milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Sara.

Coffee.

Paradoxes. A bar of chocolate came with them, but she put it back.

Notebook.

Bother.

"More than bells, I hope," she says a bit dryly, teasing, squeezing back. "Won't be til after the first of the year, at least. We haven't decided anything more than that--but I'm not being given away."

"Just giving yourself to him." A nod. "Him I haven't met."

Another squeeze of her hand. "We need to do something about that."

"We will. Be down here a little more often." She nudges his leg with her foot. "Or we could go have dinner in his New York--you'd probably like the Life Cafe."

His New York. Leaving the bar. Without Murphy. Connor's not sure he can do that.

"Maybe." A shrug. He doesn't want to think about that.

"I'll try to come down more often."

"That's something, at least."

A nod. He can't promise much more than that. He's dispappointed her enough already.

He fingers the ring on his finger. "You've checked him out? Made sure..." He's not going to say anything more. He's more than certain she understands what he means.

"Mark...is the kind of man I'd really given up on believing existed," she says quietly. "Just, genuinely decent. He's been hurt a lot--but it's really more his story to tell. He watched his closest friend die of AIDS...and three others have the disease as well. He knows he will lose them, yet he's still supporting them now. Not many people will ever do that."

A nod. Doesn't mean he wouldn't do some digging of his own. Maybe. He trusts her, and he trusts her judgement, but still. he's her brother, right? It's in the code, he has to protect her and look out for her. Even if she's quite capable of taking care of herself.

"You know I'm gonna have ta give him hell." A bit of the accent coming through, and a slight smirk touching his lips.

"I've warned him," she says with an amused look. "But if you give him too much hell, expect to get some of that back." From her. And possibly an irate drag queen.

"I fully expect it." A quirk of his brow, msked by a taking a sip of his water.

Amazing what talking to a sister can do for his mood sometimes.

Sisters are good for things like that.

"Good."

He finally lets go of her hand.

"Other than that, anything going on?"

"Something weird, though something weird's normally going on anyway. Some people are acting like they're teenagers. I think it has to do with some sort of chocolate Bar's been giving out."

"Halloween prank, maybe?"

"Probably, knowing Bar. Last year, she put a bunch of people in costume."

"Aye." He remembers that. Vagually. Seems so long ago.

He picks at a bit of dried...sometihng at the edge of the table.

She covers his hand again. "Okay?"

A nod. "Just thinkin'. 'S all right." He shakes his head to clear it. "No sense dwelling on it, aye?"

"Doesn't seem to help," she says quietly.

"No. It doesn't." A flash of eotion crosses his face, but he swallows it back. He's happy for her, for her engagement. He doesn't want to ruin that by breaking down on her.

"C'mon," she says quietly. "Let's go upstairs. I'm going to thrash you at poker."

When in doubt....

"You think so?" He drinks the last of his water, and wraps the energy bar up to save for later.

"I've lived and worked in Las Vegas for seven years," she says a bit dryly. "Lost several paychecks until I mastered Texas Hold'Em. C'mon."

"Aye, aye," He follows behind her, shaking his head.

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