A bottle of wine begs to be shared. [ OTA ]

[hell_ofa_thing]

It was, perhaps, not the most likely of sights: a seasoned FBI profiler, serving wine to various patrons. This wasn't just any wine bar, though; he was particular about wine (fussy, Emily would say), but this place mostly met his standards, and the people who tended to frequent Veritas had good taste, too, otherwise he would have left a while ago.

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[ruggdlyhndsome]

Honestly, Castle needed a glass of wine.

Having Beckett back in town was a double-edged sword. He loved her for sure, but they were still in a place where little arguments and bickering caused them to not wish to speak to each other for a few hours. Everything was so tentative and it was stressful. Having his mother and daughter here was equally comforting and stressful.

He sat down at one of the tables in the wine bar and perused the menu. This was nice. So many different choices.

[hell_ofa_thing]

Being a profiler meant he was attuned to the nuances and subtleties of human behavior, and he could read people pretty well when they came into the bar. Sometimes people wore their emotions very plainly on their face, and just about anyone could guess what was going on in their mind. But Rossi liked to believe he was far, far better at gauging the feelings of those with more of a poker face.

The man who came in and took a seat had a neutral expression, but there was a little stiffness in his shoulders that spoke of tension. It could go different ways in a wine bar: people came in just to have fun and enjoy, to relax after a long day, or to dull the pain and stress.

"I prefer reds, but I'm Italian," he offered, as he approached. He could help narrow it down, though, even though he had his obvious biases.

[ruggdlyhndsome]

Castle smiled and looked up at the man who had spoken.

"I like chianti when I eat Italian food, though if I'm just drinking wine alone, I usually prefer white..."

He glanced down the list of chardonnays.

[hell_ofa_thing]

He wasn't opposed to white wines, though he tended to utilize them more when he cooked, rather than actually drinking any.

This man liked chianti and Italian food, though, so he obviously had good taste.

With complete confidence, Rossi pointed to a chardonnay. "You'll like this one."

[annatar_s]

Annatar had a date on Saturday, though 'date' was a modern term. He was simply going to dinner with a friend and they would quite likely return to his rooms afterward for conversation, bathing, and physical gratification. Thus he wished for wine. Sometimes this was purchased at the grocery market, but not always.

The Man in the wine bar had a certain wariness about him, though he was a perfectly normal specimen of the race--no magic.

"Good evening," Annatar greeted with a slight smile as he came in. He wasn't sure what the response would be--the velvet tunics often got stares and so did the nearly knee-length hair. And the ears.

[hell_ofa_thing]

Rossi didn't stare in the way some people might; he studied and observed, and his eyes lingered for a moment as he took in the new person who'd just walked in. He had no trouble staring down criminals in the interrogation room, or even local cops who would piss him off on occasion. But the average person didn't warrant a stare unless they said or did something particularly...odd.

This man was dressed strangely, but Rossi was finally used to that by now. The ears were something different, certainly.

But he regarded the man with a slight smile of his own. This was a customer, after all.

"Nice night," he offered, conversationally.

[annatar_s]

"It is indeed," Annatar agreed. "I've not seen you here before. Are you new to the village or just this shop? I buy wine fairly regularly."

He smiled.

"I'm still not terribly accustomed to wine from Earth, but the market does not always have things from home." And oftentimes those were simply Elvish, but from places he did not know.

[hell_ofa_thing]

"I've been here a few months," he shrugged. "Just haven't crossed paths."

If this man bought wine fairly regularly, Rossi had hopes that meant he had good taste as well.

It was an easy transition, at that point, to ask the question that had him curious. "So where are you from?"

[everybodylives]

She liked a change of pace, and she'd know earlier owners of the wine bar and had avoided it after they'd left. And while they'd been here - honestly Livia had loathed her.

But after her conversation with Jack, she was looking for a change of pace. He'd made her think about things she preferred not to think about so she'd gone to one of the places that reminded her of loves lost.

Smiling at the man behind the bar she settled onto a stool and considered the array of choices.

"If I were to give you a vague description of what I want could you pick me a wine?"

[hell_ofa_thing]

Could he help pick a wine? Internally, he was saying to himself, No one could pick a better wine because he was just that cocky. But there was a measured smile on his face as he looked at her.

"That's what I do," he assured her, confidently. "What are you in the mood for?"

[everybodylives]

"Is that all you do?" He seemed like the type who might need more to be content. "And I'd like... something white, crisp... like biting into an apple."

[hell_ofa_thing]

He raised a brow slightly. He wasn't the type to be content only doing one thing, that much was true.

"This is just a hobby, and a talent," he said. Meaning, of course, that no, it was far from the only thing he did, though he was quite good at it.

"How sweet do you like your wine?"

[5thcolumnfed]

Erica is one of the patrons who comes in a bit later. Something about her blowup with John has made her re-evaluate a lot of things, and making sure they spend plenty of time together, not focused on work or the baby is one of them. So, she's looking for a nice bottle, though neither one of them drink a large amount. A good bottle of wine with a good dinner on the boat will be good for them.

Walking inside, she pushes her sunglasses up on top of her head and looks around, not completely sure of where to start. Just knowing that she needs a happy medium between dry and sweet.

[hell_ofa_thing]

Rossi, of course, thinks Juliet has just walked in. They look exactly alike, so it's natural that he would think that, upon first glance. When she pushes her sunglasses up to the top of her head, though, and doesn't really seem to recognize him at all, he figures out pretty quickly that something is amiss.

For the moment, though, he just smiles, inviting her to approach.

[5thcolumnfed]

There's a badge on her hip, and it's clear she's packing heat though it's not visible. She walks forward and smiles.

"I really don't know anything about wine," she warns him. "But my husband likes a dry wine, and I like more of a sweet wine."

[hell_ofa_thing]

Definitely not Juliet. It's that whole strange thing with alternate universes in the village, he decides. Another person from another world entirely, who just happens to look exactly like Juliet.

It's very odd. But she's clearly been in this village for some time, so she's most likely used to that by now. He'll take care of her need for a bottle of wine first.

"You don't have to know anything," he says, reassuringly, "just tell me what you like and I'll pick something. Do you have a few favorite flavors or scents?"

[noheatnikki]

Kate had taken to wandering around the village, trying to familiarize herself with places and people. When she noticed the wine bar, she smiled to herself. She liked the feel of the place before she even walked in. A glass of wine would be a nice end to a somewhat stressful day. Stressful week, really. Yes, wine was a good idea.

She took a seat at the end of the bar furthest from the bar and with her back to as few people as possible. Old habits were hard to break. She picked up the menu and looked it over, trying to decide.

[hell_ofa_thing]

The position she'd taken at the bar, and the way she held herself, was all intriguing purely from the perspective of analyzing human behavior. Long day, long week, and she'd found herself here, like so many others before her.

He certainly understood how pleasant a nice glass of wine could be after an arduous week. He set down a few glasses he'd just dried, waiting to approach until she'd had a few minutes to look at the menu.

"Still looking, or can I get you something?"

[noheatnikki]

She looked up from the menu. The man in front of her seemed both very suited and very out of place in the establishment, somehow simultaneously.

He was a handsome, distinguished older man, the kind of man Kate had always appreciated. She smiled a bit.

"A glass of Pinot Noir, American preferably."

[hell_ofa_thing]

He preferred red wines, but as white wines went, that was a good choice. There was a look of approval in the smile he returned to her.

While he poured her a glass, he said, "You haven't been in the village long, have you?" There was nothing too obvious in her demeanor to suggest that, it was just a look he'd gotten used to seeing in people who had only recently arrived in the village.