milliways_bar | (no subject)

He laughs.

"Not yet, but if we're going to discuss beverages, I suggest Scotch vs. Tequilla."

She smirks a little.

"Is that an offer, or a challenge?"

"Perhaps a bit of both," he replies with a wry grin.

"Are you buying, then? Or is Nick?" She blithely ignores the fact that this conversation has been going on since long before Nick made his offer to put everything on his tab for the night, and grins at him.

"Well, what's a holiday if we don't put it on Nick's tab? He won't mind."

(( and who's to say they haven't been sitting here talking long enough to *hear* Nick's offer? *g* ))

She chuckles.

"Okay, so, it's scotch or tequila, then? Which'll you be wanting first?"

"Depends on the Scotch. Because one never mixes the excellent Scotch with the tequilla. At least, this one doesn't." He offers a smile.

"Start with the tequilla."

She grins. Got it.

"All right, then. Any preferences on brand, if we get to pick?"

"Tequilla? Nah."

"Okay. Now to the important question - are you ordering, or am I?"

"We'll split the difference. You order the tequilla, I'll order the Scotch - when we get there."

Notice - 'when', not 'if'... he's optimistic, if nothing else.

[ooc: mun is heading off to sleep in a bit, but they can drink all through tomorrow while I'm at work... ;) b/c I'm bad and play online some there too.]

"Fair enough."

She grins again, and levers herself out of the booth, catching a waitrat and coming back after a few minutes with a rather large bottle of tequila, and two glasses that are distinctly not shot glasses.

"This good?"

[ooc: 's fine. *grins*]

His eyes brighten at the size of the glasses.

"Woman after my own heart," and he places both hands over his before sitting up in the chair.

"Much better than shot glasses."

[ooc: and that's the last post from the mun for tonight - ;)]

"Well, this way we don't have to take turns with the bottle, and shot glasses are for wusses really."

She smirks, and pours.

He matches her smirk, agreeing about the shot glasses.

He waves a hand at the glasses. "Pour away."

She hands him the full glass - probably at least five shots' worth - and lifts her own.

"What do we drink to, to start?"

[ooc: You on AIM or Y!M right now?]

"Elevators."

He has a reason - if she asks.

[ooc: alas, no - I'm at the evil!workplace and cannot have AIM or Y!M - b/c they will hurt me]

"Elevators, then."

She clicks her glass against his, and takes a gulp.

"... why elevators?"

He drinks from his glass as she does.

"That's how I get here. On my elevator. Figure I should drink to it at least once, or it may stop bringing me."

He grins and finishes off his glass.

She laughs, and pours him another. We... are probably going to need a few more bottles, aren't we.

"Fair enough... in that case, let's drink to the doors to every bar in Denver, hey?"

"Doors to the bars in Denver, it is."

He raises his glass...

And they drink, for a few hours, coming up with increasingly less logical things to toast.

At the end of the fourth bottle of tequila, she looks over at him, surprisingly clear-eyed.

"All right. Either we need limes, or we need to switch... to... something... else. What else was it you wanted, again?"

[ooc: ahhh - all hail the reverse of slow-time! Milli-time-lapse!]

"No limes. We need Scotch." Which he would always remember, b/c it's what he almost always drinks.

"The real question is, do we drink it now, or wait until tomorrow?"

She blinks at him.

"Why on earth would we wait? You're awake, I'm awake, and we're sober enough to be arguing about it. I say we drink it now, but remember you're ordering."

"Good point. And yes, I am."

He leaves, but returns momentarily with a bottle of Scotch - good stuff, not Glenmorangie, but good enough.

"This should do." He fills the glasses - why get clean ones and make the kitchen staff have to work harder? *g*

"Are we toasting again, or just drinking?"