milliways_bar | (no subject)

"Um...excuse me? If I could have everyone's attention for a minute."

The hustle and bustle of the bar continues a pace, as if he'd said nothing at all.

"Hello? Can I have your attention, please."

Still nothing. There are drinks being drunk and foods being eaten and hub-bubs to bub.

"Okay...that's it."

A near ear piercing whistle makes it's way through the din. You'd almost expect a fleet of taxis to pull up along side the dirty-blonde haired man standing behind Bar. After all, that's what whistles like that are cultivated for in the first place.

"Thank you. Uh,...I guess I have an announcement to make. Um...first things first. Apologies to those who've had questionable...uh...bar-fare in the last couple of days. There's a refund coming your way if you were inconvenienced in any way. It's been a rough week of transition for everyone involved, and we appreciate your patience.

This brings me to my second point, um...for the time being...."

At this turn of phrase he winces slightly, as if someone had just poked him rather hard in the brain.

"...I will be assuming the role of Head Barman. So uh...yeah. If you've got any concerns, let me know I'll do what I can. If you have any complaints...please keep in mind that I am a highly trained ninja that can kill you in your sleep.

Okay with that said...the Bar is open."

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"Greater than your previous greatness!" Sam beams. Again. much with the beaming.

"I should hope so!"

He says with a grin.

"And speaking of so: Sooooooo how's our love-child coming along?"

Mike stands on his tippy-toes to try and get a better look at Sam's ever expanding belly.

She starts laughing. "Very, very well. Kicking a lot. It's a boy though, so this rules out being a Slayer, like Mel and Faith say."

"YOU'VE BEEN SLEEPING WITH MEL AND FAITH TOO?!?! AND YOU DIDN'T TAKE PICTURES?!?! FOR SHAME, SAM. For shame!"

Sam snorts. Like literally snorts. "And an alien too, apparently. I'm sorry. Next time I'll take pictures of me and Mel and Faith, mmk?"

"You'd better, or I'll be forced to take my own...and no one wants that."

"No, no one does." Sam wrinkles her nose.

"It's true. I've got like, a petition that says so and everything. I'd frame it, but I can't find a framery that'll do justice to a paper as long as the entire Library of Congress archive."

She grins up at him. "Oh Mikey, I've missed talking to you."

"That's because I'm greater than great. HA! Like that? I've brought everything full circle!"

"Oh it was great." Sam claps. "Like being with a comedian."

Mike looks up and over at the rest of the bar.

"Don't forget to tip your waitresses and wait rats. The 7 o'clock show is nothing like the 10 o'clock show. TRY THE VEAL!"

She head-Bars giggling. "So is the veal really that great?"

"Oh yeah. Soft and tender, like baby."

Sam grimaces. "Mike."

Pointed look at tummy.

"Oh yes I know. We will raise you in a crate. Feed you on the finest milk, and then slice you wafer thin...."

This would be far more frightening were he not using the voice of the French Chef from The Little Mermaid.

"........."

She can annuciate these dots very well.

He's not smug. He's not smug at all. Nope. Not a trace of smug here. This is a smug-free zone.

Oh sure it is.

"C'mere. You gotta little bit of smug on ya."

"Oh is it right here?"

He gestures towards his chin before leaning forward to offer said offending chin for wiping.

"Because I think I feel it right about here..."