Draft Log #4: After

[lucetimods]

Who: Whoever wants in!
What: The return of the draftees
When: The night of the 29th until morning; timing is ambiguous for more freedom D|
Where: See below.
Summary: The battle is, for the moment, over; time to pick up the pieces and go home again.
Rating: IDEK

Comments

[originaljackass]

[Jack wasn't lucky enough to be deposited in his own bed. Instead he ended up at Good Spirits, feeling no worse for wear. Five days of ship rations, fighting and constant healing seemed to have been good for him. He was feeling as fit as ever and given he had booze conveniently at hand, he decides to gather up an armload of booze and make his way home with it in tow. He'll be making his way home in the middle of the night in this state and probably get himself nice and wasted back at his apartment.

Pity he doesn't have anyone to share a bed with.]

[slaying]

[ so before her hospital-gown clad boyfriend shows up, buffy is casually tending the bar. y'know, right about the same time when this jack starts piling up his arms with her booze.

at least, that's how she sees it. the lady of the pub gets a little huffy. ]

H-hey! You can't just...

[originaljackass]

[Oh, Buffy is actually here? Yeesh, go figure.]

Hell, Buffy, didn't you just get back from fighting? Take a break, woman.

[slaying]

[ more frowning. ]

This is taking a break, Horner.

[originaljackass]

If you say so. Either way? I killed about two hundred of those bastards this past week. I'm entitled to free booze.

[So if she thinks he's going to sit and drink it in the bar, she's got another thing coming.]

[slaying]

You can't just clean me out, though. These magically replenishing supplies? They don't replenish on a whim.

[originaljackass]

Seven bottles. I think you're going to manage, Buffy. I've been behind that counter more than you know.

[slaying]

[ so now she vaults OVER that counter. ]

Seven bottles of what, huh? At least let me take inventory.

[ ...she reaches out. ]

[originaljackass]

[He rolls his eyes, but then starts handing them over one by one, with the intention of overloading her by her comparatively smaller arms.]

Two bottles of wine, for emergency dating purposes, a bottle of scotch, two bottles of whiskey, one of straight up booze, and this weird blue stuff that's missing the label.

[slaying]

[ she does just fine until the second bottle of whiskey. and then her frown gets all twisted up into a perfect little concentration face. any more perplexed and she might just stick the tip of her tongue out. ]

Who dates in an emergency, anyway? [ she counters; purposefully obtuse. ]

[originaljackass]

[Jack just places his hands on his hips, amused at her being forced to balance them all.]

A smart man always has a rubber in his wallet and a bottle of wine in his cupboard. That's just being practical.

[slaying]

Except for all the girls who don't go in for that sort of thing. [ AN UNCOMFORTABLE PAUSE. ] The wine, I mean. Not the...look, wine's pretty gross.

[originaljackass]

Good point. Is there any champagne back there? [Since she's got her hands full, he'll lean over the counter and start perusing the selection.]

[slaying]

Hey -- that's not what I...H-hey!

[ cue indignation in three, two... ]

[originaljackass]

[Once he finds what he's looking for, he twists around so he's sitting on the bar. He pulls out one bottle and admires it in the light. Then brings out a second one.]

I'm going to need a sack or something now.

[slaying]

If you put them in a sack, they'll all knock together and break and then you'll have booze gumbo. What you really want is a crate o-or a...[ wait? why is she helping him? ]

Right. Shutting up, now.