milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Grace is pissed.

For the moment she's hiding it well beneath her casual disregard for anything around her other than the Budweiser in her hand, but her friends would notice something simmering under the disinterest.

Good thing they aren't here.

She'd left the bar and the surprise family cabal only to find Earl sitting at her counter with the freaking brochures she'd just thrown away. Belching, she deleted her sister's messages and ignored Earl's latest attempts to impress upon her the importance of family values. It was a relief when he flashed the wings and disappeared to Vegas or the Titanic or wherever the hell he said he was going. She doesn't care. She never cares.

But she doesn't feel like being alone. These days, that means finding Mike and making some trouble, so here she is, lurking around the main bar with a beer and a somewhat vacant expression, waiting for trouble. Yee-haw.

[OOC: Also for car keys, all are welcome, slowtime likely, etc.]

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She looks tired, even Sonya could see that-something else she recognizes in herself. "Not a problem. Even Milliways can seem too crowded for its own good."

Ironic that the one place to get away from it all, it's still hard to get away. "Which is it, rough week or rough month?" No one got that exhuasted just in one day."

Grace laughs.

"Rough life. Sisters, you know?"

She glances away, watching a man across the room, grinning.

"Not really. Brothers yes..sisters.." Well, the women she's worked with in the army atleast. "Annoying yes, but I'd hardly call dealing with them rough."

She held out her hand. "Sonya Blade, Army." The last part was just because.

"I've got both. Brothers aren't so big a pain in my ass."

She snorts.

"'Cept for the priest."

The one who suggested she bring her 'angel friend' on the freaking family cruise Paige wants to take. Johnny is such an asshole.

"Grace Hanadarko. OKC PD, Major Crimes." Finishing her beer, Grace reaches out and gives Sonya's hand a hard shake.

"I'm not even going to ask what you did to bring a priest on your ass." The worst she had to deal with was the company chaplain insisting she take therapy.

Sonya returns the handshake, her own grip firm. "You make it sound like your personal life's harder then your work one."

Which, to be fair, least she had a personal life. Sonya was beginning to wonder if hers even existed anymore.

"He's my brother. I've tried to shake him, believe me."

Sitting back, Grace taps a fresh cigarette from her pack and runs the filter over her lips, staring at Sonya with a flat expression.

"That's a hell of a competition." She flicks her lighter and inhales until her lungs are about to burst with smoke. "The shit I see as a cop... well, you'd know. Being army."

On the other hand: Earl.

Least your brother's alive, she answered in her own head. She'd rather her brother be annoying then dead.

"Special Forces, and I have no personal life outside of it, so anything is a competition." She had no problem admitting what was true. Maybe that was why milliways appeared to her in the first place.

Her brother is. One of her sisters isn't. That's on Grace.

She knows all about regret.

"What about within it? No dating where you work?" A sharp laugh. "'Course you've got this place."

Sonya wasn't sure which way to respond: after her experience with Lance, going full snark didn't seem the way to go.

"Army's worse then high school and privacy's non existent. Word would get around that I was sleeping with one of the other officers-or worse an enlisted..at best, one of us might be transferred out, depending on the rest of our conduct on file. At worst it's court martial and getting discharged."

"In short, too fucking complicated to bother." And the last thing Sonya wanted was a complicated relationship on the side.

"As for this place, I've considered it, but unfortunately the work stress just puts a damper on things." It was true, even when she was 'free', one-night stands didn't really get her interest anymore-even having sex for sex required a level of trust she wasn't willing to give out.

"Damn."

The corner of her mouth twitches higher. It's not that the Oklahoma City PD doesn't have similar rules and regulations, formal or informal; it's that Grace just doesn't care.

Granted, there's no risk of court martial and Captain Perry much knows Grace's shenanigans don't impact her work. As for this place? Well. Let's just say Grace isn't inhibited by any work stress. Or any type of stress.

"So what d'you do for fun, Sonya Blade?" she asks, full-on smiling now.

"You ever wonder why many soldiers on leave immediately go to wives, girlfriends or hookups?" She smirked, figuring the answer was easy enough.

The mention of doing things for fun made her smirk back: since when did she have much freetime to do things for fun outside of milliways.

"Not counting anything to do with training. I enjoy nature hikes and reading, also having a good card game." Mostly with the guys, but that might go without saying.

"'Cept for you," Grace says.

It's easy, really: Grace has time for fun because she doesn't much prioritize sleep.

"I like cards." She grins. "The guys and I've played our fair share of strip poker. And darts, down at Louie's. I like darts. You play pool?"

"The thing about one night stands, even they require a level of trust." Something she wasn't sure she had anymore, not on that level. "Have to trust the guy isn't a sleaze, I deal enough with that while on duty."

It was always duty, never just work.

"Yeah, I play pool and darts." A small smirk appeared on her face. "Love a good round of strip poker, have earned a good supply of night shirts that way."

The smile deepened as she thought back to those moments.

"For you," Grace clarifies, adding a wink and a laugh. "Other folks might approach things differently."

Naming no names.

"Nice. Why night shirts?" she asks conversationally. "And hey, need another drink?"

Sonya had been nice enough to offer the seat, after all.

"And you're not the only one to suggest it." Sonya was well aware of her appearence, but in the long run of her career, she never gave it much thought. Really, how did her appearance help on the job anyway-not a bit.

"Because for some reason a guy's shirt always feels more comfortable then what's made for women." Even now she had no clue why. "Plus, in secret I'm a soft touch and have to atleast give them back their pants."

She laughed. "Sure, what the hell.." Drinking alone wasn't something she liked to do, but in company was completely fine. "Draft, anything from Texas."

All this talk had her feeling nostalgic.

Grace shrugs. It's very much: to each her own.

"Never give them back their pants," Grace advises seriously, or perhaps not seriously at all; it's hard to tell. "Never." She snickers. "Yeah, I like a good man's shirt."

Or a bad man's shirt.

She collects clothing like a magpie does shiny things. It pisses Ham off.

Grace lets out a loud groan at Sonya's order. "Shit, you're a Texan?"

"These are the same guys that have my back in the line of duty. The least I could do is spare them some dignity-the fact that they know I can beat their asses is prize enough." Even if the eyecandy was nice.

Sonya may've been just a touch smug when admitting this. She also can't help but laugh at her reaction.

"Born and raised, up until I was five years old, then it was onto Georgia, then Alabama, then we spent a few years in Japan and back to the states for us." Somehow she was still able to remember most of the places she and her family moved. "Dad was in the army, so I can't exactly say I ever had a proper home town."

Just whistful nostalgia for one.

"Goddamn Texas."

Grace smirks. Really, isn't it best Sonya got out of that damn state early?

Texas.

"I've got a team. Best guys I know," she says, starting to laugh. "Dignity's not a big factor in our relationship."

For any of them.

"So where was your favorite place?"

"Before I even got into the military.." She thought a moment. "When we lived in England for six months, it was another country but we didn't need translators for everything. Was twelve years old at the time and dad let us spend the day in London once for Guy Fawkes day."

Fireworks, bonfires and food-what wasn't to like.

It was her turn to smirk. "My turn to ask, what the hell sort of experience did you have in Texas to hate it so much?" Part of her wondered if it was just a matter of principle.

Grace snorts. "Always thought that was ironic. Celebrating a failure to blow shit up by lighting bonfires all over the place."

It is often a matter of principle when it comes to football. Sitting back, Grace makes a show of widening her eyes and her arms in a come at me, bro posture.

"C'mon. I'm a Sooner. What'd you expect?"

"Actually the conspirators were killed-if there's one thing people love it's seeing a traitor getting offed." English, American, what have you-didn't matter if the monarch was a bastard, treason was still seen as a hot topic. "And an excuse to blow shit up, what's not to like."

She could only shrug at her posture. "I went to a military boarding school in way of high school, the only rivalry I care about is Army vs. Navy." And even then she couldn't really bring herself to care about that anymore.

"Mmmmmm," is all Grace says to that, both because there is actually nothing to argue and because she's a cop in Oklahoma City. She knows about traitors. She knows about things blowing up. She knows about revenge.

The flat expression is back.

"Catholic school," she adds at last, lifting her eyebrows in a brief sardonic expression. "Where'd you train?"

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