Dex @benjpoindexter - Tumblr Blog

HI OLD MAN, I got us matching keychains and id you don’t take it ill combust and turn into glitter

@purplefangedmenace

Rayet, I'll take it. Don't turn into glitter..

YAYAYAYAAYAY thanks old man, you’ll love it yours has a mini knife and mine has a mini chainsaw 🥹

#aiming for the money #Dex's daughter #daredevil rp #marvel rp #marvel rp account #mcu rp #mcu rp blog #rp blog #marvel rp blog

I'll keep it on my belt loop :)

Thank you, Rayet. That's very thoughtful of you.

HI OLD MAN, I got us matching keychains and id you don’t take it ill combust and turn into glitter

@purplefangedmenace

Rayet, I'll take it. Don't turn into glitter..

I hate messes, and I hate repair work more.

#dex says hello #daredevil rp #marvel rp #marvel rp account #mcu rp #mcu rp blog #rp blog #marvel rp blog

ceruleanheaven

[looking at people younger than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at people older than me] you have your whole life ahead of you [looking at myself] its over

The way you make your coffee is terrible.

@benjpoindexter

How would you know?

I tried it, and it was disgusting.

How do you know what i put in my coffee?

I saw.

The way you make your coffee is terrible.

@benjpoindexter

How would you know?

I tried it, and it was disgusting.

xxxarcher-the-galacticxxx

— 𝗔 𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗣 .

[ open rp ! ]

!! TW: Gun injury, slight description of death

Archer enters her apartment, prepared to collapse on her bed and fall asleep, but any tiredness leaves her when she sees Dex. She raises her hand to form a fireball, but the spark forming in her palm dissapates when she sees the blood.

"You're bleeding."

She curses herself silently for stating the obvious.

"Sit down, I have bandages."

Dex held back a laugh at the obvious statement and pressed down on his wound more firmly. He staggered around the apartment, nearly tripping while pulling a chair out to sit in.

"I can help myself, jus' need the bandages."

He carefully watched Archer, not fully trusting her yet, despite her immediately offering to help.

#bullseye!

🖕🏻🖕🏻

@frankcastle-79

😐

#aiming for the money

Mr. Meowgi found his way into my apartment.

I'm not against it. Fluffy creature really enjoyed the food I bought.

manwithout-love

I’m surprised you even like animals.

I don't. They're messy. But Mr. Meowgi is trained well, so I tolerate him.

manwithout-love

Maybe instead you should try gold fish! They aren’t that bad of a pet!

#//so sorry for the late reply dawg 🙏🙏

Fish die easy.

Mr. Meowgi found his way into my apartment.

I'm not against it. Fluffy creature really enjoyed the food I bought.

manwithout-love

I’m surprised you even like animals.

I don't. They're messy. But Mr. Meowgi is trained well, so I tolerate him.

distant-star-butch

uhh, can i love you in a way that's little gross and insane

Open rp -

TW : mentions of abuse, anxiety, PTSD

The web hit Dex in the face as soon as he stuck his head through the open window. He cursed and clawed it off his face, the rest of him coming stumbling into the familiar apartment. He'd been on a small walk to treat himself for a hard day at work, his throwing knives casually sheathed in his belt, covered by the black jacket he always adorned.

"Damn it, Rayet," Dex hissed, but his annoyance faltered upon seeing the state of Lu. He stared at her, analyzing. He tilted his head a smidgen, eyebrows scrunching in a feeling unknown to him. Concern? No, he'd always faked it. Right? "'S alright, Lu."

Dex fidgeted uncomfortably. He blinked thrice for good luck and took five steps closer to the couch to stare down at Lucile. He didn't know how to do this..how to comfort without a script—without a guide. But he could try. Good guys always try.

"What's wrong?" He asked, keeping his hands where Lu could see them. It was a habit, keeping his hands in view to minimize fear of him. "You must be havin' a hard day to be shut up like this, huh? No responses to my messages. Are you even eating?"

One glance around the apartment told him all he needed to know. Dex immediately strode off to the kitchen, pulling off his jacket to push his shirt sleeves up. "You need to eat. Need to clean this place. What d'ya wanna eat?"

Lucile tried not to cry when Dex asked her what was wrong but she couldn’t help it, tears were already spilling down her face as she nodded slightly following the older man to the kitchen. The young woman watched paused for a moment Lucile’s body trembling as she tried to find the words, no matter what it was near impossible to even speak.

“Something easy, you don’t gotta cook for me Dex.” She spoke softly her voice trembling as she sat down on the stool at the island-counter, Lucile finally started to find her words looking down at her hands. “Didn’t mean to ghost you, I was just ..”

The young woman looked up watching at the man as he started searching around the kitchen, making his way around it like this was natural. Sighing softly Lu looked back down and nestled into her clothes, they were worn as if she hasn’t bothered to change them in a few days like life was on pause for her.

“I’m scared Dex. I haven’t been scared in years, not even when I’m fighting for someone else’s life.. I..” Lucile paused trying to stop the tears that rolled down her tears, there was no hiding the tremble her voice or how her hands shook. “don’t know where to start or how to tell you, I can’t have you looking at me differently over it.”

Dex remained silent, a slight frown crossing his features as he heard Lucile begin to cry. He hated the sound of it. Of Lucile feeling upset. He rummaged through the drawers and cabinets for a suitable pot, then searched the pantry for ingredients he could use.

"It's not an offer. I'm going to make something for you to eat, whether you do eat it or not," Dex replied curtly. "..I'm not angry you never texted back, Rayet. I'm—concerned."

He spun a spatula around in his hand, organizing the ingredients he'd found that was somehow supposed to become French toast. Dex cracked four eggs into the bowl, then tapped some cinnamon, vanilla extract, and powdered sugar in. As he whisked the stuff together, he watched Lu carefully, observing every change in expression and movement.

Dex continued making the batter, taking out milk from the fridge to pour it in as well. When Lucile started talking again, he paused, leaning up against the other side of the island to listen like a worried father. "Take a breather, first," Dex mumbled, imitating the breathing exercises he was taught in therapy. "Then tell me. Whatever you can. I got no room to judge."

She took a deep brea in before slowly breathing it out, taking a moment to collect her feelings and find the worlds that kept slipping away. Lucile looked up at Dex nodding slightly, she found comfort in his presence something that not even her own father could provide.

“My father, he went to jail a few years again for assault and child abuse some other charges ..” Lu’s voice already started to shake but she continued, trying to avoid sounding pathetic yet a sob ripped itself from her regardless. “and, he’s got released .. this month on good behaviour I wasn’t even told.”

She paused trying to continue the deep breaths and relax as if it didn’t feel like entire world was closing down on her, the weight crushing her chest making it impossible to get a steady breath out. Shaking her head Lucile rested her head into her hands, hiding the tears that streamed down her face both embarrassment and fear weighing her down.

“I ..I only found out because I saw him, I saw him at the store the one that sells the good sushi.” She paused and sighed softly before wiping her tears again, just for more to fall like a broken spout. “I can’t, i can’t do this. The living in fear, the last time I saw him I was left with a busted lip and more bruise than I could count.”

Whatever light was in Dex's face immediately fell, replaced by simmering, murderous anger. Not at Lucile, but that man who was supposed to be her father. Dex wasn't new to abuse. He'd gone through a lot of it himself as a kid before his parents died. Dex crossed his arms and tilted his head down, his fingers tracing the patterns on the island to soothe himself from outwardly expressing his rage. Lucile needed a calming presence at the moment.

"That man hurt you," Dex stated, his voice clipped and words pushed out through gritted teeth. He knew it by the way she heaved for air, as if the mere mention of him caused her great trouble. Dex scratched the back of his neck, turning to grab a napkin from the side to give to Lucile. He breathed in deeply himself, releasing his fists from the white-knuckle hold they were in, his nails leaving cresent moons in the flesh of his palms.

Upon hearing Lu had been in the same store as him, he looked the young woman up and down, trying to find any sign of injury. He frowned, hesitantly rounding the island to sit next to her. To offer a shoulder if Lucile wanted it. "You don't need to be scared. You've got me, Rayet. If he tries to hurt you, I'll put a knife through his head."

Lucile nodded and sniffled softly before taking the tissue and wiping away her tears, she dried the tears and took a deep breath once she’d calm down slightly Lu leaned against Dex. He made her feel safer she knew that he’d never do anything like that to her, shifting slightly she closed her eyes and started relaxing.

“Thank you old man, but you don’t gotta do that for me. Just being here helps, I mean you’re making me good and letting me cry.” Taking a deep breath she smiled slightly at the older man, Dex eased some of the weight on her chest. Lucile sighed softly mostly at herself, opening her eye and looking down at her stained pj pants. “Aren’t I a sight for sore eyes ?”

Lucile joked sarcastically her way of letting Dex know that she’d be okay, leaning against him for a moment longer she sat up properly and shook her head. “You know, when I saw him and all of those memories came back, ones I didn’t even remember i just .. I wished someone would’ve killed him in prison, or that I fought back as a kid..”

Dex gently rested his hand on Lu's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He let go and allowed Lu to cry as much as she wanted. He was here. He would help. Dex believed that through and through. He huffed out in fake annoyance at the nickname for him.

"Old man? Really?" He managed a smile he hoped was sincere. "I'm..glad you feel that way. I get concerned, Lu. I—I like when the people I know are safe and alright."

Dex didn't mention it was his crippling abandonment issues or his BPD. He chuckled at Lu's little joke and hummed, replying with the same lightness. "You've got all the guys after you, Rayet. Might have to take that bar exam early."

Dex hopped off the seat after Lucile sat up, rounding the corner again to tend to the French toast batter. He put the ingredients away to maintain a clean space, then swiveled around to turn on the stove with the pan on top of the fire. He nodded along to Lu's words, listening while working. Dex paused for a moment.

"You were a child who was scared. It's not your fault. That bastard's got it comin' to him. If it isn't me, it's gonna be the scales."

“I think I’ll always be safe when you’re in my life Dex, I mean you’re here for me so how could I not be?” Lucile reassured him softly with a small smile peering while she watched as he tended to the food, she didn’t even realize how hungry she was till he started cooking. “Sometimes I think I’m still that little girl, the one too scared to do anything .. but I think I’ll make it.”

Lucile got up and walked to the fridge there wasn’t much, but she pulled out a bottle of water and grabbed one for Dex as well placing it by the stove for him. She stretched and cracked a few joints back into place, patting his shoulder before going back to her seats finally starting to feel some relief.

“I just can’t believe it, I mean I just someone told me. Can you believe it, good behaviour?” She asked softly as if she couldn’t believe it herself. “He nearly killed his own lover, and harmed his kids .. I mean he’d break in and ..”

She paused and looked down closing her hands together taking a deep breath, following the breathing exercise that Dex showed her trying to stay calm. “I’m just glad, I don’t think he knows where I live and I keep my socials private .. not to mention I have you.”

Dex smiled and nodded, agreeing with Lucile. He thought she was a strong woman, someone capable of handling themselves. Warmth unfurled in his chest, and he smiled wider. For the first time, Dex felt truly appreciated by another human. "You'll make it alright, don't worry."

Dex dipped the first slice of bread into the sweet batter, grimacing at the way the eggs left a sticky residue on his hands. He dropped the slice into the pan and backed over to the sink, washing his hands at least four times.

"Rayet, you're soaking the bread in the batter. I'll flip the bread in the pan," Dex ordered quietly, opening his water bottle to take a long sip. When done, he haphazardly flung the bottle behind him, and it landed perfectly on the counter.

Dex clenched his jaw and flipped the golden bread over. "He's not getting near you. You protect yourself just fine. I'll give you a few knives if you want 'em. I got extras laying around at my place."

Lucile nodded slightly making her way to the kitchen, pausing to wash her hands before starting to dip the bread placing them on a plate for him to access. It was an oddly calming to activity, Lucile was finally starting to breath normally with a small smile on her face.

“You’d do that? Lends me some for your knives?” She asked softly smiling at his kindness, as if he was making her day. “I wouldn’t mined that, maybe you could give me some lessons on accuracy?”

The young woman looked over at Dex her eyes filled with a looked of hope, shining as bright as the stars as she cracked a genuine smile. Lucile subconsciously continued to dip the bread till they had enough pieces, humming a tune under her breath.

"Of course. You've gotta protect yourself," Dex reasoned, shrugging as if they were discussing the weather. He grabbed an empty plate and began piling the finished toasts onto it, then tended to the new ones Lu put on the pan. Dex quirked a brow at Lu's suggestion and glanced at her. He wanted to say no, but her smile did him in. "Fine, yeah, I can teach you. Just..nothin'. Nevermind."

He swallowed down the words he wanted to say. Don't be like me. Don't turn out like me.

@benjpoindexter

Please come retrieve your weapons.

You kept them? I'll come get them now.

Yes, and?

Dex casually entered the New York Office that the mayor sectioned off for the CIA, disguised in a security guard outfit, taken from a guard who was on their smoke break in the back. He sauntered into the elevator with his notebook in hand where Alcott's office number was written in red ink on the inside of the cover.

He rode the elevator to Alcott's floor, spinning a pen around his index and middle finger mindlessly. When the elevator stopped on the correct floor, Dex walked right out, heading up to Alcott's cubicle with a lazy grin on his face. He had a pep in his step—a slight hum on his lips. Dex hadn't ever seen Alcott face to face. Didn't have the confidence before that, despite his arrogance.

"Agent Alcott," Dex sang out, dramatic as ever. He tossed the pen in his hand right to the wall past Alcott's face. "You have something for me."

Alcott really just wanted to get some work done, he wasn't expecting Ben or Dex as he so kindly referred to him as to show up to his place of work. Mostly because it would get him arrested on sight but also because they've never had that kind of relationship...or that's what he thought. He didn't recognize his voice but he did recognize the name he used. Most people in the office referred to him as "Mini Alcott" or "Mama's boy." Cattel couldn't remember the last time anyone in the building called him anything else. "Dex?" He whispered before looking around. He was most worried about his mother and the teasing of it all. Dex could handle himself.

Dex stayed quiet until he reached Alcott's cubicle, standing right behind him with a smile that reached ear to ear. Smeared, cleaned off blood decorated his cheek, a sad attempt to hide the fact he'd gone and murdered someone inside the building. He removed the security guard hat and placed it on Alcott's desk, maneuvering into the limited space to lean up against the desk like they were good friends.

"Alcott," he mimicked, feeling giddy. "You wanted me here. Don't act surprised."

Dex tilted his head in the direction of the crate holding his weapons, then he glanced down at Alcott, mentally cataloging anything he could. From the agents hair to his clothing, Dex filed everything away for later. He waved his notebook around in the air like it was a rare item.

"Found you with this."

"Where the fuck did you get that?" He tries to snatch it away.

Dex, the vigilante that leaves notes in blood for him and pesters him constantly is not at his place of work, having no care to be stealthy

Dex swiftly moved his hand away before Alcott could reach it, then tucked it away into the back pocket of the security guard uniform. He gazed around the empty office, picking up a few pens to throw if anyone dared walk in.

"Made it myself. You're front and center, Alcott."

Dex tried to get a peek at the work on Alcott's computer, whistling along to a Smiths song he listened to on the way to the office.

"Are you in love with me or something?" He hides the tabs before turning towards Poindexter. "You didn't have to come here."

Dex ignored the first question with a roll of his eyes. He pouted when Alcott hid the tabs, muttering something under his breath before hurling a pen at the agents keyboard to break it.

"Like I said: your words, not mine. Figured I'd stay longer, though. Not every day I get to see you."

Dex probably should've chosen his words better, but he didn't care. He placed the rest of the pens back into the cupholder when he was sure no one else was going to come into the office. It was right on schedule, too. He knew perfectly well just how long Alcott worked.

"You're all alone. Again."

"I was." Thankfully his mother already went home and the nightshift isn't much acquainted with him.

"You don't have to see me." Alcott suggests.

"I dont understand your obsession with me."

"I wanted to," Dex countered back, pushing off the desk to sift through the crate knives sitting on the other side. "I knew you wouldn't arrest me."

Dex picked up one of the knives and spun it around in his hand, testing the weight of it. He replaced one of the knives on his belt with the one he just picked up, his brow raised as he looked at Alcott through them.

"You appreciate the work I do. You pick up on my clues all the time without havin' to contact you."

"Thats because they aren't clever." Okay maybe they were, but Cattell wasn't going to give him that.

He peers at the knife Dex placed down. "Where'd you get that one?" He reaches for it

Dex blinked, another smile pulling onto his lips at the retort. He liked Alcott's wit. "If they weren't, half of the CIA would understand me."

"But they don't. They don't see me the way you do, Alcott." He walked back over into the cubicle to lean against the desk again.

He watched Cattell mess with the knife he set down and shrugged. "Military weapons store in Queens. You like it?"

"I'm not sure i do understand you...at least not most of them time." He flips around the blade

"I do... it's nice. I'll check that place out." He takes the knife and places it under his monitor, next to a wobbly toy beaker.

Alcott's gaze drifts to Dex's belt filled with weapons. Anything special or was it just the weapons of the dead guards.

"You try," Dex said, almost uncharacteristically soft. He glanced down at his bruised knuckles, a hint of self-contempt in his eyes before he blinked it away.

Dex moved some papers behind him so he could sit properly on the desk. "You can keep that one. Use it to do some good."

Of course, Dex's version of good wasn't exactly..the proper kind. He leaned back more at seeing Alcott analyze his belt, letting the overhead lights shine on it. He'd replaced it with his own, plus some of the guards' batons.

Alcott completely ignores the comment. Dex was a bit to accurate.

"I will." He continues to stare. He presses the back of his chair to the desk, facing the criminal fully now.

"How long do you intend on staying?"

Dex shrugged. He gave Alcott a look up and down, then focused on the floor, thinking. He could leave now and make sure Alcott gets home safe. He could stay and keep bothering the agent.

"As long as you are. I got all the time in the world, Alcott."

"I was planning on leaving." He wasn't. His mother just left a few minutes before Dex arrived and she tends to sit in her car for a while. If he was forced to see his mother more than the nine hours they have at work he'd kill himself.

Dex saw right through Alcott's words. He noticed the slight furrow in his brow, the subtle distaste at every word, as if it was wrong. It was wrong. Dex just tilted his head, his brows raising slightly.

"Liar. You leave only after the other car does. An hour later."

"Coincidence." He fiddles with the stitches on his trousers, watching how to stitches were made.

It wasn't a surprise Dex was watching him at all. Dex wasn't has stealthy as he thought. Or maybe Alcott was always looking for him.

"You're lying again," Dex commented flatly, his expression neutral. He shifted on the desk, masking the way his back ached with each breath he took. Dex refused to take his medication. Hence, his spine injury pain flared up.

He decided to bite the bullet and ask away. "That's your mom. You hate her, don't you?"

"No. Its just a colleague i dislike." How could dex see right through him. Wasn't he a good enough liar?

#//alcott he stalks you 😭 lock in

Without saying a single word, Dex simply turns his gaze to the office right next to Alcott's cubicle. He slowly looked back at Alcott through his brows.

"Now you're just saying the truth without really saying it. Alcott, you can't trick me."

@benjpoindexter

Please come retrieve your weapons.

You kept them? I'll come get them now.

Yes, and?

Dex casually entered the New York Office that the mayor sectioned off for the CIA, disguised in a security guard outfit, taken from a guard who was on their smoke break in the back. He sauntered into the elevator with his notebook in hand where Alcott's office number was written in red ink on the inside of the cover.

He rode the elevator to Alcott's floor, spinning a pen around his index and middle finger mindlessly. When the elevator stopped on the correct floor, Dex walked right out, heading up to Alcott's cubicle with a lazy grin on his face. He had a pep in his step—a slight hum on his lips. Dex hadn't ever seen Alcott face to face. Didn't have the confidence before that, despite his arrogance.

"Agent Alcott," Dex sang out, dramatic as ever. He tossed the pen in his hand right to the wall past Alcott's face. "You have something for me."

Alcott really just wanted to get some work done, he wasn't expecting Ben or Dex as he so kindly referred to him as to show up to his place of work. Mostly because it would get him arrested on sight but also because they've never had that kind of relationship...or that's what he thought. He didn't recognize his voice but he did recognize the name he used. Most people in the office referred to him as "Mini Alcott" or "Mama's boy." Cattel couldn't remember the last time anyone in the building called him anything else. "Dex?" He whispered before looking around. He was most worried about his mother and the teasing of it all. Dex could handle himself.

Dex stayed quiet until he reached Alcott's cubicle, standing right behind him with a smile that reached ear to ear. Smeared, cleaned off blood decorated his cheek, a sad attempt to hide the fact he'd gone and murdered someone inside the building. He removed the security guard hat and placed it on Alcott's desk, maneuvering into the limited space to lean up against the desk like they were good friends.

"Alcott," he mimicked, feeling giddy. "You wanted me here. Don't act surprised."

Dex tilted his head in the direction of the crate holding his weapons, then he glanced down at Alcott, mentally cataloging anything he could. From the agents hair to his clothing, Dex filed everything away for later. He waved his notebook around in the air like it was a rare item.

"Found you with this."

"Where the fuck did you get that?" He tries to snatch it away.

Dex, the vigilante that leaves notes in blood for him and pesters him constantly is not at his place of work, having no care to be stealthy

Dex swiftly moved his hand away before Alcott could reach it, then tucked it away into the back pocket of the security guard uniform. He gazed around the empty office, picking up a few pens to throw if anyone dared walk in.

"Made it myself. You're front and center, Alcott."

Dex tried to get a peek at the work on Alcott's computer, whistling along to a Smiths song he listened to on the way to the office.

"Are you in love with me or something?" He hides the tabs before turning towards Poindexter. "You didn't have to come here."

Dex ignored the first question with a roll of his eyes. He pouted when Alcott hid the tabs, muttering something under his breath before hurling a pen at the agents keyboard to break it.

"Like I said: your words, not mine. Figured I'd stay longer, though. Not every day I get to see you."

Dex probably should've chosen his words better, but he didn't care. He placed the rest of the pens back into the cupholder when he was sure no one else was going to come into the office. It was right on schedule, too. He knew perfectly well just how long Alcott worked.

"You're all alone. Again."

"I was." Thankfully his mother already went home and the nightshift isn't much acquainted with him.

"You don't have to see me." Alcott suggests.

"I dont understand your obsession with me."

"I wanted to," Dex countered back, pushing off the desk to sift through the crate knives sitting on the other side. "I knew you wouldn't arrest me."

Dex picked up one of the knives and spun it around in his hand, testing the weight of it. He replaced one of the knives on his belt with the one he just picked up, his brow raised as he looked at Alcott through them.

"You appreciate the work I do. You pick up on my clues all the time without havin' to contact you."

"Thats because they aren't clever." Okay maybe they were, but Cattell wasn't going to give him that.

He peers at the knife Dex placed down. "Where'd you get that one?" He reaches for it

Dex blinked, another smile pulling onto his lips at the retort. He liked Alcott's wit. "If they weren't, half of the CIA would understand me."

"But they don't. They don't see me the way you do, Alcott." He walked back over into the cubicle to lean against the desk again.

He watched Cattell mess with the knife he set down and shrugged. "Military weapons store in Queens. You like it?"

"I'm not sure i do understand you...at least not most of them time." He flips around the blade

"I do... it's nice. I'll check that place out." He takes the knife and places it under his monitor, next to a wobbly toy beaker.

Alcott's gaze drifts to Dex's belt filled with weapons. Anything special or was it just the weapons of the dead guards.

"You try," Dex said, almost uncharacteristically soft. He glanced down at his bruised knuckles, a hint of self-contempt in his eyes before he blinked it away.

Dex moved some papers behind him so he could sit properly on the desk. "You can keep that one. Use it to do some good."

Of course, Dex's version of good wasn't exactly..the proper kind. He leaned back more at seeing Alcott analyze his belt, letting the overhead lights shine on it. He'd replaced it with his own, plus some of the guards' batons.

Alcott completely ignores the comment. Dex was a bit to accurate.

"I will." He continues to stare. He presses the back of his chair to the desk, facing the criminal fully now.

"How long do you intend on staying?"

Dex shrugged. He gave Alcott a look up and down, then focused on the floor, thinking. He could leave now and make sure Alcott gets home safe. He could stay and keep bothering the agent.

"As long as you are. I got all the time in the world, Alcott."

"I was planning on leaving." He wasn't. His mother just left a few minutes before Dex arrived and she tends to sit in her car for a while. If he was forced to see his mother more than the nine hours they have at work he'd kill himself.

Dex saw right through Alcott's words. He noticed the slight furrow in his brow, the subtle distaste at every word, as if it was wrong. It was wrong. Dex just tilted his head, his brows raising slightly.

"Liar. You leave only after the other car does. An hour later."

"Coincidence." He fiddles with the stitches on his trousers, watching how to stitches were made.

It wasn't a surprise Dex was watching him at all. Dex wasn't has stealthy as he thought. Or maybe Alcott was always looking for him.

"You're lying again," Dex commented flatly, his expression neutral. He shifted on the desk, masking the way his back ached with each breath he took. Dex refused to take his medication. Hence, his spine injury pain flared up.

He decided to bite the bullet and ask away. "That's your mom. You hate her, don't you?"

@benjpoindexter

Please come retrieve your weapons.

You kept them? I'll come get them now.

Yes, and?

Dex casually entered the New York Office that the mayor sectioned off for the CIA, disguised in a security guard outfit, taken from a guard who was on their smoke break in the back. He sauntered into the elevator with his notebook in hand where Alcott's office number was written in red ink on the inside of the cover.

He rode the elevator to Alcott's floor, spinning a pen around his index and middle finger mindlessly. When the elevator stopped on the correct floor, Dex walked right out, heading up to Alcott's cubicle with a lazy grin on his face. He had a pep in his step—a slight hum on his lips. Dex hadn't ever seen Alcott face to face. Didn't have the confidence before that, despite his arrogance.

"Agent Alcott," Dex sang out, dramatic as ever. He tossed the pen in his hand right to the wall past Alcott's face. "You have something for me."

Alcott really just wanted to get some work done, he wasn't expecting Ben or Dex as he so kindly referred to him as to show up to his place of work. Mostly because it would get him arrested on sight but also because they've never had that kind of relationship...or that's what he thought. He didn't recognize his voice but he did recognize the name he used. Most people in the office referred to him as "Mini Alcott" or "Mama's boy." Cattel couldn't remember the last time anyone in the building called him anything else. "Dex?" He whispered before looking around. He was most worried about his mother and the teasing of it all. Dex could handle himself.

Dex stayed quiet until he reached Alcott's cubicle, standing right behind him with a smile that reached ear to ear. Smeared, cleaned off blood decorated his cheek, a sad attempt to hide the fact he'd gone and murdered someone inside the building. He removed the security guard hat and placed it on Alcott's desk, maneuvering into the limited space to lean up against the desk like they were good friends.

"Alcott," he mimicked, feeling giddy. "You wanted me here. Don't act surprised."

Dex tilted his head in the direction of the crate holding his weapons, then he glanced down at Alcott, mentally cataloging anything he could. From the agents hair to his clothing, Dex filed everything away for later. He waved his notebook around in the air like it was a rare item.

"Found you with this."

"Where the fuck did you get that?" He tries to snatch it away.

Dex, the vigilante that leaves notes in blood for him and pesters him constantly is not at his place of work, having no care to be stealthy

Dex swiftly moved his hand away before Alcott could reach it, then tucked it away into the back pocket of the security guard uniform. He gazed around the empty office, picking up a few pens to throw if anyone dared walk in.

"Made it myself. You're front and center, Alcott."

Dex tried to get a peek at the work on Alcott's computer, whistling along to a Smiths song he listened to on the way to the office.

"Are you in love with me or something?" He hides the tabs before turning towards Poindexter. "You didn't have to come here."

Dex ignored the first question with a roll of his eyes. He pouted when Alcott hid the tabs, muttering something under his breath before hurling a pen at the agents keyboard to break it.

"Like I said: your words, not mine. Figured I'd stay longer, though. Not every day I get to see you."

Dex probably should've chosen his words better, but he didn't care. He placed the rest of the pens back into the cupholder when he was sure no one else was going to come into the office. It was right on schedule, too. He knew perfectly well just how long Alcott worked.

"You're all alone. Again."

"I was." Thankfully his mother already went home and the nightshift isn't much acquainted with him.

"You don't have to see me." Alcott suggests.

"I dont understand your obsession with me."

"I wanted to," Dex countered back, pushing off the desk to sift through the crate knives sitting on the other side. "I knew you wouldn't arrest me."

Dex picked up one of the knives and spun it around in his hand, testing the weight of it. He replaced one of the knives on his belt with the one he just picked up, his brow raised as he looked at Alcott through them.

"You appreciate the work I do. You pick up on my clues all the time without havin' to contact you."

"Thats because they aren't clever." Okay maybe they were, but Cattell wasn't going to give him that.

He peers at the knife Dex placed down. "Where'd you get that one?" He reaches for it

Dex blinked, another smile pulling onto his lips at the retort. He liked Alcott's wit. "If they weren't, half of the CIA would understand me."

"But they don't. They don't see me the way you do, Alcott." He walked back over into the cubicle to lean against the desk again.

He watched Cattell mess with the knife he set down and shrugged. "Military weapons store in Queens. You like it?"

"I'm not sure i do understand you...at least not most of them time." He flips around the blade

"I do... it's nice. I'll check that place out." He takes the knife and places it under his monitor, next to a wobbly toy beaker.

Alcott's gaze drifts to Dex's belt filled with weapons. Anything special or was it just the weapons of the dead guards.

"You try," Dex said, almost uncharacteristically soft. He glanced down at his bruised knuckles, a hint of self-contempt in his eyes before he blinked it away.

Dex moved some papers behind him so he could sit properly on the desk. "You can keep that one. Use it to do some good."

Of course, Dex's version of good wasn't exactly..the proper kind. He leaned back more at seeing Alcott analyze his belt, letting the overhead lights shine on it. He'd replaced it with his own, plus some of the guards' batons.

Alcott completely ignores the comment. Dex was a bit to accurate.

"I will." He continues to stare. He presses the back of his chair to the desk, facing the criminal fully now.

"How long do you intend on staying?"

Dex shrugged. He gave Alcott a look up and down, then focused on the floor, thinking. He could leave now and make sure Alcott gets home safe. He could stay and keep bothering the agent.

"As long as you are. I got all the time in the world, Alcott."

"I was planning on leaving." He wasn't. His mother just left a few minutes before Dex arrived and she tends to sit in her car for a while. If he was forced to see his mother more than the nine hours they have at work he'd kill himself.