(no subject)

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon's been busy doing suit maintenance upstairs and forgot the deal he made with Bar earlier in the week. As a consequence he comes skidding down the banister and practically leaps over the bar- he just looked at the clock.

Specials

Any beverage whose country of origin is Austria
Also lemonade

Bartender Apologizes For His Tardiness



Happy Hour is go.

Comments

[gavemea_45]

"Hey."

The tall guy who comes up to the bar looks like he's been dragged over a couple of miles of bad road, but he doesn't seem to care.

"Can I get coffee? Black, strong?"

[acts_of_gord]

"Sure," says Gordon. He's seen that look before plenty of times, once or twice in the mirror. "Coming right up."

He'll make a point of getting down one of the extra-large mugs, too. Sometimes you need the extra kick in the pants.

"How's that look?"

[gavemea_45]

"Looks great. Thanks."

He shifts the weight of his messenger bag on his shoulder and digs in his jeans-pocket for cash.

"I'll probably come back for a couple more of them, too."

[acts_of_gord]

"They'll be ready," Gordon promises. "Pay when you come back for the next one, if you have to. Need a lid or anything?"

[gavemea_45]

"Nah, I think I've got it," he says, with the first sign of a smile that he's shown since walking up.

Sam dumps a crumpled twenty on the bar and looks at the guy, then sets the mug down and offers his hand.

"Sam. Winchester."

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon reaches over to shake the offered hand. "Gordon Freeman," he says. "Earth, 2021. Sounds like you had a hell of a day."

He doesn't normally pry or intrude when people're showing strain around the edges, but when you're behind a bar there are rules and expectations to be met. You don't get silent bartenders unless there's a chalkboard and an amusing case of laryngitis involved, or possibly communication in ASL.

[gavemea_45]

His grip is firm, his hand callused from work of some sort. At Gordon's words, Sam's small smile twists.

"You could say that, yeah."

It's dry as Sahara dust.

[gorgonfondness]

Here Gordon, have a Guildmaster in a mostly-soaked outfit holding a fussy baby.

Someone left the sink on in the bathroom just as the baby wanted some attention. She didn't react quickly enough to the resulting flood to save her clothes and caring for her son has exhausted her.

"Lemonade would be good, please," Mia says, gently rubbing Cepheus's back.

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon's expression is sympathetic as he reaches for the pitcher. "Coming right up," he says. "Need a towel while I'm at it?"

[gorgonfondness]

"I'd appreciate that," she says as the baby starts to calm down. "I'll be able to dry myself off in a moment, but I need a rest first."

She softly laughs.

"Someone didn't want to take his bath, I guess."

[acts_of_gord]

"Here, by all means."

Where the hell did the notifs go, LJ? Seriously?

Gordon hands over the towel and sets the glass down nearby. As he does so he adds, "How old is he, anyway?"

[gorgonfondness]

It's okay. Real Life called for a bit anyway.

"Thank you," she says, taking the towel and switching it out with the used burp cloth on her shoulder.

Mia doesn't particularly mind that she's wet. She can take care of that with other means.

"And he's...oh goodness, tomorrow is the first, isn't it? He'll be a month old, won't he?"

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon nods, leaning over for a closer look. "He looks like he's coming along well," he says. "Big, for his age. I think."

If the charts in the books are anything to go by, anyway.

[wheatencrown]

Demeter beams at Gordon and hops onto a bar stool so that she can kiss his cheek,

"Congatulations!"

[acts_of_gord]

"...."

Guess who only knows Demeter in her winter guise. Go on, guess.

[wheatencrown]

"I spoke to Alyx, twins are always auspicious. I forget if you have oracles in your world or not."

She leans back into her seat and keeps smiling.

[acts_of_gord]

"I... okay?" says Gordon. "I'm sorry, I don't think I know you."

Pause.

"Thank you for the congratulations, though."

[wheatencrown]

"Demeter and you're welcome."

[acts_of_gord]

"... you look good," Gordon finally manages. "I mean. Last time, I-"

He waves vaguely towards her hair, which he distinctly remembers as being shorter and grey. He'll deal with the rest later.

[vance_prime]

Here, have a pregnant fiancée.

"That's not the alcoholic lemonade, is it?"

[acts_of_gord]

"Nope," says Gordon with a small smile, and reaches for the pitcher. "First non-alcoholic drink I could think of that wasn't coffee or soda. How big a glass do you want?"

[vance_prime]

"One of those pint glasses, please. No ice."

[acts_of_gord]

"Sure thing," Gordon says. As he starts pouring he asks, "How's today been? I figured you needed a rest, or I'd've come looking for you."

[vance_prime]

"Mmm... alright. Getting a little tired of people fussing over me."

Unfortunately, that's probably only going to get worse as her pregnancy progresses.

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon smiles a little. "Congratulations," he says, and passes her the glass. "I think you might wind up more famous than I am."