Brody Donovan made his way along the deserted beach, hands buried deep in his pockets. It was a small, rocky patch of beach, not one that looked like it was used by sunbathers often, which Brody was perfectly fine with. That usually meant less trash, and less bacteria from other people. And Brody didn't really mind being alone.

Especially on a day like this, in a place like this. Gray sky, gray rocks, gray water. And Brody was more than content, felt at home in the monochrome. It was cloudy and cool, not threatening rain but offering the possibility. A strong breeze tugged at Brody's clothes and whipped the water into white-capped waves. Looking out at the water, Brody stopped walking and sank into a crouch, weight on the balls of his feet, arms resting on his thighs, hands twining together in front of him. He didn't want to sit or touch the ground with anything more than the soles of his shoes; he hadn't found any dying plants or animals to infect lately, and the amount of bacteria he was accumulating was getting uncomfortably high. Brody knew he was on the verge of getting sick.

The wind blew hard again, unsteadying Brody, and he immediately stood up. Crouching wasn't worth the risk of falling over, especially because Brody knew he wasn't especially graceful. If he fell, he'd more than likely hit the ground spread-eagled, starfish-style, even when blown over by the wind from a crouch.

Brody pulled his jacket (fully equipped with baby wipes, napkins, and a bottle of Purel) tighter around him. He was suddenly chilly, and he knew he shouldn't be. It was cool, but not cool enough to make Brody shiver while wearing jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, light though it may be, and his jacket. "Goddamn it," he murmured to himself. He was getting sick again. Automatically, he pulled the bottle of Purel out of his jacket pocket, squirting far more than necessary for normal people into his palm.

Normally, Zeke avoided the beach like a plague. His skin was prone to burn and he just was not keen on looking like a lobster. But he liked the ocean and the sand, even though it got in his socks and between his toes. He remedied this by kicking off his shoes and rolling up the bottoms of his jeans. It was cloudy today. He shouldn’t burn.

Of course, since Zeke never went to the ocean, he didn’t realize that cloud coverage didn’t matter. He would regret not putting sunscreen on later. Already his nose was taking on a bit of a red glow.

He crouched down and scooped up a little sand, letting it sift between his fingers. Zeke had on a normal, long sleeved white shirt with a wide neck and ‘je suis un homme’ scrawled across the front, as if it was hard to tell. Which, unfortunately enough for Zeke, it sometimes was. Zeke’s features were delicate enough to pass off as a girl, but his jawline was a little too sharp. At best, Zeke could be described as ‘of an indiscriminate sex’. It didn’t help that he tended to go incognito in a skirt and heels sometimes.

The wind carried Brody’s voice over to him, and Zeke jumped a little. He didn’t realize there was someone else on the beach with him. He looked around, caught site of the other man, and froze for a second. Zeke normally wasn’t really good with social interactions. But it would be rude to just, well, stare.

So he hesitantly walked up to the man’s side. He was never really good at keeping his balance on the sand, so he tripped a couple of times. Today he was wearing contacts and a black, button down short sleeved shirt. The wind made goosebumps raise on his arms. “Hi!” he called over the wind. “Hey, are you okay?”

Brody automatically took a step back, away from the voice, startled and not wanting to take in any more germs. Looking up from the puddle of antibacterial gel in his palm, he realized that that could be considered rude. Pasting a polite smile on his face, he quickly rubbed his hands together, disinfecting as best as he could, and also not letting the other guy see how much Purel he was using.

Not exactly sure what to say (Brody didn't exactly socialize much), he continued to smile stupidly for a few seconds, trying to figure out what a "normal" response would be. "Yeah!" he said a little too loudly. Adjusting his voice, he repeated, "Yeah, I'm fine. I, uh, just spilled too much antibacterial stuff." He held up the bottle of Purel as evidence.

He was beginning to sweat, either from being nervous talking to Zeke, or from the beginning stages of bacteria overload, or Brody's abbreviated term, "BO". Tugging his long-sleeved shirt down over his palm, he dabbed at the sweat forming on his forehead and upper lip. "I, uh, didn't think many people would be out on the beach today," he said, looking up at Zeke. He was trying to be reasonably polite, but also was trying to take the focus off himself. Too long talking to this guy, too many more germs, he'd be getting really sick again. And what if this guy was a cop or something? If he looked too sick, he could easily be mistaken for a drug addict and arrested. And even though he would be clean - he didn't do drugs, too high of a chance it would be bacteria-y - he didn't want to break with routine or go to the police station or anything like that. God, they'd probably take away his baby wipes.

ooc: Sorry this is so long, I just haven't written in a while, so it kinda exploded on me. ^^;

((It's totally okay! <3))

Zeke looked startled that the man was so startled, frowning a bit. He didn't look 'fine'. In fact, he looked sort of as if he was going to collapse at any moment. Zeke wouldn't know what someone who was on something looked like, since he was woefully naive when it came to drugs. To him, the poor man just looked sick. He put his hands in his back pockets and frowned a little in concern.

"Are you sure?" he called back. "You don't look too good." Zeke looked a little abashed. That could be percieved as an insult. "I mean, you look a little sick."

Zeke never was really good at reading other people. He took a couple of steps closer to Brody, dark gray eyes checking him over with a detached sort of worry that one gave another when they didn't know them. "Maybe you should sit down?" Sitting down seemed like it would be a good thing if you were sick. Also, not wandering around on a beach.

The man shifted subjects and Zeke shrugged. Now that he was a little closer, he did not have to shout as much. "I don't know. I like the beach better when it's not so crowded." Also, when it wasn't sunny enough to roast him.

Brody shrugged slightly, taking a half-step back. He didn't want to be rude, but he really didn't want to get too close to this total stranger. 'Cause, God, even just talking to people was rather germy. Saliva flying back and forth between them... And who knew what kinds of bacteria this guy had? "I think I'm getting sick," he responded after a moment, the polite smile disappearing now that he wasn't completely focused on it. His face reverted back to its default expression, lips drawn into a tight line, eyes not really focused on anything, mind racing.

"Uh, this may sound weird, but I can't sit down on the beach. You can call it OCD or whatever, but I'd really rather be standing." He dabbed at the sweat forming on his face again. "But the beach probably isn't the best place to be when I'm getting sick. I thought the fresh air would do me good, but..." This was a lie. He was just sick of being cooped up in his plastic-wrapped apartment, the tiny two-room-plus-a-closet-sized-bathroom flat that positively reeked of Lysol. And when he wasn't there, he was at work, sanitizing things for a living as a medical assistant at the hospital. Another small room that reeked of Lysol, with no windows. Just him, alone, with a bucket of bleach and assorted medical instruments.

He'd just needed to get out, get away from Lysol, go somewhere new with new smells, new colors (granted, the gray sky and gray water and gray beach wasn't that different than the stark white of both his apartment and his quote-unquote "office" at the hospital). And he also needed to find somewhere to dump the bacteria overload.

"You look like you're getting burned," Brody said, tapping his own nose where it looked like Zeke was getting sunburned. "Gotta be careful, clouds don't protect you from the sun." He knew this from experience with his sister, a very fair redhead who got burned through clouds, through sunscreen, through anything.

Zeke raised his eyebrows. He may be a little dense when it came to social interactions, but this guy obviously did not want to be anywhere near him. Zeke couldn't tell if it was because he was being polite, in case he was sick and didn't want Zeke to get sick, or if the man was—agoraphobic? But that didn't make any sense, because this was definitely a wide open place. He raked his fingers through his hair and tried not to be offended. This was a stranger, after all. No need to take things personally. Besides, Zeke was used to being somewhat shunned.

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Zeke in a sort of distant politesse. "It probably isn't good to be out in weather like this then. I wouldn't exactly call this air fresh. Who knows what's floating around here." Zeke wasn't referring to germs. He had a pretty normal immune system and wasn't a germophobe or whatever. For Zeke, the creepy crawlies that freaked him out were the things that possibly existed in the fourth or fifth or whateverth dimension that was out to get the souls of humans. But Zeke wisely kept his suspicions to himself, having learned the hard way that being obsessed with the supernatural wasn't exactly a great way to earn popularity points.

Zeke reached up at touched his own nose in surprise, then winced a little bit. "I should have known to bring sunscreen." He shot Brady a resigned smile. "I burn walking to the market. I'm Zeke, by the way." He held out his hand.

Fuck. Fuck. Brody couldn't think of a way to get out of this without seeming incredibly rude. He could use the "I'm getting sick, you don't want to touch me" excuse, but he'd already backed away from Zeke twice and had probably offended him already. And he couldn't shake Zeke's hand and then immediately disinfect. Unless he did it discreetly. Or he blamed it on his fake OCD.

At least he had a good reason for faking OCD, though.

Gritting his teeth, he tried to smile, and shook Zeke's hand. "Brody. Nice to meet you." He let go of the other man's hand as quickly as etiquette allowed, other hand sneaking into a jacket pocket and producing a baby wipe. Wiping his hands thoroughly, he grinned slightly, faking embarrassment. "Uh, no offense or anything, I'm just kind of weird. OCD or something."

Even if he wasn't on the verge of getting sick, he would have disinfected after touching Zeke. For one, he was a total stranger and who knew what he would have touched recently. And Zeke had just touched his hair. Kind of gross.

Well.

It was sort of interesting to meet someone who was stranger than Zeke. Kind of like one of those relieving moments where you realize that, no, you're not the weirdest kid on the block. Zeke decided that it would take too much effort to be offended, even though the guy had just disinfected his hand after touching Zeke. Zeke could understand people with OCD. He watched Monk sometimes. He got it.

Okay. But it was just a little insulting.

"Ah," said Zeke, a little unsure. "That's all right." He stemmed the urge to reassure this stranger that he was clean, that he showered every day and washed his hands on a regular basis and didn't go around rolling in filth or something. It would be a waste of breath.

"Nice to meet you too?" He still sounded uncertain. As if he really wasn't sure if it was nice to meet him, since this stranger looked far from pleased. He waved a hand, as if trying to brush away the pleasantries. "Really, are you okay? Maybe some water or tea might help. There's a little drink stand just a little ways off. I can treat you to some tea, if you want." Then again, if this guy seemed so weirdly OCD he probably wouldn't want to drink out of a paper cup that hadn't gone through laser cleaning or something. Zeke was probably completely wasting his time.

Brody kind of felt bad. This poor guy was just trying to be nice when he stumbled into the middle of Brody's own personal little crazy-fest. And he was probably wondering what he did wrong. Poor Zeke.

So he was sure he surprised Zeke when he nodded. "Yeah, I could go for some tea." He even kind of surprised himself a little. But at least there, the tea would be nice and hot and (hopefully) fresh, and there would probably be chairs he could wipe down and actually sit in.

Now, was he surprising Zeke in a good or a bad way? That's what he was most worried about. What if Zeke was just trying to be nice, and didn't actually want to go to the drink place? But whatever. If the guy didn't want to go with him, he wouldn't have offered, right? Unless he expected to be refused...

Brody offered a careful smile, trying to show this guy that he really wasn't that weird. Weird, yes, but a kind of weird that could be dealt with. Because he was craving human company for some reason. It was probably the real reason he left his apartment. He didn't just see people as bacteria wastelands today; he was interested in people for people. He still didn't want to touch them, but at least he could try to talk to them.

Zeke's eyes lit up. Okay, so maybe he was easily pleased, but Zeke also craved human company (even with his extraterretrial obsessoion) and this guy was just strange enough to hopefully accept Zeke's own uniqueness. He smiled brightly and maybe a little shyly, if only because hell, he was going to have tea with a complete stranger and that had plenty of opportunity to be 'wow, awkward.'

He was surprised that Brody agreed, though, with the whole OCD thing. It was kind of like that guy from Deal or No Deal. Hugs must terrify Brody. For a moment Zeke wondered what it would be like to get intimate with someone when one was so afraid of germs, before feeling a little abashed for even thinking about something like that. Sex lives were none of his damn business, and Zeke really wasn't interested in sex, anyway. Sometimes he wondered if he was asexual. Other times he figured he was just stunted. Intercourse just didn't seem as appealing in figuring out what was beyond the stars, beyond dimensions, beyond the human norm. What the hell. His mind was wandering in some freaking bizarre places.

"Good!" Zeke said a little enthusiastically. "It's over here." He started forward, and glanced at Brody over his shoulder with a smile, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"The tea's pretty good," he chattered cheerfully. "I mean. Not as good as the Half-Baked Bean, but I think the stand might be a branch from there?" He shrugged noncommitedly. "And hopefully it'll make you feel a little better! Flush whatever you have out of your system." It didn't help that one of his mother's was a bit of a hippy and thought green tea was God's gift to men. "You should drink a lot of water. That might help."

Oh good lord. He was babbling. Zeke smiled a bit apologetically, aware that his enthusiasm might be a bit daunting.

Following Zeke, Brody stuffed his own hands in his jean pockets, not really worried about germs there because he washed his laundry more thoroughly than the hospital washed their linens and surgical dressings. Hopefully this wouldn't be too awkward, this whole "two total strangers deciding to go get tea together" thing. But that was already a formula for awkwardness, especially when he was part of the equation.

Brody was glad Zeke was rambling, because he knew that otherwise, they'd be walking in awkward silence. Brody wasn't the best at small talk. Or really any social interaction. But maybe he could change. He couldn't change his sickness, but maybe he could change how he dealt with it.

Not that he was going to suddenly pour out his accumulated bacteria on anything or anyone he didn't like. He still didn't like being sick, but still didn't want to kill other things just so he wouldn't get sick. At least, not with his own hands. He wasn't a vegetarian or anything, but if he had to kill the animals himself, he would be.

"The Half-Baked Bean?" Brody wasn't sure exactly what that was, since he didn't exactly get out much. He'd been in town for a few months, but hadn't been anywhere except work, his apartment, and a small grocery store near his apartment.

"You haven't heard of it?" Zeke asked in surprise. He sort of operated under the idea that everyone who lived in Bayfield knew what The Half-Baked Bean was. But he supposed someone who seemed so agoraphobic wouldn't know if it. "It's—well, it's okay, I suppose." Zeke would hardly call himself a connoisseur of coffee. In fact, he wasn’t even particularly fond of the stuff. “They have good tea, at least.” Or it was good enough. “Well, okay, so actually I know squat about tea,” and who talked like he did in this day and age? “but I like it.” Which should be good enough, right?

“It’s right over there.” He pointed to a little stand in the distance, looking as if it were about to get blown over any moment. Zeke frowned slightly. “I hope they’re open.” It was perfectly reasonable for a beverage stand on the beach not to be open during downtime, but it was still the summer and there were brightly colored umbrella’s poking out in the distance. They reminded Zeke of those paper umbrellas his mother put in blended drinks during their many get togethers.

“So. Um. Do you go to school around here?” Zeke sucked at estimating people’s ages, so he usually rounded down in order to not be offensive. Besides, Brody seemed sick. Might as well give him the benefit of the doubt, right?

Brody shook his head, then realized that Zeke was walking in front of him and wouldn't be able to see it. "Uh, no. I kind of should, if I want to get my doctorate, but I'm fine with taking a break from school and just being a medical assistant right now." He realized that talking about getting a doctorate could be a little intimidating, and hoped he didn't scare Zeke away. After all, he was only like the third person he'd talked to since moving to Bayfield.

"Plus, classes are fucking expensive. I'd need a better job to pay for everything, and at least I'm comfortable with the job I have. Disinfecting all day." Brody realized he was rambling, and shut up.

"Uh, do you go to school around here? What do you want to do for a living?" He mentally kicked himself right after speaking. He sounded like some great-uncle or something, quizzing Zeke about what he was going to do with his life. And, God, he wasn't even that old. Older than Zeke, but come on. He was only twenty-six. He should know how to deal with people better, relate to people better.

"Wow, a doctorate?" Zeke sounded impressed in spite of himself. He hadn't thought that far ahead for himself, but he would probably take a similar route. For him, science was the way to go, and a doctorate would be a great way to get ahead of the game. He tossed a smile over his shoulder at Brody; if he was intimidated or harrassed by being interrogated, it certainly didn't show on his face. In fact, Zeke looked completely at ease. Discussing acedemia was interesting to him, and if that showed how dorky he was, well, whatever. "Hey, that's cool. So you work as a medical assistant? Would you be going for your PhD or MD? What kind of field are you looking to go into? Pediatic Oncology always seemed interesting to me." If only because, well, he had grown up on Loraine McDaniel, but Brody definitely didn't need to know about that dark splotch in his past.

They were nearing the beverage stand, and Zeke dropped back a couple paces to walk next to Brody. "I still live with my—parents." He had to catch himself from saying 'mothers,' because as far as he knew not everyone was perfectly accepting, and he certainly didn't feel up to defending his family again to a stranger, even though Brody seemed nice enough. "I'm taking classes now, though. Majoring in astronomy with a minor in physics. And wow—" he was about to say, 'disinfecting all day seems like it would be the perfect job for you,' but caught himself when he realized that, no, that was probably not the nicest thing to say to a person. So he finished with a lame, "that seems like an interesting job."

Brody wasn't the only person who had trouble with social interactions. Frankly, Zeke sucked, but he gave it all he got anyway.

Brody grinned. "'Interesting' wasn't what you were going to say about my job, was it? It's okay, I know disinfecting things isn't exactly the most exciting job in the world. But it suits me, so..." He trailed off, glancing up at the drink stand. At least staying on the school topic wouldn't lead to awkwardness. Hopefully.

"I'm going for my PhD. I want to - and I know this might sound weird - but I want to work with bacteria. It'll be hard, but I want to work on preventing and stopping the spread of bacteria, and figuring out as much as I can about it. Maybe that'll help my ... OCD." He paused slightly, not wanting to unload another wagonload of crazy on poor Zeke.

"Astronomy and physics, hmm? That's really cool. Really, uh, smart." As soon as he said that, he realized how stupid that made him sound. "I mean, really intellectual. What do you plan on doing with that? Becoming an astronaut or something?" Absentmindedly, he pulled yet another baby wipe out of a jacket pocket, wiping his hands off carefully.

Zeke coughed discreetly into his fist and had the decency to look abashed. A little bit of color that had nothing to do with the sun stained his cheeks. Oh hell, wasn't he slick? "It does sound interesting!" he said quickly, then felt even worse for lying. "Well, okay, maybe not that much." He offered a sheepish smile.

Zeke led him to the front of the stand. A bored looking barista had her phone out and was apprently texting someone with great urgency, chewing her gum with her mouth open. She didn't seem to notice Zeke or Brody.

Zeke's smile at Brody became a little resigned. He was used to being so easily dismissed. "No, that really does sound interesting. I haven't worked with bacteria since a couple of quarters ago, but—" He winced a bit, remembering just what happened in that awful Biology class. His classmates were talking about flying-and-exploding petri dishes for days.

"Anyway. Yeah. It's tough, but I find it really interesting. And—I don't know. Probably not. I'm sure I wouldn't get accepted as an astronaut, anyway. But," he looked a little dreamy, glancing at the sky, "I don't know. That would be pretty cool, huh?" He wanted to see if there were any other civilizations out there, what their cultures were like, how they evolved, et cetera. Zeke supposed if all else failed, he could look into cultural or criminal anthropology. Civilaztion fascinated him, even though he sometimes thought it was fucking weird.

The barista snapped her gum noisily. "Can I help you?" Zeke jumped a bit, and she shot him a disdainful look.

Brody jumped as well when the barrista addressed them - he'd expected her to be busy texting for a while longer. But he didn't keep her waiting, even though she seemed extraordinarily rude. Scanning the menu quickly, he stepped forward. "Um, I'll have a large green tea and -" he began to blush, "- and two large cups of the hottest water you have. And whatever he's having." He stepped back, turning to Zeke. "Go ahead and get whatever you want. They take credit cards, so I'll pay. And next time -" wait, who was he to assume there would be a next time? His blush deepened. "I mean, don't worry about it. I'll pay."

"Oh, come on. You'd get accepted as an astronaut. Unless you get motion-sick or something; I wouldn't want to be on a mission or something with you then." Brody shrugged, grinning. "And being an astronaut would be cool. Are there many bacteria in space?" he asked abruptly.

Zeke’s eyes widened and he looked about ready to protest, until Brody said that he could take care of it next time. That stopped him and he snapped his mouth shut, blushing because Brody was blushing. They probably made a sight to the barista, blushing at each other like they were. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, next time. That would be cool.” He cleared his throat again and looked embarrassed.

“Make that two green teas, actually. Did you know that it’s good for your skin?” This had originally been directed to the barista, but since she was unfortunate enough to not escape acne he swung the question away from her to ask the coffee maker to her right, ears red. The barista looked horribly offended and practically smacked the hot water in front of them, tossing the packets of tea next to the cups. Zeke didn’t even say anything, just grabbed his cup and tea packet (cheap!) to the little station to add in some honey. When he passed Brody, he murmured, “Remind me never to come back to this place, right?”

Brody nodded, trying (and failing) to hide a grin. Handing his credit card to the barrista, he pulled a handful of napkins out of the dispenser, trying to crumple the napkins in his hand so that he didn't have to touch his credit card as he took it back from her. God, it would be so much easier to just start wearing latex gloves, and he could get them from work. He just wasn't ready to take that big of a step in the "freak" direction.

Of course, he was probably acting more like a freak now, he realized as he tried to pick up the three cups of hot water and the tea packet. Finally balancing all three cups in his hands, he shuffled toward a table, eager to get out of sight of the barrista, who had been watching him struggle, offering only a snort of derision.

He placed everything on the table, tugging another baby wipe out of his jacket pocket. Wiping off his hands first, then the table in front of him, he tossed the wipe into a nearby trash can, then sat down, waiting for Zeke.

(OOC: Sorry I took so long! Life has been kind of busy here. Too much work.)

Zeke stirred his tea, sliding into the seat across from Brody. "Sorry, I should have grabbed one of those for you." He still looked a little embarrassed from the encounter with the barista from hell. "Jeez. Wow. That lady's really something, huh?"

He popped the lid onto the top of his cup, waiting for it to cool before he drank any. "Hey, are you feeling any better?" He tried to evaulate Brody's health by examining his face curiously. The poor guy looked like hell before.

"And—" Earlier he had been distracted by Miss Thang and hadn't been able to answer Brody's question, but now his eyes shone with excitement. "There's been evidence found that bacteria may have once lived in outer space. I—like to think that there's all sorts of living creatures out there. I even like to think that there are creatures living here that we're not aware of. Like, in the fourth or fifth dimension."

Zeke was an extraterrestrial nut. In fact, anything that had to do with 'Speculation,' such as UFOs and little green men and ghosts (oh god, those things—at least he was positive they existed now) and all of the sort—well, to him, there was no doubt they existed. He just hadn't had the opportunity to find them yet.