milliways_bar | (no subject)

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It's been a while. Months.

But there's a blonde behind the bar.
Wiping down, humming South of Heaven.
The sign is hanging off to one side of her.

Happy Hour

Fallen Angel
Head Hunter
Rebel Yell

1/2 off your drink if you donate
to the Milli-Kids Fund for Christmas

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"Bendy is always good." Jo grinned.

"And I'm the only one who gets a knife in my bed."

"That's what she said."

No really, that is what she said.

She did make the statement first. Openly.
"I'd totally run circles around a circus man."
There was no hesitation or humility in the words.

How many people interviewed talking about being covered in oil?

Not nearly as many as Mike would have liked, that's for sure.

"I have not a single doubt in my mind about that," he says with a wide grin.

His brow furrows.

"Do I want a Shirley Temple? Or a Cremescicle milkshake?"

"Depends." She held her hands up.

"Are we in more of a sunset mood, or a cherry one."

How did these unruly, impossible conversations happen.

Mike's face becomes a window to the internal war he is now mentally engaged in, against himself.

Finally, when he can endure no longer...

"It has been such a long time since I've had a good cherry."
The moment that's out Mike flops forward onto Bar's top and hides his face with his hands.

Jo managed a straight face two whole seconds.

Before the snort. Sputter. Laughing into a hand.

"Well, if that wasn't a personal problem, if I ever heard one."

A hand went on her hip. "'N here I heard things were good with the missus."

"Oh they're good," he says into Bar's top. "It's just real life keeps getting in the way of my sex life. She has adventures, and my dad is living with us now..."

"Oh...my." Jo pressed her lips together.
That was a more real cringe happening.

"You're make the elephant sound good."

"And you're only aimed for a sugar drink?"

Edited 2011-12-17 05:07 (UTC)

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm too tired, and out of fighting shape, to handle chain-mail bikini babes."

His head lolls to one side and he looks up at her.

"Elephants make great pets."

Poor guy. She doesn't move him.

"Does a mini-phant really count?"

Jo grabbed a tall glass. Set it near him.
A Sprite by that. Rifling for the grenadine.

"I would think so, yeah.

...

Maybe only half though."

Half a cup of ice. About three-forth soda.
A fifth of the red syrup. Stopping.

To lick it off her thumb, while talking.
"As would be only fitting. At that size."

Find the cherries. And one loopy kid's straw.

"Definitely has to be easier to keep, that small."

Edited 2011-12-17 05:40 (UTC)

"The litter box is more manageable than it would be if she was full size, that's for sure."

CRAZY STRAW FTW!!!

Kid drinks totally get kids straws.
Jo's Completely Serious Face says so.

"Wouldn't know about that. I never had a pet."

Unless you count crotchety old men, with death toll habits.

"No? That's kind of sad. Everyone should have a pet. At least, that's what I tried to convince Splinter of every time I brought a new animal home."

"You did it that often?"

"Preeeeeeetty much, yeah. I was sixteen before he'd allow it. And even then it was really only because we were living at someone else's house at the time."

Jo has a great mental image.

Of a turtle carrying various animals.

"What did you finally get to keep?"

"A kitten."

Mike can't help but smile at the memory.

"Seemed only fair, he did help me foil a smuggling ring, and it was Christmas. Buuuuut, it was really April that made the difference."

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