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It happens to be July 4th in Alyx Vance's world as well as according to the local calendar, and the residents of the Greenbrier bunker are in a festive mood. Granted, a significant number of the personnel at the Greenbrieir aren't American, but there are still a lot of people for whom this date holds significance. Unfortunately, there's not much in the way of traditional Independence Day festivities to be had. There's not enough spare supplies for a barbecue, watermelon wasn't among the seeds they've been cultivating, and fireworks are, of course, out of the question.

Which hasn't stopped Floyd Mason from pestering Jan ten Boom about making some pyrotechnics. And whining at Alyx when ten Boom said "not a chance in hell."

That would be why Alyx Vance is in Milliways now. She doesn't care if she's still breastfeeding, she needs a drink, dammit.

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There is a man in combat gear nearby.

Contrary to his usual behavior, he is resting his head facedown on the table, and he is very, very quiet.

It might have something to do with the icepack he's holding to his crotch.

Which, in turn, might have something to do with his pyramid practice the other day.

"...the hell did you do to yourself this time?"

"Pyramid practice. Ball took a bad bounce. Off the backboard."

See? It wasn't totally his fault.

"I assume that's some kind of sport?"

"Yup. Anders got a league started. Put up lotsa notices. All over Bar."

For clarification:

"He's the guy who brought it here."

"Sorry, I've been kinda preoccupied lately... um... can I get you anything?"

"Analgesics."

Analgesics would be good.

"I'll be right back," promises Alyx.

A minute later, she returns with a blister pack of pain medication.

A blister pack that Voodoo takes, cracks open, and pops three pills from.

"Th'nks," he mumbles.

"You're welcome. Just wear a cup next time." She returns to her table and to her drink. "Oh, Mama's missed you..."

Voodoo does not do the whole 'Mama/Papa' thing with his drinks. And he has never, ever understood people who did.

"...'Mama'?"

So he's side-eyeing you, Alyx. And wondering if FAS is something that's possible to acquire after birth.

"What? This is the first drink I've had in almost a year."

...Voodoo still thinks it's weird.

Eventually, with a shake of his head and a "Whatever," he turns his attentions back to the painkillers.

Well, she's not the only one there from the Greenbrier community drinking today. Although she's the one doing so without the company or assistance of several blue-striped eyeball dogs.

Shephard glances up from his beer (the houndeyes have water) and raises a hand in greeting.

Alyx nods in return before lifting her glass and inhaling the aroma. (This is the first drink she's had in eleven months, and probably the last one she'll have for a while yet. She wants to savor this.)

He's not gonna argue. Dry spells are a terrible thing.

"Finally got yourself a breather, huh?" he says, but not until after she's had some quality time with the glass.

"Only because I managed to get in here while Mason wasn't looking," says Alyx wearily.

"You got my sympathies, ma'am," Shephard says. "I c'n talk to him if you want. Promise it's just gonna be talkin', too."

"If you think that'll help, be my guest," says Alyx, taking a pull at her drink. "He's been whining at me that, and I quote, 'There's no point in having someone around named ten Boom if he won't make firecrackers.'"

"That ain't his job," says Shephard. "Man does explosives, sure, but only on account of that's what they needed for the railroad sabotage. We got shitloads of better demo guys around."

"And even if he was in demo, we are not having a fireworks display. Period."

"Yeah, no," says Shephard. "I'll talk to him. We got enough shit to deal with, without showing ourselves up or burnin' the place down."

"Thank you."

Another long drink.

"Mind if I run him into the ground if he gives me lip? He's been lookin' kinda soft lately. Reckon he'd be less of a pain in the ass if he was too tired to ask stupid questions."

"Shephard, at this point you have my permission to do anything you want to him that doesn't result in screaming babies or structural damage to the bunker," says Alyx. "And you can quote me on that."

Edited 2012-07-05 22:24 (UTC)

"I'll remember that," promises Shephard, and offers a small, sunny, friendly sort of half-smile. "Thank you kindly, Ms. Vance. I will be certain to remember that."

(No profanities, and perfect English grammar and usage throughout. Floyd, start running now.)

Alyx smirks back a little.

"So, anything else of interest to report?"

"If a blind troll name of Terezi offers you chili, for the love of all that is holy and good in this world, ma'am, do not fuckin' eat it," Shephard says. "I'm thinkin' of bringin' that shit to Mari so's he's got a substitute for that bullet ant shit his people do."

"Oh yeah, I met her," says Alyx. "And I'm not about to eat anything a troll offers me. Trust me."

"Far as I can tell she got it from a human cook," says Shephard, "but that don't make it any safer. Might drop some in front of Voodoo sometime, though, see how long that asshole's still got feeling in his lips."

"...okay, the words 'asshole' and 'lips' so close together puts bad images in my head."

"Sorry," says Shephard. "I don't even think about that kind of shit half the time."

(He's really, really hoping that when certain bodily processes start moving again, he won't be in as much pain as he remembers from the eating process.)

"Other'n that, I mostly been workin' on organizing all the shit I c'n manage back at Greenbrier'n comin' here to work with the pups'n the new hand. Thing's turning out to be a mighty fine piece of work, I don't mind tellin' you."

"And how are the pups doing?"

"See for yourself," says Shephard, indicating the handful that came with him. "These're Chester, Horatio, Fran, 'n Alene. Make nice, you."

The houndeyes turn and blink in Alyx's direction, scrambling over to wiggle happily in front of her feet. A proper dog would be wagging its tail and putting its head on her knees, by the look of things.

Alyx can't help but smile a little at that. "They are pretty cute for a bunch of alien monstrosities, aren't they."

"Roll over, Chester," says Shephard. There's a mrrip? sound, and then one of the darker-barred males backs up and flops himself onto the floor, paws wiggling in the air.

"Roll, not 'play dead'," says Shephard, and shakes his head. "We got to work on that one. Sorry, ma'am."

"They're young yet, they'll learn."

Alyx takes another sip of her drink and her face turns serious again. "You know Charlie Szaz? White guy who usually wears a blank mask? He was at the wedding..."

"... think so," says Shephard after a while. "Think he showed up for a drink when I was tending bar, once. Why?"

"He's expressed an interest in coming to our world on a more permanent basis."

"Uh huh," says Shephard, who does not sound particularly impressed with the idea. "He say why?"

"He seems to be unable to ever go back to his own world," says Alyx. "And he says he doesn't want to be a fighter anymore, but helping us rebuild sounds appealing."

Yeah, Alyx is a little skeptical herself.

"Ain't that nice of him," says Shephard. "How long's he plan on stayin' this time?"

"Permanently. If he does it at all," says Alyx. "I told him that he needed to be sure of what he was getting into, and that I needed to be sure that he would actually be of some use instead of just using up our resources, before I would consider his request."

Shephard grunts. "Fair 'nough," he says. "Gon' be mighty interesting, he actually manages to pull shit like that off."

He doesn't sound optimistic. But hey, far be it from him to... oh, who's he kidding. He doesn't sound optimistic at all.

"Yeahh, I'm not overly optimistic myself, given how he fared in City 17," admits Alyx. "He didn't want to use guns or any kind of lethal force, and when it was all over he admitted he wasn't cut out to be a soldier in a real war."

Shephard almost goes to bite down on his right thumb, but the fact that he's got Kanaya's elbow glove on catches his eye, and he stops. With a faint sigh he notes, "I ever tell you 'bout the flood when I was five? Big fucker. Century flood, they called it- the kind of thing the Cheat only does once in a hunnert years. Drowned a shitload of Rowlesburg'n Albright, pretty much washed Manheim off the map. It was fuckin' years before we got over that son of a bitch. I'm bringin' it up on account of there were a shitload of folks comin' down from up north or in from other parts of the country to work on the rebuilding. We didn't ask 'em to stay or nothin', and most of 'em didn't hang around longer'n a couple months."

"Way I see it, before a man like that moves in with us, I'm thinkin' he ought to do a six week stint of hard fuckin' work in hard fuckin' conditions'n see if it's the kind of thing suits his tastes for day-in-day-out living, all the rest of his days. It ain't a thing you take lightly."

Alyx nods thoughtfully. "I'll take it into consideration," she says. "Thank you again, Shephard."

"Any time, ma'am. Man ain't bein' conscripted, so we want to make absofuckinlutely sure he knows what kind of shit he's getting his ass into. Ain't nothin' wrong with washin' out if that kind of service ain't what he's ready for."

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