milliways_bar | (no subject)

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It may not be quite the same surprise as before, but Emerson's entrance into the bar this time is still something of a nasty shock.

On the other hand, he had been craving a snack after lunch, and this doesn't require him to leave his office.

After briefly weighing his options, Emerson walks over to the bar, and orders a glass of ice cream. Instead, a strawberry-kiwi smoothie appears.

"Not what I ordered," he protests. The smoothie remains.

Emerson lifts the straw in the glass, testing the smoothie's consistency. While his craving had been for ice cream, he also did not wish to repeat the "Pooh" incident. He takes a small sip.

"Not bad," he concedes.

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Emerson sighs.

"Exactly what I needed."

Even if he can't share the extent to which he means it with Olive.

"And what does that mean?"

She looks at him with one eyebrow raised. (All right, so she's not exactly listening to his narration.)

"More excitement."

Unlike others, Emerson can lie. Consistently.

"Mmhmm," she says, in an uncanny imitation of Emerson himself.

"So you've met this girl, then?"

"Not sure what you're talking about," Emerson answers, shaking his head.

"All I know is, I don't need giant robots or dead people."

And leaving this place will only take care of the former, it seems.

"Well, you got a door, right?"

She eyes his smoothie. "I suspect you're not plannin' on rushin' out right this very second."

"... the food's not bad."

Trying not to sound defensive is one sort of lying at which Emerson is not very accomplished.

"True. Pie's not too shabby, either, though... of course Ned's is better."

"Haven't had the chance to compare."

Though he can suspect that even a Bar at the End of the Universe doesn't have Ned's secret ingredient.

Whatever that is...

"Well, you should give it a try," she says, invitingly.

He decides against sharing his earlier request, instead looking to the bar and announcing, "You heard her."

It takes a moment, but two slices rhubarb à la mode appear in front of them, along with small forks on folded napkins.

The ice cream may be sugar-free, at least.

"Mm." She rubs her hands together. "This looks good."

Emerson lifts his fork for the obligatory test.

"Not as good as Ned's," he agrees, after an appropriate amount of time to decide.

"Thought you'd agree," she says, but eating her pie anyway.

"I'm not gonna argue with that, Itty Bitty."

It doesn't even sound grumpy. Pie can have that effect on even the likes of Emerson Cod.

"That's a new one." She's cheerful. "Maybe you need to come in here more."

"Don't get your hopes up."

These things can only last for so long.

"Magic Bar or not, I got cases to work. Besides, I didn't think you and Pie Boy'd like the competition."

"That's true," she admits. "But... what are the chances our loyal customers are going to stumble onto this place?"

"Same chance as you?"

Or him, or presumably anyone else, for that matter.

"But you've got 'em beat for location."

Emerson doesn't believe pie goes well with a window to the end of the universe.

"What, don't like the view?"

"You like it?"

"Could be worse. Gives me an appetite."

Well... Olive has a strong stomach.

"I'm tryin' not to think about it."

Or he might lose his.

"Okay." She takes a big bite of pie. "They should put up some curtains, maybe."

Emerson makes an indistinct noise.

"Won't hide the giant robots."