milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Munch hadn't really been expecting Milliways to show up in the doorway to his apartment today, but he's not complaining. After visiting his uncle Andrew he feels like he needs a bit of a break before heading over to the precinct.

"Beer, if you please," he says, laying the money for it down on the Bartop. It disappears, and a moment later the requested bottle shows up in its place. "Thanks."

So, detective inna bar witha beer. Botherable.

((Mun has housework to do, so responses will be slow-timed. Apologies in advance for inconvenience and stuff))

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Steve glanced over. Two guys, two beers. Seemed to work out. And he did need the distraction.

"Hey."

Munch looked over, and nodded at the man who had spoken.

"Hey."

"You're, uh. Normal. Right?" Steve asked with the requisite amount of maybe-maybe-not in his tone.

Fin would probably be jumping in with a wisecrack right about how. But since he's not, and Munch isn't feeling that snarky...

"Depends on your definition of 'normal'."

"No... powers or any of that or... non-human-ness? I mean, I don't think I've met anybody yet that's... not... some part human, but..."

"Well, my partner likes to say that I can smell a conspiracy from a five year-old's lemonade stand, but I'm just your average, middle-aged New York detective."

He held out a hand to the other guy to shake.

"Det. John Munch, Manhattan SVU squad."

The handshake was gladly accepted. "Steven Rimbauer, Seattle, chronically unemployed."

He tried a smile. "Seems like everybody's got better luck than me."

"What, you mean with jobs?"

"Yeah, I'm a little sick of being broke, you know?" He took a long drink of his beer. "It bites."

Munch nods in agreement. "So instead you run up a bar tab in here."

Hey, at least he isn't attempting to give pedantic encouragement about trying to find a job.

"The payment from TechStar should come in any day now," Steve countered. "Besides, it's one beer. I'm not a complete moron - I'm just broke."

"Sorry." The apology taken care of, Munch turned his attention back to his beer. But innate curiosity won't keep his attention focused on that for long.

"...What's TechStar? Some sort of computer company?"

"Nah. Land development. Condos. Just sold some inheritance. Hopefully that'll take care of my money problems until I can actually get a decent job." He hoped. Another swig of beer and Steve consciously set it aside. Getting completely drunk wouldn't help a thing.

"Ah, real estate. Always a good venture." This coming from a man whose only owned piece of property was part of a bar in Baltimore.

"Here's hoping, anyway," Steve nodded, lifting the beer bottle in something of a toast before placing it down again. "Does it take a college degree to get into law enforcement?"

"Nope; just have to pass the police exam," Munch replied, taking a swig of his own beer. "Why, you interested in that career path?"

"I'm interested in anything that pays a steady salary," Steve said with a shrug. At least he was honest.

"---page me when the results are in, Hodges," Sara says over her shoulder as she enters the bar, casefile under her arm.

Getting a cup of coffee, she finds a seat, opening the file.

"Interesting reading?" Munch asks casually, eyes flickering briefly to the casefile.

She's not a cop, but there's something about her that screams "law enforcement" to Munch.

"As interesting as it ever gets," she says neutrally, looking up. "Hi."

"Hi." Yeah, not the most original response ever. But introductions always work! "John Munch, NYPD."

"Sara Sidle, Las Vegas crime lab. 2006." She's been in Milliways a while, it would seem. "Pleasure, Detective?" She's taking a guess at his rank, but his mannerisms are reminding her of Brass.

"Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Sidle." Munch has only been in for a week. He's got a lot to learn, poor boy.

He nods at her guess. "Got it in one. I work with the 1-6 precinct in Manhattan; SVU."

He'll learn quickly.

"I'm a CSI. I'd gladly discuss my current case with you to get perspective but it is an open investigation and such things are generally frowned upon." An apologetic look while she closes the file. "SVU--that's special victims, right?"

"Right again; I can tell why you're a CSI." True, they call them 'CSUs' where he's from, but what's one little letter?

"More like I was just making sure I remembered the abbreviations correctly. Have you been in Milliways long?"

"Just about a week or so. I'd been on my way to a coworker's welcome home party when this place showed up instead."

Not that he's complaining anymore.

"I've been coming here for almost two years now. Kind of strange when I think back on that." Found love and family, lost love and family, found love and family again. Lather, rinse, repeat with a side of OMGWTF and that would be Sara's experience. "I didn't expect it to be on the other side of the door to the supply closet at the lab."

"I can think of worse spots to find this place." Like Cragen's office. Munch hopes that never happens.

"True, but there are times when the door will disappear on you," she says matter of factly, "and that can be very aggravating. It tends to happen to me after something traumatic happens to my team."

"That's got to suck," Munch remarks. Automatically his memory starts to replay some of the squad's darker periods. "Hopefully not to many traumatic things have happened to your team."

"More seems to have happened this year than in years past," she observes a bit cynically. "It sucks, and it doesn't. Another weird quirk about being bound--which is what people here call the door disappearing--is that no time passes. I've given up trying to understand this place with logic."

"Huh. So it sucks and it doesn't at the same time. Nice."

He takes a swig from his beer bottle.

"I doubt there's really any kind of logic to this place." A bar appearing in random doorways? A window that shows the end of the universe on continuous loop 24/7? People (and other creatures) from different worlds and time periods? Definately not Earth logic, certainly.

She sips her coffee. "I'm not complaining about finding it though, despite the weird things that seem to happen in waves. Makes Vegas seem refreshingly normal, for one thing, and the people here can be absolutely priceless to know."

"So how long have you been working in Vegas?" Munch asks. He doesn't touch her comment about the people at Milliways. He'll probably have enough time to get to know some of them.

"This is the start of my seventh year."

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