milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Serenity's got about another 32 hours before they hit Ezra.

The waiting before a job is usually the worst part, and today Mal is feeling it more so than others. He's checking in with the bar when he receives an eyepatch and a watergun the likes of which he hasn't seen since that ridiculous Assassin game in April.

There's a smirk when he shoves the eyepatch into his pocket, hopping behind the bar and scrawling out a sign before asking Bar for a 3' by 5' cloth.

Mal walks out the door to the lake, damn near whistling.

[ooc: I'm on gchat for any coordinating that might want to happen. Uh. It's not a huge boat, but it'll do. I'll put up an organizing post somewhere if this gets people involved.

ETA: This thread is for any arrivals if you are participating in shenanigans.

ETA AGAIN: OOC COMMUNICATIONS.

And it continues: The Battle Thread. Onlookers welcome.

And food for the spectators. And the winner, obviously.]

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"We do that on purpose, the misinformation that is. Keeps us mysterious."

Mike might just wiggle his fingers here for emphasis.

"You know, we try to do that," Ianto observers, "since we're supposed to be this secret organization and all, but then my boss goes swanning about his his big coat and it all gets shot to hell. It's almost a wonder our SUV doesn't say 'Torchwood1' on the license plate."

"I wanted to get our license plate to say DUDE1, but my brothers outvoted me."

Philistines!

"I bet it's taken.

"So, about these shellfish? How does one, um--?"

"Probably."

Sighs Mikey.

"Oh! You dig, my good man, ya' dig?
Here, take the plates and I'll make with the shoveling, since you know I know where they are and stuff."

Mike walks over and hands Ianto the poisoned plates, before he starts to dig. There might be an occasional hiss as the steam escapes.

"hothothot."

Ianto holds the plates.

"Don't you have oven mitts or something?"

"Mits are for the weak! andforpeoplewhoremembertopackthem. I'm good. I'll just...shift here...for...a second."

Somewhere in the bar a patron is unaware that the ice in his drink has begun to melt.

"Much better. Aaaaaaand. Viola!"

The salt shell is cracked and the sweet smell of freshly steamed seafood fills the air.

"OH yeah, that's the stuff."

"Oh, god," Ianto says softly, closing his eyes to inhale the scent. "That's brilliant."

"There are so many briny deep jokes that I'm not making right now. I just thought you should know. Plate!"

Mike holds out his hand for Ianto's plate.

Ianto hands a plate over. "I suspect that's an American cultural reference I don't understand."

"Yup. Referencing cunnilingus."

Responds Mike, all matter of fact like.

"Want some tail?"

Ianto snorts. "Charming, you.

"I'd love some tail."

"That's what they tell me."

He shoots Ianto his most charming smile, which...is actually kind of charming in its own mildly manic beach bum way.

Mike then breaks the tail off a lobster and places it center on the plate. He then surrounds the lobster with about a half dozen steamed clams.

"And there's crab legs, should you be a leg man."

"I'm definitely a leg man. Pile it on, please."

"I love a man with a big appetite."

Mike does as he's told, and as such some Alaskan King Crab legs are added to the plate.

"Kind of looks like some sort of Area 51 autopsy tray."

"Alien blood tends to be black," Ianto says and helps himself to some citrus slices. "Thanks. Smells so good."

"Does it?
"I tried not to make a point of sticking around long enough to really pay much attention to blood color.""

Asks Mike over his shoulder as he helps himself to the clam bake.

"You're more than welcome."

"Yup. I've watched more than my share of autopsies. There's probably more to come."

He squeezes lemon juice over the lobster and starts eating. There is not an audible oh my god but there is reverent silence for really good food.

He pulls a face.

"Yeah...no. Not so much. I mean, I'll totally dress something I'm going to cook, but cut something up to see what makes it tick? No thanks."

"That's vivisection," Ianto says and swallows. "Cutting up something to see what makes it tick.

"Autopsies are for seeing what made it die."

"Six of one, half dozen of the other. I'm really okay with avoiding both."

"Never get a job defending the earth, in that case." Ianto drinks some smoothie.

"See, this is one of the many reasons I retired and became a bartender."

[ooc: Sure thing.]

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