milliways_bar | (no subject)

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It's one of those posts.

There's a spoilerific and mildly tipsy Desmond in a booth, sketching something that might be a snowglobe, only that's silly, right?

Another booth has a Hawkeye, with a glass of scotch and a newspaper from home -- it's amazing what Bar'll give you.

At a table by the noticeboard is Wes, copying English words from the various signs and seeing how much he can translate without checking the primer. (Answer: not many. Rose is watching from the next table over, smirking slightly at each mistake. It's great being able to read anything. Yay TARDIS!)

Ben's at the Bar with a chocolate milkshake -- that's not changed after three years, apparently. He's stealing occasional curious glances at an uneasy man nearby, though: Fi's wandered in wearing his off-duty clothes and without his brothers, but he figured he'd have a glass of fruit juice anyway. (And why not, eh?)

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Shalla owns Wes so hard. And she knows this, judging by the grin on her face.

"..."

Huh.

"We could take holos! Of him tied up! And then say that we...put an impostor in the Commander's place." She nods, because this won't result in Wedge getting interrogated or jailed or anything.

Lies.

"...some people would pay money just to see holos of Wedge tied up," Wes says, pulling a face. This is clearly not a mental image he wanted.

"You could say that. They might even believe you. But then they'd just send in, well, you guys to blow everything up, so okay, that didn't really work how I intended, never mind."

Shalla? Lie? Never!

Shalla smirks at him. "You chief among them, I suppose?" Wes/Wedge OTP.

As this is very much like what happened earlier in the conversation, she repeats his words. "Better luck next time."

Wes shoots her a dirty look at the comment. "Right, that's me. Been a dream of mine for years."

Yep, that's Shalla on his list of 'People To Give Really Crappy Jobs When I Take Over The Galaxy.'

"Thanks," wryly. "I'll try harder in future."

"I'll have to tell the rest of the Wraiths. We've been betting on how long it would take you to realize it," she says, batting her eyelashes.

She pats him on the shoulder. "You'd better. You've got a reputation to uphold, you know."

Wes shakes his head, but grins. "Hope you didn't put any money on that. Be a shame if you were poor now -- couldn't afford any cookies in future."

Amused, "What reputation would this be?"

That shocks her. "Are you implying that I have to pay for my cookies?" Wes run! She will break your kneecaps!

She sits back and sighs. "You know. Wes Janson, lady killer and brilliant prankster. So far, I have seen no evidence of either. Guess everyone was mistaken."

"Wellll..." Wes is thoughtful. "I only give a few away for free, you know. You can't expect cookies all the time from me. Gotta buy 'em at some point."

Apparently his sense of self-preservation has taken a severe knock since he arrived here.

"Oh, right, that one." He grins. "It's still all true, 'course. But, I mean, do you really want me to demonstrate either around you?"

She shakes her head vehemently. "Not me. I always get them for free." To imply otherwise is to risk death!

She...does not answer. Just raises an eyebrow.

Wes looks at her cynically. "What are you, a Jedi now?"

Then he blinks. Innocently.

"What?"

"Mmhmm." She waves her hand in his face. "Shalla always gets free cookies."

Wes is just stupid enough to fall for it.

He gets A Look. "You know what."

"Jedi Mind Tricks don't work on me," Wes says loftily. "Only alcohol."

Ha! Not this time!

But he is still innocent. "No, I don't. You'll have to tell me."

"Yeah, well, you, me, and alcohol ends up with both of us covered in it. So you'll have to make do with my Mind Tricks." ...which aren't real. Huh.

"I am so not going there." No way. There lies A TRAP.

"I don't know," Wes says reasonably, "I mean, that was only once. Really, we should try it lots of times, if it's going to be a fair experiment with a reliable result."

He continues with the innocence though.

"Going where?"

"Well...maybe we should. It couldn't hurt, right? And it's all in the interest of science, right?"

Of course.

"Don't play stupid, Wes. It doesn't become you. I'm not feeding your ego."

"Right," Wes agrees with a grin. "Science. Very important, science. I think you should get us some alcohol to test this, then."

He blinks at that, then shrugs and grins ruefully. "Well, I'm sure some people'd say it couldn't get any bigger anyway."

She has learned how to order drinks by now! She waves down a waitrat and points to herself and Wes. "A bottle of Whyren's. Each. Thanks."

:O

"I am obviously not one of those people," she says, turning to face him again. "You're one of those people that has a limitless ego."

"Each?" Even Wes goes :O. "I don't know that we have to test it that-- okay, wait, ignore everything I just said. I think I was about to suggest sensible drinking."

He shudders at the very idea.

"...I'm not sure whether to be insulted or not." He ponders this. "But you're going to keep me grounded, are you?" He grins.

"Yes, each." And because she is stupid and also has an ego, she adds, "Bet you I can finish mine first."

She opens hers and raises her eyebrows at him. Challenge, whut?

Suddenly she's serious. "Yeah, I will." But then she smiles again and takes a huge gulp of whiskey.

"Bet you can't," Wes replies instantly.

He looks round vaguely for a glass as he opens his own bottle, but, failing to find one, he just takes a swig straight from it.

There's brief eyeing of Shalla at her statement, but then he shrugs and raises his bottle to her in a salute.

"Watch me."

She takes another gulp, shaking her head slightly.

"You know I'll win. Might as well give up now." Nod.

"Nahhh..."

Wes grins brightly, then takes another large swig himself.

"I'll finish long before you. And besides, I never give up. So ha!"

Well, neither does Shalla. She just...occasionally cheats a bit. Which is what she does now, shifting forward and grabbing Wes's bottle.

"Try finishing it now, flyboy." She downs some of hers, now in the lead!

"Hey! You can't do that!"

Wes pouts at her and tugs at his bottle.

"Cheat. You know there's laws about people who don't let me drink whiskey. Somewhere."

"Try and stop me!" She looks at him for a second, and then frowns. "No pouting. Too cute. There's laws about that."

Her fingers might just loosen on the bottle as she takes another sip out of hers.