milliways_bar | (no subject)

"You are planning an attack?"

X tilts her head a little, approaching Mike from one side.

Why else would Mr. Onion require crippling?

"More like a retaliation," he grumbles drawing another card.

I'm winning, proclaims a napkin in X's general direction.

"Oh."

X takes a seat on a barstool, shifting so she can see the layout of the game.

"It requires strategy? The game."

Now that Bar has clued her in.

"Something like that," he says sourly.

Then he stops.
Blinks.
And turns his attention to X.

"How're you doing?"

Because you can't lose if you don't play.

"I am okay," X says.

Her hair is shoulder-length where before it reached her waist.

Too bad Mike missed the equivalent of a buzz cut. It was sexy.

"You have been busy? Here."

Mike blinks at her, because there is something different about her, but he can't put his finger on it.

Bar just...well, does what ever her equivalent of a facepalm is.

"As ever, which means pretty much not at all. You know how it goes."

Doesn't she?

"You have not made brownies?"

Oh, she remembers hearing about those.

And --

Is she actually teasing?

"Nah, wasn't feeling up to it."

beat.

"You're making fun of me, aren't you..."

X gives him a blank look.

But --

"I am practicing."

Beat.

"It is effective?"

Mike considers this with the air of someone who knows a thing or two about poking fun.

"I'd say as burns go it's certainly a great jumping off point. Subtle, but with a hint of burnt hair and ego."

X looks slightly baffled.

"Okay."

Beat.

"I will remember."

And she might ask Meg about burns in the context of jokes.

And puns.

Mike grins at the baffled look.
He knows it means he's winning, and really that's such a nice change of pace all things considered.

"That'a girl," he says with a grin. "Can we get you something?"

"A root beer float would be okay."

Beat.

"With a curly straw."

X's version of this game still has training wheels. But maybe one day it won't.

One can always hope!

"Well that's easy enough to come by."

Mike, for his part, gives Bar a gentle pat on her top and a few moments later a root beer float complete with curly straw appears before X

"Thank you," X says, very seriously.

And after taking several long sips --

"We still have not found West's head."

Beat.

"And I do not know where to look."

As segues go, it's kind of awful. But Mike is the Barman. Maybe he knows where the good hiding places are.

Beat.

Beat the second.

"Wait...WHAT?!"

"West's head," X repeats. Carefully.

"He died. And was mutilated. The head is missing."

Beat.

"There are four likely suspects."

In case that is helpful information.

"How...how...but...you guys lost the head?"

"No. It was not with the body. And I could find a scent trail to backtrack."

Loompas are wily.

Beat.

"And his arm was in a tree."

It's then that he does the only thing left for him to do.

Mike facepalms.

"at what point did we lose control here?"

X shrugs, one-shouldered and quick.

"I do not know."

Beat.

"But I will find out who did it."

This pause is longer.

"You do not know where people would hide it?"

Mike slumps down on Bar, hiding his face in his arms.

"that is so not the thing I want to hear...."

His shoulders rise and fall as he takes a gigantic deep breath. One intended to calm his nerves and steel his resolve.

"tried the lost and found?" he says with gallow humor tainting his voice.

"No. It is a good place to hide things?"

Really?

It seems -- counterintuitive.

X has obviously never seen the lost and found box.

"not really," he admits to Bar's top. "it's just where all hidden things can go. if you've ever misplaced it, it's in there..."

"Oh."

Bar very politely provides a note telling X that the lost and found is behind the Bar.

Since Mike is busy hiding.

"Thank you," X says, very seriously.

Then she slips behind Bar and cracks open the Tupperware container.

The clown wig is right out. As is the evilly glowing black crystal. The white and purple puffball creature with springy legs gets shoved back in, too.

And as the pile of items next to X grows taller --

She stops.

"There are plastic bags? Back here. I do not think it is safe for West's head to be near food. Or drink."

Beat.

"It is not very well preserved."

It looks like she has a winner.

Edited 2009-08-27 04:12 (UTC)

Mike looks up.

"You didn't."

Then the smell hits him.

"Oh yeah...you totally did. Uh...Bar? Trashbags. Please. Trashbags and those little pine tree air freshener thingers...like...STAT!"

"Thank you," X says, triple-bagging the head and carefully moving around to the other side of the bar.

"I will put it in the infirmary."

Beat.

"Hank has air freshener that he uses. At home. For the infirmary. It is more effective than pine trees."

In case Mike would like to use it.

"That is...uh...that's great to know, X. Thanks."

She's mocking him again, isn't she?

"I'm uh...glad I could help you get a head on the case...or something."

"That," X says, very, very seriously, "was not funny."

And then she and West's head --

Head into the infirmary.

(That is not funny, either. Really.)