milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Kestrel is in a booth.

It's hard to say if she's been there all night, or if she went up to her room at some point, and has merely already come downstairs.

At some point, she'll go looking for coffee.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hands over the bottle - at least she doesn't insult him like Kronos does - though that does get amusing.

"Eh, well, Dawn patrol, not as fun as, maybe, Kestrel patrol, but... has it's uses." Oh the smirk...

She takes... a rather large gulp of the Scotch. And does not immediately return the bottle.

Her curious grin has a faint brittleness to it.

"And what on earth would you do on such a patrol?"

He slides his hands into the pockets of his jacket - the one that he grabbed and slid on as he slinked out the door - the one the mun didn't say he had with him, but as he generally does, yeah, he's wearing it.

"Depends. It's not like stalking. It's much classier. And it looks a lot more casual."

She takes another shot's worth from the bottle.

"Classy, casual stalking. Right."

"It involves... well, the last time, telling a cop that she was a bad liar," he notes with a grin. "Told me she worked for the Met."

He glances at her. "You work for the Met?" he asks... already knowing the answer, of course, but... 'tis fun.

"No, a toy store actually. For the moment. Tech support in Boston, come the new year..."

"Should I ask what kind of toys?" He smirks and holds his hand out for the bottle that she's been keeping close tabs on.

Her expression doesn't change, but she does pass back the bottle.

"Up to you, really."

He takes a pull.

"So, what kind of toys?" and there's a hint of a leer in the question.

"Regular toys for kids... storefront in a mall. The type of place where evil mothers leave their kids for four hours at a time so they can go to the beauty salons and have things waxed and removed. That kind of toy store."

Her voice is rather matter-of-fact.

"Well, that's no fun." He laughs a bit; takes a pull from the bottle again.

"So, when you're not babysitting at the mall, what do you do?" Oh yeah - can we say subtle?

She lifts her shoulder in a shrug, and watches the incipient sunrise.

"Not a lot, really... spend time with my friends, help out my roommate... she was pregnant when I left, although apparently she's had the baby, according to Angela... spend time on the computer... yell at Davan for selling my panties on eBay... the usual, really."

"Panties?"

"Yes, what's your point? It's his cat's fault."

"The cat made him sell your panties?"

*another pull*

"And, can I watch?" he smiles - almost laughs - and has an image of a cat typing away, watching the bids and laughing it's cat-head off.

"No... the cat stole them from me. He was broke, that's why he sold them. We've gotten mostly past that now, though..."

She sighs, and watches him for a moment with a somewhat inscrutable look in her eyes.

"Connor..."

He says nothing - just looks... interested or something...

She watches the sun, just peeking over the trees, for a moment.

"... I'm flattered, and all, but..."

"You're just using me for the Scotch?" It's not the first time he's been shut-down; won't be the last. He smiles and takes a pull from the bottle.

"So, who is it?"

Quietly, still watching the sunrise, she answers.

"The one who went crazy, left, came back, tried to kill himself because he thought he might have raped me, and left again; and the one who didn't do any of that, but isn't around very often."

"So, that's two. Sounds like you have your hands full."

She smiles a little.

"Yeah... you could say that."

He smirks. "Been there."

"Any luck with that?"

"Sometimes," he says with a wry smile.