Bartending

[troublesome_alchemist]

Mustang wasn't looking for a job when he came in. The train back to Eastern Command from Central was as long as always, the soot of the engine a fine grit that got into everything. He was just making sure everything was in order, and noted they were nearly out of fresh paper... ah well.

Might as well get a drink while here.

Except when he gets to the Bar, he is greeted with a note instead of a drink. He considers the request for a moment, then pats the bartop comfortingly.

"Certainly. Have a good nap, I'll be fine from here."



A few minutes later Mustang has familiarized himself with the layout behind the bar, stashed his jacket away, rolled up his sleeves, and written out the specials (what's the use of bartending if you can't have specials, after all?).

Specials

There's a bottle back here full of a purple alcohol that glows. I don't know what it is, but if you order a shot, it'll be half off.

Mustang then sets to making himself an old fashioned. He doesn't want any part of the glowing purple drink, after all.

Comments

[deadeye_shot]

Hawkeye approaches with a wry twist to her lips, wearing a dark red jacket over a white dress. "It's a good thing you're off-duty. What do you recommend?"

[troublesome_alchemist]

Mustang makes no comment about whether or not he's on duty or not back in Amestris - he isn't here, and never will be if he has anything to say about it.

Except maybe as bartender, evidently.

"Probably not the purple liquor - I'm still not sure why it is glowing." He notes, rinsing off the stir stick.

[deadeye_shot]

"It might not be fit for human consumption," Hawkeye says, with a tone suggesting she miiiight hold him responsible if someone dies. "Have you ever heard of a Long Island iced tea? Apparently it has a lot of alcohol in it."

[troublesome_alchemist]

"I haven't heard of it, but surely there's a bar bible back here somewhere. Do you want one?" Mustang asks, raising an eyebrow. He ignores her implication - if people want to drink purple liquor, this would be the place to do it.

[deadeye_shot]

Hawkeye mulls this over, sliding onto a bar stool with her usual grace. She crosses her legs at the knee and rests her elbows on the counter, placing her chin on her knuckles. "I like iced tea normally, so it would stand to reason that I would like a similarly-named version, despite that drink not having any iced tea in it. If you would, Colonel, I'd be much obliged."

[troublesome_alchemist]

Mustang snorts at this logic, but doesn't argue about it, abandoning his drink to go find the hoped-for guide. It doesn't take him long to find a dog-eared book, and a few more moments of flipping through the pages gives him the recipe.

It doesn't take him long to pull down the required bottles, and start measuring out liquor.

[deadeye_shot]

Hawkeye smiles, slow and brief. "I'm relieved to be off the train. That ride back to East City from Central felt longer than it should have."

[troublesome_alchemist]

"It always does, with those seats." Mustang agrees, dropping the last ingredient into the tumbler and giving it a shake. A quick scoop of ice, and he pours out the drink into a highball glass.

"There you go. Hope it's... drinkable."

[deadeye_shot]

Hawkeye pulls the glass towards herself, and has a sip. "It's... sweet. And a little lemony. Strange, I can barely taste the alcohol at all, though I know there's quite a bit. Clearly a dangerous drink, though probably not as much as the glowing, purple kind."

[troublesome_alchemist]

"You never know, could be good stuff." Mustang points out, wryly, retreating to his own drink.

[deadeye_shot]

"I'm kind of surprised you only give a half-off discount for someone brave enough to try the purple drink," Hawkeye says, with another sip of her Long Island iced tea. "But I guess that makes sense. You can't give drinks away for free."

[troublesome_alchemist]

"If it was free, people might think there was something wrong with it." Mustang points out, reasonably.

Beyond it being purple.

And glowing.

[deadeye_shot]

Hawkeye laughs quietly. "Are you sure that's not the case?" she says, drinking her alcohol. "I wonder if it makes your skin glow."

[troublesome_alchemist]

"Well, there is only one way to find out. The answer's just an order away." Mustang points out, waving a hand at the bottle, still in its place in the ranks of alcohol.

[deadeye_shot]

"I think I'm good with this, thanks," Hawkeye says, raising her glass to him. "Though if you wanted to try it, I wouldn't stop you."

[troublesome_alchemist]

"Ah, no, it's bad form to take advantage of my own specials." Mustang defers, happy to stick with his chosen drink.

[deadeye_shot]

"Is it?" Hawkeye says, cupping her chin in her hand after another sip of her drink. "Is that a rule of Madam Christmas'?"

[troublesome_alchemist]

"Just good business sense." Mustang shrugs, idly.

[deadeye_shot]

Hawkeye samples her beverage again, with a small drink. By this time, halfway down with the glass, her cheeks are growing rosy. She looks like she's wearing blush. "I've never heard of that before. Then again, I don't normally chat up bartenders, or spend much time in bars."

Unless she's doing paperwork.

[troublesome_alchemist]

"Well, if I put up a sale on anything to draw in customers, but then bought it all myself... well. That's not exactly helpful." Mustang explains, still nursing his drink.

[deadeye_shot]

"True enough," Hawkeye says, lacing her fingers together and raising her arms above her head. She arches her back and tips her head back, stretching. Then she rests her elbows on the bar top again. "Did you volunteer to bartend, or did Miss Bar rope you into it?"

[troublesome_alchemist]

"She needed a nap, so I agreed to cover a shift for her. It was not a problem." It isn't as if he's been having to scramble, after all.

[deadeye_shot]

Hawkeye smiles at him. "Good," she says, punctuated with another sip of her alcohol. "Do you think you'll volunteer in the future?"

[troublesome_alchemist]

"If asked. It's not so difficult." Mustang shrugs, sipping his drink. "Better than paperwork."

[deadeye_shot]

Hawkeye wonders if he learned how to bartend from Madame Christmas. She then wonders if he'd tell her if asked. She mulls over whether she should ask him, and decides against it, as even in the bar it's dangerous to link him to the madam.

Hawkeye swirls her drink in its glass. Now that she's halfway through, she's going to nurse it slowly from now on. "I suppose I should probably stop doing paperwork in the bar. We are off-duty, after all. But it's so convenient."