Ben Wade (
almosthonorable) wrote in
milliways_bar2012-01-26 01:09 pm
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[ happy hour ]
Ben Wade is greeted with a handful of surprises when he enters the bar.
One is delicious.
Another is unexpected, to say the least.
And the last, well. He never minds this particular request so much.
"Happy to," he tells the counter, while he withdraws what's sure to be a spectacular cherry tart from the basket at his elbow. "As long as you don't mind me askin' a favor of you."
A napkin appears.
"Now that's just lewd," he says, smirking. "Flattered as I am, I'll have to say no, ma'am. What I need is for you to hold on to a couple things for me -- if you'd be so kind, of course."
Moments later, Ben's signature black hat and his infamous gun are in Bar's care, where they'll remain for the next few weeks, if not months.
He gives the bartop an affectionate half-smile before rounding the counter, rolling up his shirtsleeves as he goes.
Not long afterward, the specials board bears his uniform scrawl.specials:
milk punch
bourbon
coffee
bourbon coffee
While he waits for customers, he helps himself to that tart -- which is, predictably, delectable -- and a glass of milk punch.
[ ooc:
no subject
"I feel like a drowned rat," Bill says, giving a nod of thanks before he starts adding sugar to his cup.
An indignant squeak from behind makes Bill turn, and he gives the wait rat standing there an apologetic look.
"No offense." Beat. "Sorry 'bout the floor."
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Ben already helped himself to the cherry tart, and a couple of those curious, delicate cookies in the tin.
They were among the best things Ben has ever put in his mouth.
(Which, of course. These are the fruits of Sunshine's genius labor, after all.)
no subject
Taking a careful sip of his coffee, Bill glances at the basket, then does a double-take.
"Really? Thanks."
He looks over what's there, then decides on a cinnamon roll.
"S'good," he says, licking a glob of icing off of his thumb. "I've had these before, they're awesome."
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"She a friend of yours, too?"
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"She was sellin' stuff out here awhile back. I probably bought half of what she had."
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A drop of water runs down his ear, and Bill wipes it away.
"Think I can get a towel from you?"
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A few yards away, a faint squeak of agreement can be heard.
Ben passes over a clean bar towel, and then another one, for good measure.
"Makin' arrests out there in the middle of a flood?"
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"Y'know, the bar back home don't ever complain about a little mess."
Bill drapes the towel around his neck, and turns back to Ben.
"No floodin' yet, but a big rain storm is tryin' to fix that. Nothin' like answerin' calls in a downpour."
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"Would you rather answer 'em in a drought?"
He's actually half-serious.
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"After a long Carolina summer I guess I can say no to that."
That doesn't mean Bill has to like the rain, though.
"Can't win for losin'."