Happy Hour

[ol-yellow-eyes.livejournal.com]

Data walks into the bar tonight in a tuxedo again. Why? No one knows. Well, maybe Data knows… You could try asking him.

He sits at the bar, intending to engage in his usual activity of observing people, when a napkin appears with a note written on it. Data's eyebrows raise slightly—one could almost say that his eyes light up—and he gets up to take his place behind the bar.

He removes his jacket and rolls up his sleeves before writing the specials on the board (with penmanship that is so consistent, it looks more typed than handwritten). Of course, it is not much of a list:

Specials:

Ask for a drink which is not in my current database, and your drink is free.

"Happy Hour is now open."

Comments

[says-the-booyah.livejournal.com]

"Hey, Data. What's with the tux?" Cy is so glad no one ever makes him wear one these days.

[ol-yellow-eyes.livejournal.com]

"Hello," Data greets. "I was on my way to the holodeck when Milliways appeared.

"Can I get you anything?"

[says-the-booyah.livejournal.com]

"The what-now?

"And can I get a milkshake?" He could ask for something from Starfire's world. Data might not have that. But then Cy would have to drink it.

[ol-yellow-eyes.livejournal.com]

"The holodeck," Data repeats. "It is a recreational facility that can be programmed to create different environments and characters through the use of holographic technology.

"And certainly. What kind of milkshake would you like?"

[gorgonfondness]

Mia looks over the special, Cepheus sitting on her hip and nomming on a teething ring.

"Hmmm. You wouldn't happen to have a purple cow in your drink database, would you?"

"Bwahbal," mumbles the baby around his ring.

[ol-yellow-eyes.livejournal.com]

"I have three, actually," Data tells her. "Two are alcoholic: one made with Vodka and grape juice, and the other with Kahlua, rasberry liqueur, and milk. The third is simply an ice cream soda. But if you are thinking of a different drink, that would count as one I do not know."

[gorgonfondness]

"The last one is the one I was thinking of. But I'd like it made with soda from Tamur, please. And I don't mind paying since you did have it in your database."

[ol-yellow-eyes.livejournal.com]

"As you like." Data nods and quickly sets to work.

As he hands it to her, he asks, "How have you been, recently?"

[notabricklayer.livejournal.com]

A certain country doctor is still in the bar, as part of a deal made with a certain Other. Considering he isn't currently moving like a zombie, making that deal was a fantastic choice.

"Glass of lemonade?" Yes, yes, he knows. But alcohol doesn't play nicely with terakine, and Olga probably will kill him if he purposefully invites adverse reactions.

[ol-yellow-eyes.livejournal.com]

"Certainly, Doctor," Data replies, and sets to work immediately.

"How are you this evening?"

[notabricklayer.livejournal.com]

"Oh, can't complain." If he were still on the Enterprise he most definitely could, but... there are compensations, here.

"They include tending bar in Star Fleet training, now?"

[ol-yellow-eyes.livejournal.com]

"No they do not," Data replies. "I simply happen to have read some things on the topic."

He hands Dr. McCoy his lemonade, and pauses.

"Was that intended as a joke?"

[killitwithfire]

"Not in your database, huh?" Axel muses, as he leans against the bartop.

[ol-yellow-eyes.livejournal.com]

"That is correct," Data replies.

"Also, if I know a drink by the same name that is prepared differently, the drink is free if you teach me how to make the one you are referring to."

[killitwithfire]

Axel drums his fingers thoughtfully for a minute - he's not one to pass up a challenge.

"Well," he says after a moment. "Got one I bet you've never seen, thing is? Never bothered t'give it a name."

[lasthalfmile]

Dan is studying the specials board from his seat at the bar, debating the odds at being able to come up with a drink that this man and his fine suit have never heard of.

He doubts it, but...it might be worth a shot.

[ol-yellow-eyes.livejournal.com]

"Hello," Data greets amiably. "Can I get something for you?"

[lasthalfmile]

Dan smiles politely.

"I was tryin' to think of something that you wouldn't know about, but I doubt I could manage to come up with a good enough idea...so I'll just take a glass of chocolate milk, if you wouldn't mind."

It's not his normal order, but he's had it a few times here before and it's different...and tonight Dan feels like something out of the usual.

[makesthings]

Sameth just wants something warm to drink and to maybe try and sleep upstairs, but when he sits down at the Bar, he ends up by Dan and puts his head in his hands. Some days, he really hates Milliways and how all the Dead are here.

[doc_rusty]

A small, bald man with very large glasses sidles up to the bar.

"Barkeep, Red Mocoa Kooler, if you please."

[ol-yellow-eyes.livejournal.com]

Data pauses.

"I have never heard of that drink," he says. "If you teach me how to make it, it is free."

[doc_rusty]

"Half Kahlua, half Hershey's chocolate syrup, with red Kool-aid powder sprinkled over top," Rusty explains. "In a pint glass."

[faeverte]

There's a luminescent green mist coalescing along the mahogany bar top, idly picking its way toward the android, and perhaps his fluid dynamics algorithms will reveal that the gaseous form is moving more as if it were a fine particulate moving underwater than smoke or water particles suspended in the air.

Iridescent sparks of light appear and fade throughout, and a thousand tiny fireflies wink their curiosity at him.

The longer he observes the mist, the more apparent it becomes that there is a form in the chaos. A long lithe female body stretched out along the bar top, prone, heels idly moving in the invisible current.

Two emerald green eyes glitter at him out of the mist.

"Bon nuit, cherie."

[ol-yellow-eyes.livejournal.com]

"Bon nuit," Data greets. His face betrays a level of interest that is somewhat higher than when he encounters your average patron of Milliways.

"Can I get something for you?"

[faeverte]

The dark eyes blink rapidly and the mists finally resolve into Vert's most opaque form. An impish face, crowned by a wreath of cool emerald flames. Her sleeveless gown is celadon water silk and covers her waif thin body, weighted only by a few strategically placed gems, all in the myriad shades of the sea. The silk clings to her slight curves until it has descended past her hips and then it flares into a full skirt, tatters and tendrils, all undulating in that slow moving, invisible current. The pale skin of her calves, ankles and feet are all in the same hues.

She turns her head and peers first over one shoulder and then over the other. Eventually, she lifts one elegant finger and points to herself, her brow furrowing.

"Moi?"