milliways_bar | (no subject)

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When the door shows up for Beckett for the second day in a row, it comes as a bit of a surprise to her, but she heads toward the bar without hesitation, hoping to at least get a cup of decaf out of the deal.

Instead of a cup, a napkin appears in front of her. She reads it with a frown.

"Really?"

Another napkin appears. Beckett reads that one, too.

"Alright," she finally agrees, shoulders sagging in surrender, and slides under the bar to set everything up.

"Just so you know, I'm not very good at--" A third napkin appears and interrupts her. "Fine. But you're going to have to help me."

The specials board immediately changes to a list with Bar's handwriting:

HAPPY HOUR

Cop Car
E Pluribus Unum
Holly Golightly

Beer, wine and other mixed drinks available upon request.

Beckett's eyes read over the list and she makes a face.

"Funny."

A fourth napkin appears: this one with just a smiling face drawn on.

[tiny first time bartender tag: kate beckett]

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"It's...a liquor in of itself. Sorry, I forget that I'm the only one in the 'verse that manages to drink it and like it."

The apology does actually sound nearly sincere. Mal is used to confusing people.

"Bar should be able to scrounge you up a glass."

She's still skeptical, but he's managed to trick her before, and after running into Bill the other day, she doesn't want to take any chances.

Behind Beckett, a bottle starts to shift and move on one of the shelves, nudging others out of the way and pushing itself to the front. She looks over her shoulder to pluck it up with a thank you mentally tossed up to Bar.

Pouring him a glass, she gently slides it over to him.

"Most people don't like it?"

Mal takes the glass, saluting to Beckett with it.

"You want to try it? I'll give you a chit if you like it."

He's betting coin, lady.

The way he addresses her makes it plain and clear that he doesn't know her. She concludes that it's just a very strong resemblance to Castle and moves on.

Though he does know how to issue a challenge the same way, which pleases her.

"I could try it," Beckett decides, reaching for a smaller glass and pouring enough for a sufficient mouthful before tipping the contents back between her lips.

It's strong, but she does her best not to flinch too much.

Mal smirks, digging in his brown duster pocket to flip the small silver coin to Beckett's grasp.

"Good job." The glass gets placed down again so Mal can extend a hand. "Mal Reynolds."

Beckett prides herself on having a good poker face. It's how she intimidates potential suspects, at least.

"Kate Beckett," she answers, taking the offered hand and shaking it firmly. "Can I just say: I have no idea how you drink that stuff on a regular basis."

"Not many do, miss, I promise, least of all folk who've only known me for two minutes. The prevailin' theory is that I've burned off most o' my taste buds."

[ooc: I just tried to fall asleep on my laptop. Stupid brother's 21st birthday. I think I might finish the Castle ep on TV atm and go to bed?]

"That would explain it," Beckett answers. "Though I wonder if that affects your ability to taste anything else."

[ooc: Aww, sleep! We'll pick up later. I'm watching the episode too, actually. :D]

"Not much taste to molded protein either."

Blech.

"When're you from?"

"New York," she explains. "It's 2009 where I'm from. And yourself?"

"2522. Coming up on 2523 soon enough. I captain a ship, so the where of things gets to be somewhat more complicated to explain."

It takes Beckett a second to completely register the concept of someone coming from the future, only having met people from the past.

"A ship... in space?"

"Most planets in my where and when don't precisely have oceans, so shi a, space.

"Seriously, one of these days I will meet someone here who don't sound all shocked when I tell 'em that."

"Sorry," Beckett says. "You're just the first person I've met who lives hundreds of years after me."

The smirk is back. It's a common enough expression.

"At least I know I'll be memorable then, Kate."

There's a reflex that's tempted to correct - Beckett, actually - but she keeps her mouth shut.

"Oh, very memorable," she agrees, grinning.

Sad -- he'd probably prefer 'Beckett'. Too many Kates in the 'verse.

"What do you do at home? 'Less you're Bound here, of course."

"I'm a cop," Beckett replies. "With the New York police department. Homicide. And I actually haven't had the unfortunate luck of being Bound just yet."

She's tempted to knock on wood surreptitiously, but curbs the urge.

"I always meat the feds," Mal mumbles, rolling his eyes. "Homicide though.

"You choose that?"

"It was my decision," Beckett says, breezing past the other comment as if she hasn't heard it - which she hasn't. "Though I tend to go for the somewhat more unusual cases - the ones without an easy answer."

The Ng Ka Pe is mostly drained from Mal's glass now, his elbow meeting the glass's side and he leans against Bar to concentrate.

"You like the challenge."

"That's right," Beckett murmurs, half-surprised by the correct guess. Though all of Castle's doppelgangers have proved to be just as observant as he, so she doesn't know why she's surprised.

"So how does captaining a ship work out for you?"

"It's...a challenge. But it's my home; hard to complain about when it is everything you have."

"Seems like nothing comes without its fair share of challenges. But it's nice to have that piece of stability," Beckett says.

"It's a Firefly," Mal laughs. To explain: "When bits fall off your ship, there's only so much 'stability' you can actually claim."