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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"Since when do I owe you a drink?"

"Since ages ago," Wes says vaguely. "You probably don't remember, see."

"Aha. No. That trick is going to work on me."

Wes is shocked. Utterly.

"You think I'd trick you?"

"Really? Yes. Or at least try."

"I am appalled that you would suggest such a thing. I am nothing if not honest all the time."

He nods firmly.

"Wes. Don't be so hard on yourself," Atton says, shaking his head. "You're not nothing."

Wes sticks his tongue out at Atton.

"I hate you. Now you do owe me a drink."

"You love me, really. Admit it, you do."

Wes goes pfft.

"Nope. I don't think it's possible for anyone to hate someone as much as I hate you."

"Aw, Wes. Don't say that." Atton tries to look hurt. Except he's still grinning.

Wes shakes his head, remaining stern for a whole three seconds before he grins again.

"All right. I don't hate you at all. But I still say you owe me a drink."

"Fine. It's going on Kira's tab anyway," He waves over a waitrat. "Something strong, please. Not too strong. We wouldn't want poor Wes getting drunk."

Wes looks at him.

"Obviously you don't remember my legendary capacity for holding my liquor."

... perhaps he means imaginary?

"Well, I'm sure you'll be more than happy to provide a demonstration to jog my memory." Atton replies, grinning as the waitrat delivers several bottles of something cherry red, fizzing, and glowing.

"Absolutely," Wes says cheerfully, grinning back and taking a bottle. "I am always up for anything involving alcohol."

Atton grins broadly.
"Okay then. First one to finish their bottle," He says as he takes a bottle. "Wins. And the loser has to ... I dunno, I'll figure it out when I win."

"You mean when you lose," Wes corrects him, and raises his bottle in a mock toast. "Okay. Sounds like a deal."

And that's all he says before he starts drinking.

:O! Cheat.

Atton starts drinking a second later, trying to somehow drink it quicker than Wes. This involves tipping his head back so that the bottle is completely vertical.

Ha! Wes is smart and drinking at an angle, although it's still sort of dripping down his chin, because this whole fizzy thing doesn't exactly make it easy to down.

But he's actually managing quite well besides that!

Atton continues to drink, eyeing Wes round the bottle and deciding that he may have to cheat. He doesn't know how he can cheat at this, though."

With great difficulty, perhaps.

Wes should pause, he really should, because while he is almost done, he is probably about to-- well, choke and spill a whole lot of the red stuff down his shirt. Like he's just done. That's gonna stain.

There's only a drop left after that, and he downs it before staring dismally at his shirt.

"Your fault."

Atton still has a little bit left when Wes downs the last drop.
"Hey. Don't blame me. Won you the contest, didn't it?" He grins. "Even if you did cheat."

Wes wipes vaguely at the stain, then looks at Atton indignantly.

"I didn't cheat. Won fair and square, I did." He grins. "You're just a bad loser."

"It's cheating not to drink it all." Even though he was thinking of slowing the flow with the Force.