milliways_bar | Happy Hour

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Happy Hour

Indy and Veronica did Happy Hour together last week. Indy's heard about it ever since, from a deeply (if perhaps a bit theatrically) wounded Lilly. His protest of "but Princess, I've been asking ya to do Happy Hour for ages and you've always said it sounded like too much work" fell on deaf ears, but eventually he figured out how to make it up to her.

Lilly's getting her own Happy Hour. She's behind the bar, chalking up the specials list with a serious look on her face. There's not much that Lilly takes seriously, but alcohol is on the list.

That's why the specials are mostly shots.

Three Stages of Friendship
Virgin Whore
Sweet Flower

She smiles triumphantly up at the board celebrating a few of her favorite things. The liquor bottles are within easy reach. The shot glasses have been washed and lined up. Her skirt is shorter than her apron. This is as close to ready as it gets.

"What up, Milliways? Who wants a drink?"

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*You would think it would be impossible for a grin that was already pretty much ear-to-ear to broaden.

But if you thought that, you would be wrong.*

Eyebrows of terror, glare of doom? That's the one.

You would also have thought it would be impossible for Lilly's eyes to get any wider, but then you'd be wrong again.

"Holy shit. Okay. So, I have to know. What does Merriman Lyon look like naked?"

...and wouldn't you know it, the individual in question has just walked up to the bar to get a fresh pot of tea, and manages to catch the tail end of Lilly's question.

Suffice it to say that the expression on his face fits Meg's description of him remarkably well.

Hi Merriman! *Meg says, brightly.

And thinks to herself that it is remarkably lucky that both she and Lilly are already dead.*

Lilly beams at him.

"Hi Merriman! We were just talking about what you looked like naked. Do you mind showing us? I have a pack of cards under the bar here if that's required to get you in the mood for nude."

For a moment, he actually forgets to breathe.

'I hope,' he says at long last, and the frost in his voice nearly forms icicles in the air, 'that you will not be offended when I say that I would mind.'

Lilly, come on, you're a professional - you can't expect him to strip for free, *Meg says, before she can stop herself.

And then she closes her eyes, and waits for death.*

And that garners Meg a Look.

One she probably doesn't have to open her eyes to see.

One that could easily strip the varnish off a table.

One that says, very clearly: Do NOT give her any ideas.

It really is too bad that he didn't give her that look two minutes ago.

"Of course I don't expect him to strip for free," Lilly says, looking offended.

"I expect him to strip for an enormous sum of money that will then be donated to the charity of his choice. Or he could split it up. Some to the Joe Manco fund, some to fund worthy causes in his world."

She looks impressively serious.

"We have to remember those who are not fortunate enough to see him naked, after all."

Merriman, on the other hand, looks impressively on the point of not being able to keep his facial expression under control.

'Even with the additional incentive,' he somehow manages to say, though it comes out sounding slightly strangled, 'I will have to decline once again.'

And privately vows to never be caught with a deck of playing cards in Milliways ever again.

*Meg . . . appears to be maintaining a relatively constant undead state!

Cautiously, she opens her eyes.

Weakly:* It's all right. Lilly appreciates a man of mystery.

"I do!"

Lilly nods furiously.

"Meg's totally right. Which is why I wouldn't make you go all full monty. You could have a tasteful pair of briefs as your final item. Good stripping is more about teasing your audience with each reveal than just scrambling out of your clothes and standing around naked, anyway."

She pauses.

"OH! I just had a brilliant idea for your music, Professor Lyon!"

She tilts a beaming, hopeful face up at him.

"Have you ever heard the song 'Hot For Teacher?'"

It's a minor miracle that he's still able to look her in the face at this point.

It may also be a minor miracle that Meg is still in her relatively constant undead state.

'Miss Kane.' Stern, if still a trifle strained. 'In how many ways must I say the word "no" before I am finally taken seriously?'

- technically that was a different question, *Meg squeaks.*

'That does not change the answer,' Merriman counters immediately. 'To that question, or the previous sequence of queries.'

"Really?"

Lilly ignores semantics in favor of looking very, very disappointed.

"I can't believe that. I mean, Van Halen weren't the best, but still."

She sighs heavily.

"I guess we can find you something else."

Lilly's also ignoring the no. It's possibly that she's selectively deaf.

This could go on for hours.

'I find it difficult to understand how I could explain myself any more clearly.' He pinches the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. 'The card game was, for lack of a better description, a one-off incident which I can categorically assure the both of you will not be repeated. As for the idea of raising funds for charity -- a worthwhile cause, yes, but I must yet again decline the offer to participate in it in the way you have suggested.'

A beat.

'However tasteful you declare it to be.'

I think it's very clear, *Meg offers, helpfully.*

I was only relating the card game as an accomplishment because it's so - very rare! You know. Which is why it is an accomplishment.

*Having thus - so she hopes - preserved her not!life a little longer:*

You could sponsor someone else maybe instead?

"I would have given you something very tasteful," Lilly mutters rebelliously. "Way more coverage than the traditional thong, but whatever."

She raises her voice to normal volume, following Meg's lead.

"Yeah, you could always nominate someone else and then sponsor their efforts. It's for the community, after all."

Merriman hadn't fully stopped to consider Lilly's definition of "tasteful", and now he is rather glad that he hadn't.

'The option is open,' is all he will say on that matter. 'Though there is also the option of merely donating to the fund without simultaneously requiring another patron to remove his or her clothes.'

*Meg's eyes are wide.*

But other people need motivation, n'est-ce pas? I mean, every charity needs some kind of gimmick. Why do you think the Opera put us in those little leather costumes?

'One might think that most people who attend an opera would be content with the quality of the singing.' It's the mild protest of a regular theatre-goer; he isn't a fool about such things. 'But I take your point.'

He looks back at Lilly. 'Other people may need motivation, yes. I simply do not wish to be included in it, that is all.'

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Happy Hour

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