milliways_bar | (no subject)

Faith waves at Alain, from her booth.

She's very drunk.

Alain takes one glance and sees that, yes, she is indeed very drunk.

Of course, the pile of empty bottles on the table in front of her is a small clue.

He approaches, waiting to see if he should be amused or worried. "Goodeven, Faith."

"Hi!" Faith tilts her head back and beams at him. "Long days and pleasant nights!"

She's rather proud to have remembered the greeting despite the alcohol.

Amusement wins out for the moment, although worried could take over at any moment. "And may you have twice the number."

He glances at the bottles, and his eyebrows go up a fraction. "How do you fare?"

"I am drunk off my ass," says Faith, almost proudly.

A beat, while she looks down.

"...except that I'm on it, still."

Solemnly, "Quite a talent."

He eyes the bottles. There are lots of them, and not beer or wine, either. "How many of these have you had?"

"Six," says Faith. "Takes four to do anything. Slayer metabolism." She shrugs faintly. "Don't get hangovers either. It's very obnoxious."

Beat.

"You have pretty eyes."

Amused, "Thank you. I think six is a good time to stop, don't you?"

Six of those. Gods. Drunk off her ass, indeed.

"Sure," Faith agrees, nodding. "Six is good to stop."

Beat.

"Seven would be better."

"No, I don't think it would. Six is a good round number. How about some water?"

"Six isn't a round number."

Beat.

"Except the part where it is. What?"

Blink, blink.

...

"That's right. Very philosophical. You ponder that while I get some water or coffee or something, all right?"

He sets his plate and coffee on a bit of the table that isn't covered by empty bottles.

"OK!"

Faith sits, holding one of her empties, and hums.

He returns shortly, with both a glass of water and a large mug of coffee. It's the way he usually drinks it, which is to say black and strong.

When Faith sees him, she perks up, beaming. "Alain! Long days and pleasant nights!"

Beat.

"Are you hungry? Somebody left food and I couldn't eat a bite."

"That's all right. I'll take it." It's his dinner, after all. "Here, how about some coffee?"

Sober you up a touch, he does not say. Instead, he deposits both the coffee and the water in front of her, and perches on the edge of the other bench to sip his own.

Faith takes the coffee, wide-eyed. "Aww...and I didn't get you anything..."

He snorts. "Just coffee. Don't worry about it."

Faith takes a sip, then tosses the coffee back.

This is a bad night for her intestines.

"You're very sweet, you know. And pretty. In a manly way. But pretty."

Alain does not facepalm. Quite. Drily, "Thank you. And you're very drunk, Faith."

Faith pouts.

"...you don't think I'm pretty too?"

Soothingly, "'Course I do. Pretty and drunk both."

"Aw. Thanks."

Faith beams at him.

"Cuthbert whistled at me once, on account I was wearing a dress. I don't think he realized I was a girl, before that."

"Cuthbert has a girl," he points out. "And you've a man."

"Didn't say I was gonna do anything," Faith says, looking offended. "I like him, but not like that, and I wouldn't hurt Susan anyway."

Beat.

"Besides, of the two of 'em, I'd be more likely to go for her."

"Didn't say you were."

...And is anyone really surprised that it's at this point that Cuthbert wanders by?

"Long days and pleasant nights," he begins, then pauses as he takes in the empty bottles, the coffee, and Faith's general demeanor.

And Faith brightens again, beaming at him.

"Hi, Kooshbert!"

"Hile," says Alain, with the general facepalming amusement of a sober person around very drunk people.

Then he eyes Faith. "Been talking to Lilly, I see."

"Looks to me as if that's not all you've been doing, either."

He slides into the booth, eyeing both Faith and the empty bottles. "Tell me Al helped with at least some of those?"

"Nope. Those're all mine," Faith says, cheerful. "I'm celebrating!"

"Slayer thing," Alain says in an undertone, in a passing on what I'm told voice. "I only just came by. She's not passed out yet, anyway."

Then, to Faith, "What are you celebrating, that calls for six of these?"

Cuthbert nods in response to Alain's aside, then continues eyeing the drunken Slayer with a mixture of amusement and concern. "Yes, I wouldn't mind knowing that myself."

"I'm not going to pass out!" Faith says, indignant. Freaky Slayer healing. "It takes four to do anything. Slayer metabolism and all. And I'm celebrating because Charlie's home safe."

Beat.

"OK, I started out drinking because he wasn't and I was worried, but now it's celebrating."

And she nods, loftily, with a 'so there' look on her face.

"Mayhap no," he says drily, "but if you were anyone else you'd be under the table long ago. Where did Charlie go?"

Cuthbert glances back at the bottles, as if hoping there are somehow going to be less of them there this time.

"Alright, note to self: never, ever challenge a Slayer to a drinking contest. And yar, what's that about Charlie?"

"Charlie's a friend of mine and Susan's," Faith informs them. "He went back to his world, and Claire and Sawyer came back without him, and I was scared and so was Susan, but then he came back tonight. And I have never been under a table in my life! I'm perfectly fine!"

A quick glance exchanged with Cuthbert, at the mention of Susan being scared, but he doesn't say anything.

Cuthbert nods. "I've met Charlie." For Alain's benefit, he adds, "Liam Pace's brother. Does Susan know he's back alright yet?"

"Probably not," Faith says. "He just came back tonight, and I made him go upstairs 'cause he was soaked. Y'should tell her. Sh'was pretty upset."

Cuthbert nods again. "Alright. I'll tell her."