xp_logs | Doug and Amanda (backdated)

Backdated to July 18. Doug and Amanda go for lunch and drinks, as promised.

Doug had insisted on paying for the first round at Finnegan's for Amanda. And if he had his way, he'd snag the check first and pay the whole tab. It was the smallest sort of gesture he could make in apology for having a complete meltdown on his teammate. And his friend, though he was hesitant about that last part. They'd had a rocky road over the past few years, and he hadn't helped matters by trying to hide what he was going through until it all spilled over on her.

For her part, Amanda was glad they'd moved to somewhere with alcohol. It possibly wasn't a good thing, using booze to drown her issues, but if she didn't have something to help her through this, she was likely to sink through the floor. Literally.

"So, um, thanks," she said at last. "For dinner and all. I wasn't sure you'd take me up on the offer."

"You're welcome," Doug said in reply. "It was the least I could do." And if he'd gone to his next therapy session and Dr. Grim had found out that he'd tried to avoid Amanda's tentative olive branch...well, that would have been a much -more- awkward type of conversation. He wasn't going to pretend that this one didn't make him want to sink through the floor as well, but it was important.

"No, it was the least I could do, after the chewing out I gave you and all." Amanda looked down at the table, toying with her beer mat, trying to not to shred it into little pieces. "'M glad it worked?"

Doug's instinct was to protest his own blame, but he took a breath and stopped. It was one of the techniques he'd been trying to use, both in therapy sessions and in the rest of his life. Dr. Grim was a firm believer in cognitive therapy - when Doug got locked in a spiral of negative thoughts, he was to stop and examine the thoughts, and where they came from. WWGGD - What Would Gus Grim Do. Doug was thinking of putting it on a bracelet as a reminder.

He placed a hand over Amanda's to still her nervous movements. "How about we both recognize that there are things we maybe could have done better. But that's in the past and we can't change it. Hindsight being 20/20 and all that."

"You'd think I'd do better with breakdowns after having so many myself." She gave him a wry smile. "Still, at least this time I didn't throw a shoe at your head."

"See? Progress!" Doug's expression brightened, if a bit artificially to try and pick up the mood a bit. "It all worked out for the best," he assured her. Indeed, without the events in the office, he might have kept trying to bottle things up and muddle on through for who knew how long.

"So how is it all going?" Amanda was happy to move on away from her role in things, beneficial or not. It had been a razor's edge for a while there and she didn't like to think what would have happened if Doug hadn't gotten help. "The retreat seems to have done some good. And with fewer of Homily's "health tonics" than I got when I was detoxing."

"I'm pretty sure that I could have had 'health tonics' if I'd wanted them," Doug mentioned, pulling a face. "Thankfully, Dr. Grim isn't so much about that sort of thing. At least in terms of therapy." The man was clearly proud of his heritage, but also equally confident in the cognitive therapy he practiced. "It's...going. Some days are better than others." The priority had been to address the issues that affected his everyday life first, but there were still times when he fell into a spiral of negative thoughts.

Amanda gave him a curious look. "How do you mean about the tonics? This Grim of yours isn't a magic user, is he?"

"Nah, no magic, just foul-tasting 'cleansers', or whatever the granola crowd likes to call them." Doug shook his head. "He's Native American, so it wouldn't surprise me if he knew some sort of herbal remedies or whatever. But he's a more modern sort." He rolled his shoulders and took a sip of his pint. "Plus there were other therapists there and all, and I'd lay money on the one who was leading the yoga classes being a hippy fruit bat."

"There's always one," Amanda agreed. "Good thing you didn't land the hippy - I can't really see you getting into yoga and incense."

"The yoga was all right," Doug observed. "And thankfully incense-free." In keeping with the overall quiet, peaceful theme of the retreat, even if the attendees were generally involved in secretive, violent work, they had asked that exercise be kept to something less competitive and hard. Especially staying away from the combat martial arts. "So how're you holding up?" he asked quietly. Not that he was changing the subject, per se, and not at all out of avoidance, but he wasn't the only one who'd been in the Genoshan lockup.

She knew what he was asking and she wasn't so much of a hypocrite to give him a glib answer. "Surviving," she replied quietly. "I'm doing extra sessions with my addiction counselor and talking about stuff. 'S just hard. Rachel and all. Seeing Moira..." Her voice caught and she reached for her beer again.

"If you need..." Doug was aware that it was very much a 'do as I say not as I do' effect, given his own lack of reaching out with his own issues, but he still needed to make the offer. Because Amanda was important to him, and he didn't want anyone else suffering the way he had.

"I will. I am." Amanda gave him a crooked smile. "I learned the hard way not to bottle, remember? between trying to off meself and going evil, I think I've learned the value of talking about things."

"Good." Doug reached over and placed his hand over Amanda's again, with a comforting squeeze. "Now, for god's sake, let's find a topic of conversation that's more upbeat, huh?"