milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Sam Axe has worn a lot of hats, over his life. Navy SEAL, spy, FBI, the lot.

Today, he wears the expression of a man who feels like he's died and gone to heaven.

Of course, he actually is thinking that literally, right now. Might as well enjoy it, he thinks.

He walks over to the bar (and that's the part that really makes him think it's actually heaven) and laughs.

"Come on! Saint John or Archangel Gabriel or whoever... what's it take to get a beer around here?"

When it appears in front of him, he grins. "Now that's what I call service," he says.

[tiny tag: Sam Axe]

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"Right," Sam says. "Woman raises Mikey, no way I'm thinking she's a pushover."

"Also, when you meet a woman named Veronica? Treat her right. You'll kick yourself for the rest of your life if you don't. I don't understand it, but Oh-Nine Sam seems to think rather highly of her."

"Right," Sam says. "You don't happen to know who won any Super Bowls, do you?"

"Is that baseball?"

"Figures," Sam says. "No, it's not."

"Oh. Sorry?"

Sam just shakes his head. "I'm gonna need another beer," he decides.

"Well, I'll leave you to it, then." She considers hugging him again and thinks better of it.

"If you need me for anything, just leave a note with the bar. Oh and whatever you do, don't order an Atlantean unless you know where you're sleeping. And watch out for the two British guys, one little, one big. They're," she shudders, "serial killer creepy."

"Got it," Sam says. "Was, uhhh, nice seeing you, Fi."

"It was nice seeing you too, Sam. Really. Don't be a stranger."

She gives him an oddly affectionate look. Almost wistful. And then she turns and disappears into the crowd.

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