It had been a while since Jack worked a full shift at the bar. He always meant to, and then there'd be a class assignment or a shift in the law clinic or a chance to see Emma and -- well. Some things took priority ( Read more... )

Jack had stolen away over homecoming to visit his fiancee instead, and he was rightly glad he had. All the graduates younger than him were starting to make him feel old.

But he was back at work today, listening as Tiny told him all about his adventures over the weekend. Apparently there'd been a party of drunk gremlins on the dance floor.

[OOC: ( Read more... )

Jack was in his last year of law school now -- and between class, interning in a legal aide clinic for immigrants, and visiting Emma whenever he could, he was a bit short on time to spend on the island. He'd left the club in Tiny and the DJ's hands more often lately than he wanted to admit ( Read more... )

Jack had to spend most of his shift on the phone with the bar's suppliers. Somehow, it was harder to get things delivered when your bar kept changing its location in the multiverse every week ( Read more... )

Jack had been on the island more than long enough to know when it was one of those weeks. Which meant he was going to spend most of his workday in the club's office, where he could focus on paperwork and dirty texts to Emma and completely ignore the disturbing sight that was the DJ and Tino flirting. Jack might be all in favor of love in all of its ( Read more... )

Jack had the club to himself today. The DJ and Tiny had both called in due to the snow, and pointing out they lived on a tiny island that had escaped the worst of the storm hadn't convinced either of them to brave the sidewalks ( Read more... )

Jack was back behind the bar, skin golden from a winter break spent on the beach with Emma. The cold air on the island felt like a reprimand for having been dumb enough to come back.

The sign outside the club read:

Special today: 2-for-1 on candy cane, Christmas cookie, and hot chocolate vodka.He had to get rid of the last of the Christmas stocks ( Read more... )

Jack came to work a little late and thoroughly bedecked in tinsel.

He didn't want to talk about it.

Anything even vaguely holiday-related at the bar, from the peppermint schnapps to the gingerbread vodka, was getting an extra-hard glare today. He'd be glad when advent was over.

[OOC: Open bar/post.]

Jack had spent his entire weetiny weekend gorging on sugared cereal and watching the kind of cartoons that were easy to understand even with a fairly severe language barrier in place. It had been far more relaxing than the last several times he was five years old, he could give it that much ( Read more... )

Jack was gravely concerned ( Read more... )