milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Faith's not certain what Kitty's plans for Edmund entail, but the phrase Won't be back for a while probably means it's gonna be good fun for both of them.

Never one to stand in the way of romance or intercourse, she has agreed to take Ed's bartending shift for the night.

Which is why she's behind the bar, clad in a very short red leather miniskirt and matching (backless) halter top, nervous and trying to hide it.

The specials board reads as follows:

Pyro

Nitro

Mad Bomber

Absent Friend

Non-alcoholic Special: Hot chocolate

What'll it be?

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THUMP.

Faith hits the floor, laughing hysterically.

"You might want to be less noisy, too. Might put some customers off." He clucked his tongue reproachfully, like his mother often did. "And there are children here, Faith. You're not even thinking of their sweet, virgin ears."

Faith climbs to her feet, grabs Ron by the shoulders, and plants a loud kiss on his cheeks.

"I love you," she says, and gets his drink. "Sip it, it's strong."

And then somewhere around the area of the bar there are three women somehow related to a fellow named Arthur Dent, whose first experience with That Drink was not so good.

His fiancee, Fenchurch, grabs the hand of his best friend, Trillian, and Trillian and Arthur's daughter, Random Dent, follows them all over.

Ron Weasley, you are being watched by the Hitchhiker Girls.

May you serve the PGGB well.

Ron blushed to the tips of his ears, but was still grinning as he picked up the glass.

Then he noticed the women watching him, and turned to look at them in confusion.

"It's five galleons to watch. A piece," he informed them jokingly.

Faith winks at the girls over Ron's shoulder.

"They're friends, honey. Try the drink."

"No worries," says Trillian, laughing.

"We're familliar with it, for certain," Fenchurch agrees.

"Not that I've tried it yet," adds Random, muttering.

Ron sipped it, and his face contorted in a horrible grimace, he put the glass down, put his hands to his throat, and fell off of his stool, going, "Gah!" as his eyes teared up.

Faith vaults the bar and helps him up, patting his back.

"Sorry. Should have started you off slower, I think."

"Argh. Feels like my head got hit by the bloody Knight Bus," Ron groaned, pressing his fingers to his temples.

"You are an evil, evil woman," he informed Faith.

"Sorry."

Faith gives him water.

"Drink slowly."

He sipped. "Merlin knows, if things like this keep up when I drink, I'm going to wind up going sober for the rest of my life," he joked with a grin in between sips.

"That might not be the worst thing in the world," Faith says, petting his shoulder apologetically. "I really am sorry, Ron."

"No, it's okay," he said. "It really is. There is no one else I'd rather get drunk off my arse--or one my arse--" He said, looking down. "--with. Other than Harry. But he isn't here. He'll probably come traipsing in any day now. Then I can get drunk with him even though he isn't old enough yet, because I can sneak him drinks now."

The little alcohol he hadn't snorted out his nose was hitting him hard and fast now.

"But you didn't hear that," he rambled on. "'Cause you're security. Hey, can I have something else?"

Faith shakes her head, trying not to laugh, and orders him a rum and coke.

Very little Rum.

Ron got comfortable again with his drink and waved as the Hitchhiker ladies walked off.

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