(no subject)

[stilljustandrew]

The front door opens, and in steps Andrew Wells, hands in his pockets and shoulders slightly slumped.

He's got a note to leave -- but it turns out the intended recepient is already here.



After that conversation, Andrew finds himself in a somewhat better mood -- right up until he reads the note that's been left for him since he was last here.

He's sitting at the bar reading it. Feel free to interrupt him; it's not like the words have changed since the last three times he read it.




[ETA: Mun has gone to bed. Thread is open until it scrolls off the front page.]

Comments

((I had to! Sorry!))

[betterthantruth.livejournal.com]

There are few things so innately mesmerizing as other people's notes. Of course, it would be far beyond Garak's sensibilities to simply sneak a peek over someone's shoulder, but the temptation is there, crystal clear and sizzling his need for knowledge big and small.

More importantly, he has always held a great appreciation for conversation. Judging from the young human's earlier one-on-one with the green fellow, Garak has surmised two things: that he can hold his own, and that he isn't directly averse to something a bit more detailed than the rather bland canvas of the human race.

So he sidles his way up to the bar, and picks up the cup of Rokassa juice as it materializes in an impressive imitation of replicator technology. Impressive for others, that is. Garak rather gets the impression Bar doesn't like him. But that is neither here nor there.

"May I?" Indicating the nearest vacant seat.

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew glances up, and narrowly suppresses a doubletake.

And nods at the seat. "Sure."

[betterthantruth.livejournal.com]

"Thank you kindly," Garak says with an amiable smile as he takes a seat. "My name is Garak - a fairly new patron of this establishment, as I'm sure you've realized. After all, how many Cardassians do you get at the end of the universe?"

[stilljustandrew]

"Not many at all," Andrew says obligingly. "I'm pretty sure you're the first one I've actually met. My name's Andrew Wells." Beat. "Human. Uh, Terran."

[betterthantruth.livejournal.com]

The Cardassian's eyes narrow minutely at the term, and he wonders just why someone clearly not from any Earth he knows of would know to use it. Terran.

Not to mention, this young Terran knows of Cardassians. As such, that makes him the first.

"The pleasure is all mine, Andrew Wells. Were this my neighbourhood bar, I might suggest you drop by my shop, but as it isn't, that would be rather a moot point. I am a tailor, and I am looking for new friends and customers, wherever I can."

[stilljustandrew]

"Well, this is an excellent place to make new friends." Andrew raises his glass to Garak, in a not entirely ironic toast.

[betterthantruth.livejournal.com]

With a small, somehow enigmatically indulgent twitch of a smile, Garak raises his cup of Rokassa. It smells like something between fish soup and thai paste made of fermented shrimp - pungent, and not entirely pleasant.

"It is certainly just as good as any other. But tell me, Andrew. What brings you here tonight? You will, I trust, forgive me for asking. I could not help but notice the... how is it one puts it? The long face. I am afraid it does not suit you at all."

[stilljustandrew]

He can't help smiling. Garak always was one of his favorites.

"There's a joke about that," he says. "About a -- have you ever seen a horse? Or a picture of one?"

[betterthantruth.livejournal.com]

"I don't believe I have."

The blatant tone of amusement laced through his voice could be for any reason. Surely, he isn't lying just to see how Andrew would describe a horse. Of course he wouldn't.

[stilljustandrew]

Of course.

"It's, uh --" He turns to the bartop. "Bar? Can I get a copy of The Black Stallion? The edition the library had when I was a kid?"

The book appears; Andrew picks it up and holds it out, showing Garak the cover. "That's a horse."

[betterthantruth.livejournal.com]

And Garak, in turn, gives his new friend points for thinking on his feet. "Ahh. Quite the impressive creature.

"Please, do go on."

[stilljustandrew]

"So the joke goes: a horse walks into a bar, and the bartender says, 'Hey, why the long face?'"



:D?

[betterthantruth.livejournal.com]

... That's about as clever as asking a Ferengi why he has a wrinkled nose. Humans and their collective sense of humour, Garak will never begin to understand.

"I'm afraid I find that attempt at levity sadly lacking."

[gavemea_45]

As weird as Palo Alto could be sometimes, Los Angeles is weirder.

Or maybe that's just Hollywood.

Either way, it doesn't matter -- they've seen the last of it, for now at least. By silent-yet-mutual agreement, they'd gotten some ways out of town before finding a place to stop for the night.

He's not tired enough yet to sleep, though. Instead, Sam comes into the room, and after a quick glance around heads for the bar.

"Hey, Andrew."

[stilljustandrew]

He glances up quickly from the note in his hands.

"Sam. Hi."

[gavemea_45]

"How goes?"

He walks up beside the shorter guy and eyes the bar for a second or two before asking for a Coke.

[stilljustandrew]

"...Interestingly," Andrew says after a judicious pause.

A beat.

"Council passed sentence this morning," he adds, a bit soberly.

[gavemea_45]

This gets Sam's full attention.

"Did they."

A beat.

"And?"

[stilljustandrew]

He breathes out. "Beth loses her Slayer powers," he says. "As soon as Ms. Harkness and her people finish refining the spell."

[gavemea_45]

He grows very still.

"Is she okay?"

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew nods. "I think so. She took it pretty calmly. And ... I just talked to a friend of hers, here, and he seems to think this is the best thing that could ever happen to her."

[gavemea_45]

His shoulders slump a little, and Sam nods.

"Good. I'm glad."

A beat, and, quietly,

"You did it."

[stilljustandrew]

"We did, yeah." He sighs. "I just hope it doesn't come around down the line and bite us in the posterity."

[gavemea_45]

"How do you mean?"

He turns to face Andrew a little more, clearly paying closer attention now.

[stilljustandrew]

A shrug. "Someone's bound to think we let her off too easy. We're gonna have to keep a close watch to make sure no one else decides that going after her to finish the job was a good idea."