches now that the scene has calmed.]
Your place at this university is well-deserved. I hope this whole mess hasn't made you doubt that for even a moment, Amelia.
[Or more, to be honest. He has to wonder precisely what Dr. Raphael knows about certain aspects of his life, past or present, but there's no use worrying about that now.]
It must be five o'clock somewhere. A clichรฉ, I know, but for good reason.
[She takes out her phone and sends the location to Gale. And with that, she pockets it and then stands up primly.]
See you there.
[Her thoughts don't show on her face; perhaps it's a tad unusual after such an emotionally and mentally taxing confrontation. Then again, Professor Steinbeck had a knack for gathering herself to the point where one could hardly tell something happened at all.
But there's probably some meaning to her inviting Dr. Dekarios out like this. Maybe. He'll just have to see.]
[He nods in agreement, and shortly after, they part ways. It makes sense enough that she might need a bit of time to breathe after such an encounter, in addition to tying up any loose ends from earlier in the day, and he has a few ends that need some quick tending to, himself.
If he stops to subtly freshen up and run his fingers through his hair before meeting her, what's the harm?
He arrives shortly before she does, helping himself to a seat at the bar to wait, letting the bartender know he's waiting for a friend and that he'll order once she arrives. In the meantime, he takes a moment to text Tara and let her know he'll be off-campus for the afternoon and that he'll fill her in at breakfast the following morning— no doubt she'll be thrilled to hear that Dean Raphael had been forced to back down, at least for now.]
[Office duties could be done from home on her laptop and it's complete within less than fifteen minutes. It was Berna who took notice of Amelia brushing her hair and going over her face again with a fresh application of makeup. After learning where Amelia was going and whom she was meeting with, her roommate gladly interrupted and sat down to give her own touches to her face. A little more shimmer of the eyelids there, a slightly deeper color to her lips. Berna even threw an expensive burgundy silk blouse and crisp dressy black trousers for Amelia to put on.
"And lose the glasses!"
Amelia had conceded to her friend's help, mostly because she can never win against her, but also it didn't take too long in retrospect. After a quick spritz of some a light perfume of amber, musk, and vanilla, she was out the door.
It's nothing much. I'm just looking presentable.
Surely, she should feel foolish for making up excuses on the fly, but Amelia Steinbeck was prideful like that. The young woman enters through the dark wooden door of the bar and glances around for Gale and finds him soon enough. She walks up to the seat next to him and speaks up.]
[He almost finds himself doing a double-take when Amelia walks through that door— because as casual as he would have liked to have been about meeting her, he'd given up on trying to keep himself from watching the door. Some men may have let her efforts go unnoticed, but Gale feels his breath catch in a way that makes it incredibly difficult to keep the boundaries they had set in mind, just for a moment.
Inwardly, he curses himself for not having thought to change; he'd almost talked himself out of even freshening his cologne while issuing himself the reminder that he shouldn't read more into all of this, but now he's especially glad he hadn't.
She sits, severe as ever, and he offers her a smile— something he's certainly caught himself doing a lot more of since they had been spending more time together.]
Amelia. You look—
[Lovely, really. Stunning. Was he supposed to comment on how she looked? Was that too much, all things considered? He quickly reroutes, putting the focus on himself for just a moment, instead.]
There's a faint scent of cologne coming from him; it's hard to miss as she sits down and if she were a weaker person, it'd make her dizzy. Instead, Amelia's back remains straight and she casually brushes some of her hair behind her ear as if unaffected by his greeting.]
It's a bar, not a high-class restaurant. You're fine. [There's a beat; she's trying to reevaluate her response.]
We both look appropriate.
[conceal don't feel.....]
Well, in any case, we have our alone time together which is well-deserved after today's incident.
The visceral reaction he has to those words is wholly involuntary, his heartbeat momentarily deafening, and he swallows as he quickly schools his expression to keep it from showing through. Had she meant to phrase it like that? Was this—
No, she had made her stance clear. They had decided, together, to define their relationship in a different way entirely. The day had taken its toll on both of them, it would seem.]
Well-deserved, indeed.
[He exhales, his smile softening as he finds himself feeling a bit more at ease. He raises a hand to beckon the bartender over, tipping his head.]
What will you have? I'm feeling the need for something rather strong, after all that, especially if we're limiting ourselves to just one.
[Her expression is as inscrutable as it can be. Internally, however, she's reprimanding herself for inadvertently blurring the lines, but she does trust Gale to read the room appropriately.
(Even if deep, deep, down, if things were different and she wasn't such a mess...)]
I'll be savoring it since it's just the one. We're certainly not in a rush after today's excitement.
... Which again. Thank you.
[She turns in her seat to make direct eye contact to communicate the sincerity of her thanks.]
I don't know what will happen next, but it feels safe to say I got some of my way with your help.
[He offers up his order after hers, and the bartender gives the pair of them a smile and a nod before retreating to make the requested drinks.
He shakes his head as she thanks him again.]
It was my pleasure— as much as it could be, given the situation. I don't have much tolerance for bullying. I think it was the both of us pushing back that made him reconsider. Bullies don't like to be outnumbered.
[He's sure they haven't heard the last of him, but for now, he's grateful for their victory.]
Whatever comes next, I've no doubt you'll handle it well. There are more seasoned professors than you who would have been afraid to maintain their position the way you did, given his influence.
There was two of us pushing back, but you do have seniority over me as well. If I brought up my complaints against him, it would only hold so much water.
[Sighing, Amelia turns again to rest her arms on the counter.]
And to tell you the truth, I almost gave into the temptation to throw my drink at his face. He might have been counting on it.
[She rests her face in one hand and taps the surface with her other fingers lackadaisically.]
If it had been a few years earlier, that might have happened. I've mellowed out, believe or not.
[He looks caught somewhere between surprise and a laugh for a moment, settling for allowing his smile to pull to one side, amused.]
I almost think I'd have liked to see that, though I don't know that it would have been worth the consequences.
[Certainly a sight, however, and he can't say the dean doesn't deserve it, especially given some of the things he's heard. The dean is probably fortunate he hadn't lived up to his whispered reputation regarding certain inappropriate behavior in this case— Gale might not have been able to stop himself from doing something more than scolding.]
So you're saying that was the calm, relaxed Amelia Steinbeck? Well, that certainly offers some perspective. I— pardon, I should make sure this isn't anything urgent.
[He feels his phone vibrating where he had slipped it into his pocket upon her arrival, and shifts to pull it out so that he can see who's messaging him.
Almost immediately, he wishes he hadn't.
Ariel Manx Gale, exactly WHAT did you say to Dr. Raphael? What's this I hear about threats?
It is the first of several messages. Those that follow aren't nearly as mild, and he furrows his brow, setting his phone on the bar face-down.]
Fortunately, I did learn early on that being an unapologetic firebrand wasn't going to further my career options.
[Even if the dean definitely deserved it, the consequences would have fallen squarely on her. Assault charges anyone? Reality's ugly head rears itself for the reckless.
Before she can even quip back, Gale takes out his phone. In the meanwhile, their drinks are served, so Amelia partakes in her whiskey sour while not so subtly glancing over at him checking his messages and taking note of his reactions.]
[He sighs, pausing to offer the bartender a nod of thanks as he accepts his drink, the scrunching the bridge of his nose as he turns his attention back to Amelia— who he is far more interested in talking to than the woman who is currently texting him.]
It would seem word of my butting heads with our friend the dean has already reached Dr. Manx. She has some rather choice words about how that reflects on our department.
[He's prepared to handle the consequences of his actions, but he would rather be reprimanded by anyone else, quite frankly.]
A problem for another day. Given we stand on the side of academic integrity, I don't regret it for a moment.
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sunfloras2024-01-21 09:17 pm
no subject
Amelia is, as ever, composed and direct. He's been fortunate enough to see her tease, see the occasional smile, but it hadn't taken him long to figure out that the stern, hard-edged way she presented herself hadn't been only for his benefit, when she'd been intent on their remaining strangers. It seemed to be a carefully-crafted facade, though not entirely disingenuous, and at least partly born of her desire to be taken as seriously as she herself took her work— but he had begun to think there was something more to it, as well, now that he'd had the opportunity to see her interact with a number of students and colleagues alike.
Amelia was careful. Careful of what she said, and careful not to allow herself to appear vulnerable at any given point, if she could help it. He had wondered more than once what must have happened to make her feel she had to wall herself off so entirely. People did not become so guarded by accident— but it was hardly his place to ask.
The corner of his mouth twitches against his will when he hears the dean introduce himself properly, laying it on even more thickly than Gale might have expected for someone of his reputation, and he finds himself scowling into his book when he goes so far as to call Amelia charming.
Charming? Well, yes, she certainly could be, but he needn't know that, and it was far from professional to say so, especially considering the grave topic they had to discuss. He sets his jaw as he listens further; from behind, Amelia will be able to see his shoulders go tense and square beneath his sweater, and he sits up just a bit straighter, alert.]
no subject
She was absolutely being careful. Growing up, she had a temper, befitting, if not stereotypical of a redhead (which ironically, her father never had as far as she knew, despite inheriting the physical trait from him). It has gotten her into trouble more than once and thus, Amelia's life beyond college was spent sharpening that professional image to the point where the line between work and her personal affairs was very well defined.
But one can only remain immovable for so long. Dr. Raphael, has his own storied career that continues to this day and that length of time has allowed him the privilege of understanding different types of people. And much to Professor Steinbeck's misfortune, he definitely knew her type.
Soon, their talk turns to what they were both there for; the problem student. There's a review of events, a bit of back and forth...]
... Plagiarizing, as you are more than well aware of, Dr. Raphael, is grounds for expulsion.
[They're getting nowhere. Amelia's tea has cooled down at this point and she's tapping her finger on the table impatiently.]
Are you suggesting that I'm being inflexible, sir?
[Raphael chuckles and leans back in his seat, head shaking.]
... You may continue.
[The dean lazily swirls the remains of his beverage in his glass.]
Your point, Dr. Raphael?
no subject
What follows, however, has him even further on edge. What, exactly, was the dean intending to ask for in exchange for such a favor? For passing on the right word? It's not the sort of thing he can imagine Amelia being willing to bargain for in the first place, but more than that, the condescending tone the the dean has taken with her has Gale gripping his book just a little too tightly. There's a cup of coffee in front of him now that he had ordered a few minutes earlier, but it may as well not be there. He's not interested in anything regarding his own table.
Tense, he continues to listen— depending on how Dr. Raphael proceeds, he may find himself forced to intervene sooner rather than later, but it is important not to undermine Professor Steinbeck's ability to speak her mind.]
no subject
Waving away the problem sounds most convenient, but I did not work my way through this career path by avoiding inconvenience. Or in this case, turning a blind eye to it. Get to your point, Dr. Raphael.
[Dr. Raphael sets down his glass shaking his head, his expression remaining smugly placid.]
[He leans forward elbows resting on the table, fingers intertwined and making eye contact with her.]
[Amelia is staring at Raphael in disbelief.]
Are you implying what I think you're implying?
[A brow of his raises up imperiously.]
[Oh, she's mad now, mad enough to forget that Gale was there to witness this discussion and she stands up, slamming her hands on the table which attracts some attention from the other customers. Dr. Raphael, hardly looks taken aback. In fact, he looks pleased for this turn in events as Professor Steinbeck hisses back.]
You would dare wouldn't you? Do you think I was going to fold? I don't care about old money, connections, and the like. I don't respect meddlers and you can be damn certain that I will rain down repercussions. Consequences be damned, I am not going down without rightfully dragging down the rest of you.
no subject
[The time for listening was through. Amelia's anger had kept her from noticing as Gale approached the table with his arms folded, and while he made every effort to remain collected, his own fury was evident in the tense set of his shoulders, the clench of his jaw, his gaze unusually hard and unblinking.]
How very fortunate that I just so happened to be present to overhear you threatening her first.
[Dr. Raphael had not needed to say the words themselves out loud— what he intended to leverage against Professor Steinbeck was crystal clear, and all present knew it.
The dean arches a brow once more, only a passing glimpse of surprise fleeting across his otherwise composed features as he leans back in his seat, fingers steepled in front of him.]
[Gale looks unbothered by the accusation, his firm stance remaining.]
Consider I've heard you threatening a colleague for simply adhering to the university's own policies, I don't feel I'm the one whose manners need addressing. That you would ask any member of our faculty to turn a blind eye to academic dishonesty is shameful, though I've begun to think shame is not a feeling you are well-acquainted with.
[The dean gives a faint click of his tongue, shaking his head as he remains comfortably seated, one leg crossed over the other.]
[For a moment, Gale looks as though he's been stricken across the face, but he rallies to stand his ground.]
If we're taking mere rumor as fact, then I've heard of a great number about you that I'm sure the chancellor would be very interested to hear— it would seem this isn't the only rule you've been keen on bending.
no subject
A foreign type of relief floods the professor's mind, the burden of fighting this battle alone lifted. Even in the face of his own mistakes and the venom being thrown at him, Dr. Dekarios doesn't relent for her sake. She always approached every situation as a conflict to be solved by herself because that was what she expected of herself.
(He keeps extending himself for her and it makes everything what's between that much more difficult to untangle.).
Amelia swallows, composes herself, and sits down with her arms crossed.]
Well, I don't think you can accurately call me a weak link anymore, Dr. Raphael.
[Raphael gives a low and contemplative hum and crosses one leg over his knee.]
[He was probably counting on it too. But with Gale as witness and the prospect of the chancellor's involvement, it's clear that Raphael's position is starting to teeter towards precarious.
There's little need to drag this out.]
I believe our meeting is done.
[The details of whatever happens next is negligible in the moment. What matters is that she can't be removed so easily.]
no subject
[He has no doubt that there will be retaliation in the way of pulled funding, but he'll not harp on that now. He reaches for his bag and rises to his feet, looking none too pleased with the situation, and his gaze comes to rest steadily on Dr. Dekarios for what feels like a few moments too long.
He knows full well precisely which rumors the astrophysicist had been implying.]
[Gale smiles thinly, and it lacks any of his usual warmth; though it takes effort, he has no interest in allowing himself to appear intimidated, and holds tightly to his composure.]
I suggest that all involved keep their noses clean, then. I can't say I'm particularly worried.
[Raphael looks at him a moment longer before letting out a brief, ominous 'hm' and turning to take his leave, leaving the two professors in his wake as the door of the cafรฉ closes behind him.
The moment he's gone, Gale exhales soundly, seeming to deflate as his shoulders drop and that steely resolve fades away, immediately softening him. He looks to Amelia, apologetic.]
You did the right thing, standing your ground. I apologize for interfering— I realize you're fully capable of fighting your own battles, but the audacity of that man, threatening your position when he didn't have a gods bedamned leg to stand on.
[That anger of his hasn't entirely faded after all, his brow furrowed.]
no subject
It was a harrowing situation and she feels like they've scraped by. Her mind needs a minute to process everything that just went down, but first... The professor straightens her back and smooths out the wrinkled fabric on her lap. And then she clears her throat.]
... Thank you.
[How else is she supposed to reply? She's used up so much energy and so much of her own anger on the dean; that less than clean ending to the conversation and the weight of Gale's contribution makes her feel spent.
And a simple 'thank you' wasn't enough. Not at all. Amelia looks away from his gaze and purses her lips.]
It's been a terrible afternoon for the both of us, even if that ended as well as it could have.
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Surely, there were going to be consequences of some sort, but he doesn't regret stepping in. Amelia had been in the right, and Dr. Raphael's air of self-importance had always sat ill with him. Once he had begun to make threats, Gale doesn't know that he could have stayed sitting still even if he wanted to.]
Are you alright?
[A few other patrons had been looking their way, but most have begun to turn their attention back to their lunches now that the scene has calmed.]
Your place at this university is well-deserved. I hope this whole mess hasn't made you doubt that for even a moment, Amelia.
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I need a drink.
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I could use one, myself.
[Or more, to be honest. He has to wonder precisely what Dr. Raphael knows about certain aspects of his life, past or present, but there's no use worrying about that now.]
It must be five o'clock somewhere. A clichรฉ, I know, but for good reason.
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[There's an awkward pause, a lull after his reply to her. And then Amelia holds up her index finger.]
One.
[She continues not to make eye contact with Gale, but her cheeks are very visibly turning pink.]
You can have one drink with me.
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The limitation is fair, he supposes, given what had happened the last time they drank together. Boundaries, and all.]
Of course. Just one— at the establishment of your choice.
[That seems more than fair.]
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[She takes out her phone and sends the location to Gale. And with that, she pockets it and then stands up primly.]
See you there.
[Her thoughts don't show on her face; perhaps it's a tad unusual after such an emotionally and mentally taxing confrontation. Then again, Professor Steinbeck had a knack for gathering herself to the point where one could hardly tell something happened at all.
But there's probably some meaning to her inviting Dr. Dekarios out like this. Maybe. He'll just have to see.]
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[He nods in agreement, and shortly after, they part ways. It makes sense enough that she might need a bit of time to breathe after such an encounter, in addition to tying up any loose ends from earlier in the day, and he has a few ends that need some quick tending to, himself.
If he stops to subtly freshen up and run his fingers through his hair before meeting her, what's the harm?
He arrives shortly before she does, helping himself to a seat at the bar to wait, letting the bartender know he's waiting for a friend and that he'll order once she arrives. In the meantime, he takes a moment to text Tara and let her know he'll be off-campus for the afternoon and that he'll fill her in at breakfast the following morning— no doubt she'll be thrilled to hear that Dean Raphael had been forced to back down, at least for now.]
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"And lose the glasses!"
Amelia had conceded to her friend's help, mostly because she can never win against her, but also it didn't take too long in retrospect. After a quick spritz of some a light perfume of amber, musk, and vanilla, she was out the door.
It's nothing much. I'm just looking presentable.
Surely, she should feel foolish for making up excuses on the fly, but Amelia Steinbeck was prideful like that. The young woman enters through the dark wooden door of the bar and glances around for Gale and finds him soon enough. She walks up to the seat next to him and speaks up.]
Gale. Good evening.
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Inwardly, he curses himself for not having thought to change; he'd almost talked himself out of even freshening his cologne while issuing himself the reminder that he shouldn't read more into all of this, but now he's especially glad he hadn't.
She sits, severe as ever, and he offers her a smile— something he's certainly caught himself doing a lot more of since they had been spending more time together.]
Amelia. You look—
[Lovely, really. Stunning. Was he supposed to comment on how she looked? Was that too much, all things considered? He quickly reroutes, putting the focus on himself for just a moment, instead.]
I'm afraid I'm woefully underdressed.
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There's a faint scent of cologne coming from him; it's hard to miss as she sits down and if she were a weaker person, it'd make her dizzy. Instead, Amelia's back remains straight and she casually brushes some of her hair behind her ear as if unaffected by his greeting.]
It's a bar, not a high-class restaurant. You're fine. [There's a beat; she's trying to reevaluate her response.]
We both look appropriate.
[conceal don't feel.....]
Well, in any case, we have our alone time together which is well-deserved after today's incident.
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Thump.
The visceral reaction he has to those words is wholly involuntary, his heartbeat momentarily deafening, and he swallows as he quickly schools his expression to keep it from showing through. Had she meant to phrase it like that? Was this—
No, she had made her stance clear. They had decided, together, to define their relationship in a different way entirely. The day had taken its toll on both of them, it would seem.]
Well-deserved, indeed.
[He exhales, his smile softening as he finds himself feeling a bit more at ease. He raises a hand to beckon the bartender over, tipping his head.]
What will you have? I'm feeling the need for something rather strong, after all that, especially if we're limiting ourselves to just one.
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[Her expression is as inscrutable as it can be. Internally, however, she's reprimanding herself for inadvertently blurring the lines, but she does trust Gale to read the room appropriately.
(Even if deep, deep, down, if things were different and she wasn't such a mess...)]
I'll be savoring it since it's just the one. We're certainly not in a rush after today's excitement.
... Which again. Thank you.
[She turns in her seat to make direct eye contact to communicate the sincerity of her thanks.]
I don't know what will happen next, but it feels safe to say I got some of my way with your help.
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[He offers up his order after hers, and the bartender gives the pair of them a smile and a nod before retreating to make the requested drinks.
He shakes his head as she thanks him again.]
It was my pleasure— as much as it could be, given the situation. I don't have much tolerance for bullying. I think it was the both of us pushing back that made him reconsider. Bullies don't like to be outnumbered.
[He's sure they haven't heard the last of him, but for now, he's grateful for their victory.]
Whatever comes next, I've no doubt you'll handle it well. There are more seasoned professors than you who would have been afraid to maintain their position the way you did, given his influence.
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[Sighing, Amelia turns again to rest her arms on the counter.]
And to tell you the truth, I almost gave into the temptation to throw my drink at his face. He might have been counting on it.
[She rests her face in one hand and taps the surface with her other fingers lackadaisically.]
If it had been a few years earlier, that might have happened. I've mellowed out, believe or not.
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I almost think I'd have liked to see that, though I don't know that it would have been worth the consequences.
[Certainly a sight, however, and he can't say the dean doesn't deserve it, especially given some of the things he's heard. The dean is probably fortunate he hadn't lived up to his whispered reputation regarding certain inappropriate behavior in this case— Gale might not have been able to stop himself from doing something more than scolding.]
So you're saying that was the calm, relaxed Amelia Steinbeck? Well, that certainly offers some perspective. I— pardon, I should make sure this isn't anything urgent.
[He feels his phone vibrating where he had slipped it into his pocket upon her arrival, and shifts to pull it out so that he can see who's messaging him.
Almost immediately, he wishes he hadn't.
Ariel Manx
Gale, exactly WHAT did you say to Dr. Raphael? What's this I hear about threats?
It is the first of several messages. Those that follow aren't nearly as mild, and he furrows his brow, setting his phone on the bar face-down.]
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[Even if the dean definitely deserved it, the consequences would have fallen squarely on her. Assault charges anyone? Reality's ugly head rears itself for the reckless.
Before she can even quip back, Gale takes out his phone. In the meanwhile, their drinks are served, so Amelia partakes in her whiskey sour while not so subtly glancing over at him checking his messages and taking note of his reactions.]
Mind if I ask what it is? Bad news?
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It would seem word of my butting heads with our friend the dean has already reached Dr. Manx. She has some rather choice words about how that reflects on our department.
[He's prepared to handle the consequences of his actions, but he would rather be reprimanded by anyone else, quite frankly.]
A problem for another day. Given we stand on the side of academic integrity, I don't regret it for a moment.
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