milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Gil had a 'lie-in' this morning - not something he commonly does and Ratty is now trying to convince him that an extra hour in bed doesn't mean he has to work twice as hard to make up. Gil is sort-of convinced but is feeling so energetic that whizzing round the kitchen is actually fun.

After a bit though he calms down, makes himself coffee and goes out to write up the specials on the blackboard:

Dear Customers of Milliways,

Tonight my pin and I have decided to be Mexican night and we are happy to offer the following specials [in addition to the usual menu]:

Beef Fajitas

Carne Adovada

Spicy Mushroom Tamales

I hope you enjoy them.

Then he takes his tray of baskets and bowls and begins to make his rounds.

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Lestat peers over Gil's shoulder.

"Boo."

Gil, still nervous about the possibility of being caught in the open by Loki the God [really there's nothing one can do to a coward he won't exceed for himself], leaps into the air with a yelp.

Then he looks at Monsieur Lestat and giggles. "Sorry," he says. "You startled me. Lovely to see you again, sir and thank you so much for your hospitality at Mardi Gras."

"Hospitality? Oh, anytime you need a place to stay, Gil. Not that David hesitates to invite people back to the house in any case."

He grins, "Why so jumpy?" then again, Lestat has come to expect this almost prey-like nervousness from Gil. Usually he tries to ignore it, but he wishes the faun could be more relaxed around him.

Gil marks the grin and smiles back. He remembers it's not long since he was telling David that all vampires were charming and he reckoned they'd had a bad press.

"Oh, goodness, sir, I'm not scared of you! Just had a lot on my mind, that's all. And thanks for the offer of hospitality. New Orleans is a wonderful city - such super food shops from what I've heard. Can I - um - get you anything? No substitutes - honest."

"Oui, thank you Gil. It's been a while since I've- yes. Please."

"How have you been?"

"Never been better, sir," Gil straightens up after giving an order to Jeremy. "Did you know we had a party this weekend? The magic users made us two lovely warm nights and I did a venison roast. Then it was Valentine's Day on Monday, which was harder work but still fun. Thanks Jeremy."

He places the usual cut glass decanter on the bar with a matching goblet. Not claret but no need to slum it, eh?

"I hope you'll like that, sir. From the special reserve and it should be.." he tests the glass with the back of his hand, "just the right temperature."

"I thought there might be something of the like at Milliways. Still, I spent some time with Marius, Armand's maker." He smiles, "The both of us have no-one to call our own on this Valentine's Day, nice as it was in Italy."

He watches Gil pour his drink. "Ah... the good service here never ceases to amaze me." In truth, Lestat has always been amazed by the stoicism with which Gil treats his blood-drinking. He was sure the was something against it in the bar's rules, and Gil seems so timid usually.

[ooc: Sorry for ignoring poor Gil! I have three characters in the bar; Greebo is probably about to get eaten by Yrael and Lestat may well eat Loki. I am a mad woman.]

Over the months Gil has served angels, demons, divinities of all sorts and stations, trolls and a small blue steam engine. A vampire's tastes doesn't phase him much - he's just eager to please.

"There you go, Monsieur," he says, setting the glass squarely on a coaster. "Bon appetite."

And if the accent isn't up to much at least the sentiment is sincere.

[ooc: no worries - it's a mad night.]

There's an Echo on the floor in Gil's way as he makes his rounds. She seems to be in shock.

"Echo?" Gil puts his tray down and darts to her side and picks her up. "What on earth's happened to you, dear nymph?"

She stills staring at the now empty booth. She barely notices him.

"Wha?"

""Wha" what?" Gil asks, still supporting her.

She blinks. Then points to the empty booth.

"Two..."

Gil looks but the booth is empty, so he helps Echo to a seat close to the bar and gets her a small - very small - glass of brandy.

"Here, you are," he says kindly. "Drink this - it'll make you feel better."

Echo downs the glass in one gulp, then continues to stare at the booth, blinking a lot.

"What..."

She turns and looks at him, still blinking.

"Who..."

"I have no idea," he says. "But at least you've got some colour in your cheeks, now."

She blinks some more, then turns back to the booth.

"There were... two of him..."

"Who? John Crichton?" Gil smiles reassuringly. "That often happens here - it's Milliways."

Echo shakes her head, looking at Gil.

"No. David. And he, and he..."

She's not sure she can continue. Her head is buzzing.

"Two Davids," Gil grins. "I can imagine. Hey, want some hot chocolate?"

She blinks at Gil. A lot.

"You... you're not shocked?"

She looks back at the booth.

"Um... chocolate shake please. With whatever you just gave me."

Gil shook his head. "Not really. We've had lots of Meg's at various times. We get back to the original eventually. funny, I nearly went to talk to David earlier. Wonder if it would have been the original or the new one."

He shrugs. "Double choc shake with a shot of Remy coming up."

"Oh. Okay..." She can't help but glance over at the booth occationally.

"Remy? Is that what that stuff was? It was good."

"Remy Martin - a rather nice brandy. Very good in small doses." Gil says. "But too much makes your mouth feel like the bottom of a Kangaroo's pouch."

"Kangaroo?"

"It's a sort of mythical animal," Gil explains, "that grows pouches - don't ask me why."

Echo blinks. "Okay." She then goes to drinking her shake, looking occationally at the booth.

Gil looks at the booth too, but can't see anything different about it.

"Feeling better?" he asks.

She just nods, drinking her shake.

Gil smiles and pats her shoulder and gets on with his work, but pauses to make it clear to the rats that, if Yamino or his Dad come into the bar, they should be told IMMEDIATELY that Echo has had a fright.

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