milliways_bar | (no subject)

Zack may notice the blond man he met that one day who knew Max over by the Bar. He seems somewhat innebriated and arguing loudly with the Bar. The man ends up turning angrily, scanning the Bar for some dumb stiff to buy him a drink.

Only the very foolish would consider Zack a dumb stiff.

Well, unless he's working at playing the nice guy, which he is, at the moment. In a distracted sort of way, but still.

He eyes the other man curiously, head cocked to one side in a gesture that might be eerily familiar.

Jason catches sight of Zack and freezes, not knowing whether or not to approach the x5. That's all he needs, more problems with the transgenics.

So he stands there, simply acknowledging Zack's presence. Blearily.

And just think, his sister's the nice one.

If the werewolf-in-headlights look amuses him, it doesn't show. He gives Jason a friendly smile, and nods slightly in way of greeting.

Jason sniffs and walks over, doing his best to look casual.

"Hey, think you can get me some Atlantean from the Bar? She won't serve me."

There's a sucker born every minute. Zack just isn't one of them.

However, he doesn't see any problem with buying Max's friend a drink. Especially if he can pump him for information at the same time. "Yeah, sure thing. Have a seat."

Jason flops into the booth without his usual grace. That was left in the first bottle of Atlantean. By rights he should be passed out by now. We'll chalk this up to rage. Or bitterness. What you will.

"Thanks."

The X5, unfortunately, doesn't notice the difference.

He wanders up to the bar, returning a minute or so later with a bottle of Atlantean for Jason, and a laced coffee for himself. "So, what's the occasion? Christmas blues?"

Jason pulls the cork out and tips the bottle back in a long swallow. It's enough to glaze his eyes over almost instantly, even to someone not as perceptive as Zack.

"Sure, why not."

The slight hesitation, right there? That would be the first stirrings of concern. Nothing should hit that fast.

"You sound very convincing. You should be proud of yourself."

He should see it on a human. They'd be out cold by now with the swallow he just took.

"Damn that sounds familiar. Your sister must be rubbing off on me."

His lip curls slightly as he tries to figure out how to lift the bottle back to his lips.

Ah, that's just muscle memory. Should be the last thing to go. Now, lifting it to his lips without spilling any...that's another story.

"Ah. Girl troubles?" Someone very, very perceptive might pick up a hint of jealousy there.

There may be a faint growl there. Or maybe it's Zack's imagination. People don't growl, right?

"Call it what you will," he slurs, finding his mouth. He pours some more Atlantean down his throat, then slumps slowly to the table somehow keeping the bottle upright.

He blinks in confusion.

Transgenic. Growling? Not so much a shocker.

"...You're out of your league there, man." He takes a sip of his coffee, eyeing Jason a little too intently.

Jason blinks and then frowns at Zack.

"What the hell do you know about anything?"

Blame it on the Atlantean, but he's already forgotten who he's talking to.

Zack smirks slightly. "I know her."

Ignorance = bliss.

Jason stares at him.

"Well...well then what's her deal? She goes back home and suddenly you're a fucking pariah."

"She's smart." He takes another sip of coffee. "You, Logan, that Cindy chick she lives with - you're all liabilities. You don't deserve her."

He says it like he's saying that the sky is blue, and water wet.

The growl grows with intensity to the point where it's encroaching on his speech.

"Don't you fucking lump me in with Logan."

He glares at the table and mutters, "I can handle myself better than a fucking human..."

Zack is, in a rare display of generosity, about to comment that, as normals go, Logan can handle himself relatively well.

And then Jason's words filter through the jealousy and irritation.

"...What?"

Jason's eyes flick up to him in bleary agitation.

"What?"

"You said you can handle yourself better than a human." He gives Jason a hard look. "The fuck does that mean?"

He snorts and reaches for one of the two bottles of Atlantean in front of him.

"What the fuck do you think it means?"

Zack is being helpful. Either that or he doesn't really want the bottle tipped into his lap. Either way, he guides it into Jason's hand.

"That whatever you're drinking causes delusions."

Jason takes another swig. Damn that shit is strong. He half falls over the table, leaning clumsily towards Zack.

He doesn't have to try, he can feel his eyes starting to go. And people wonder why Bar won't serve him.

"Does this look like a delusion to you?"