(no subject)

[headed4hell]

Grace saunters out of Captain Perry's office, already tapping a cigarette from her pack, and tries not to smile. The guys are all looking at her, thinking she's in trouble with their new boss. Quite the opposite. Perry's an old friend from Vice and if Grace loved laughter any less, she'd warn Butch about being all UT in her face, at least for awhile; but he’s been a big boy in a unit full of Sooner fans for years now. It'll be entertaining.

She shoulders open the door to Major Crimes, then the stairwell, and mutters a half-hearted curse. Milliways. A few days without Earl’s making her soft. Whatever, it’s still a bar. Better to smoke with a drink than without one.

When Bar gives her the note, Grace tosses back her head and laughs. She looks at it again; laughs again.

"Sure thing. I could use time to think."

Because pouring drinks in between drinking her own will help her figure out why the motel manager got dead in one of his guest rooms. Obviously. Pushing her hair back, she pulls some not-so-random drink ideas from the proffered book and goes to work on the specials board.

HAPPY HOUR!

Absolut Hell
Holy Water
Jack and coke
and
Shots of Yukon Jack

Dance with the bartender, get a free shot. Bartender's choice.

Smirking, Grace rummages around behind Bar until she finds the sound system remote and cranks the volume to almost too loud. The classic rock already playing suits her fine. Time to shake up this place, she thinks. Time to shake Earl loose.

"Belly up, people. What'll be?"

(tiny tags: Grace Hanadarko, Cal Chandler, Michael, the Pirate King)

Comments

[mnt_raph]

"What's Yukon Jack?" asks the bald guy in black who just sidled up to Bar. Pay no attention to the Milliways Badge around his neck. He's not on duty yet.

[headed4hell]

Grace has yet to run into any of the bar's security force, but a badge is a badge. She notices.

Her own is on her belt, along with the glock.

"Dunno. Think it's a whiskey," she answers in short, rapid bursts. The Oklahoma accent is thick. Grace laughs and adds, "Canadian whiskey."

[mnt_raph]

His eyebrows go up at that. Canadian Whiskey. Huh.

"Guess that means it's nicer'n regular whiskey, but tastes like moose. Eh, what the fuck."

Time away didn't softened Raph's New York accent, it sharpened it.

"Eh," he says as an afterthought.

[headed4hell]

With a snort, she grabs the bottle of Yukon Jack she'd found, slaps two shot glasses on the bar and haphazardly fills them. Whiskey gets all over the wood, but seeing as how it's sentient, she just grins and leaves it.

Okay, she'd probably leave it anyway.

"Eh," she echoes, tapping the shot glasses together and handing him his. Her whiskey is gone before his is out of her hand; she turns the glass over on the bar, then chases the shot with Budweiser. "Damn."

[mnt_raph]

Slowly the whiskey begins to seep into the finish of the sleeping Bar.

Raph takes the shot and eyes it before he shoots it.
"Ain't exactly reassurin' when the bartender goes chasin' somethin' with crap beer."

Either way...down his goes.

[headed4hell]

"Crap beer?" she asks, feigning incredulity. "There's such a thing as crap beer?"

Smiling at him, she takes a big ole' gulp of her beer. It's probably best that she never looks at the 'born on' date.

[mnt_raph]

Raph winces. That is not the best thing he's ever drank.

"There's a crap version o' everythin'. Can I get a Jack to wash that outta my mouth?"

[headed4hell]

"If you're real picky."

Using the same glasses, she pours the Jack and nods at the Canadian whiskey.

"Picked it for the name," she admits, which is as close as she's going to get to saying it wasn't on par with her usual.

[mnt_raph]

"Ain't picky, just know what I like is all. Big difference."

Oh sweet delicious Jack Daniels. Raph doesn't shoot it, he sips and savors.
Happiness is.

[headed4hell]

"Got a name, yankee?"

She takes the shot, slams down the glass. Messy blond hair goes everywhere as she gives her head a good shake.

[mnt_raph]

"Raph."

He downs the rest of the shot.

"An' you?"

[headed4hell]

"Grace Hanadarko, Oklahoma City PD."

A nod at his badge.

"You a cop?"

[mnt_raph]

Raph snerks, and lifts up his badge for her perusal. It reads Milliways Security.

"Hardly. Just a bouncer. This is my ticket to the show, on the off chance the doors go disappearin'."

[headed4hell]

"Since when do bouncers need badges."

Damn, Earl's thorough.

"They do that a lot?"

[watching_you]

The voice is very, very faintly familiar, but the face isn't.

From further along the bar, Raph's got himself a watcher.

[mnt_raph]

Raph knows the feeling well, and even though it's been years since he's had to hide in the shadows, he can't help but chafe under the weight of someone else's stare.

He doesn't look up, but rather continues to nurse his own beer.

"If I buy you a drink, will you look somewhere else?"

[watching_you]

"S'okay, I can pay for my own beer."

Being and Difficult are Veronica's middle names!

[mnt_raph]

"Suit yourself."

He shakes his head.

"You want my honest opinion though? There's far more in'restin' thing to look at in here than me."

[watching_you]

"I don't doubt it," she replies with a shrug, opting for honesty. "That's not why I'm looking.

"I think I might know you from somewhere."

[mnt_raph]

"That so. Makes sense, I got one of them faces."

He takes one final pull from his drink before turning and looking at Veronica. Raph's eyes narrow. Then his brow furrows.

"Veronica freakin' Mars. Mithros, how the fuck you been?"

[watching_you]

She blinks.

"...Good? Thanks?"

Now she's even more confused.

"Okay, I'm glad I wasn't wrong. But you've clearly solved this one before I have."

[mnt_raph]

"You got no idea, huh? I been gettin' that a lot."

He wipes his nose with the back of his hand.

"Mike's brother Raph."

Never in his whole life did he EVER think he'd be introducing himself this way.

[watching_you]

Well, the voice fits.

"Raph. Raph? You look --"

Different.

"-- Good."

[mnt_raph]

Oh yeah, he's buying that.

"Yeah, I been gettin' that a lot. Time ain't been too good to me. What'cha gonna do, right?"

[watching_you]

Aw. Now she feels bad. Sorta.

"Hey. We can't all be hot blondes."