Happy Hour

[henry_jones_jr]

Another week has passed without Mike at the helm, and bar operations still haven't ground to a halt. Indy is somewhat proud of this fact, and was going to take a day off to reward his efforts. Unfortunately, his plans were thwarted when he realized it was his rostered day for bartending. So, maybe tomorrow

Comments

[try_corsets]

"Rum," answers the young woman at the end of the bar, dressed in her old pirate garb and carrying a sword as if she has the knowledge and nerve to to use it. "I'll take four bottles for my crew."

Elizabeth barely registers the identity of the man behind bar. A half smile and a nod serve as sufficient acknowledgment, she feels.

[henry_jones_jr]

"Coming right up," is the prompt reply from the bartender.

"Have you got a brand preference?"

It's only then that he focuses in on the customer, and recognizes her as the snotty lady pirate he'd run into a while back... almost literally. His expression flattens somewhat.

"Oh, hullo. Elizabeth, wasn't it?"

[try_corsets]

"And still is. Captain Elizabeth Turner."

Throwing the title around is not likely to get old anytime soon.

"Dr. Jones." She allows him a faint smile. "I've met an acquaintance of yours. And any type of rum will do, provided the bottles look sufficiently aged and... grimy. I'll have tea."

[henry_jones_jr]

Indy chuckles at the qualifications.

"Okay. Shouldn't be a problem. There're plenty of musty corners in the stock room where even the Loompas don't clean."

"I'll be right back."

She seems different. Less... pompous. More relaxed. Maybe she was just under a lot of stress last time, what with Jack recently having been killed and all. Indy is all about second chances, so he flashes her a smile as he wanders off into the kitchen and storage area.

"Will these work?" he asks on his return.

He's bearing a crate with the requisite number of bottles within. Each is strewn with cobwebs and dust, and so ancient that the labels can't even be deciphered anymore. The only real clue as to their contents lays in the stenciled words GROG (Pirates Only) on the crate's side.

[docscurlock]

"What's in the third one?"

Doc drops himself onto a stool, with a pad of paper and pen set on the bartop as well. He's been taking notes about nightmares all morning.

[henry_jones_jr]

"It's hot chocolate with Bailey's Irish Cream and Amaretto," Indy reveals, after a quick glance at the board to equate the reference.

[docscurlock]

"Sounds perfect, one of those if you wouldn't mind, sir."

Thankfully the bruises from his nightmare have faded from around his neck and his wrists, and the drugs from his second have left his system. He actually feels normal today.

[henry_jones_jr]

"Not a problem at all," Indy replies, quite cheerfully.

He pops back into the kitchen to retrieve some hot chocolate, then sets about adding the liquor components when he returns. After a stir, he slides the finished product across the bar.

"There ya go."

[prob_japanese]

There's a faint whoosh sound from above, and then a yellow-and-chrome robot waves gleefully from where he's hanging from the rafters by his feet. "Hi there!" chirps Bumblebee.

[henry_jones_jr]

Since their numbers have started growing around Milliways, Indy has become fairly accustomed to the presence of robots about the place. Thus, when he glances up, there's no real shock or surprise.

"Hi. What can I get you?"

[prob_japanese]

"Unless you keep liquid energon back there, beer will be just fine," says Bumblebee. "My comrade Ironhide tells me you have a good selection here, but I wouldn't know good from bad."

[henry_jones_jr]

"Well, y'know... we don't like to brag. But when you have to supply booze to the Multiverse, you gotta keep a sufficiently diverse selection on hand."

"How about a Theakston's?" he goes on with a smile. "It's a decent best bitter from North Yorkshire, England. I just tapped a new barrel."

[works_in_space]

Jim looks over the specials and thinks that the irony might be lost on some, though a sense of humor is sometimes the best way to cope.

"Can I get a Romulan ale?"

[henry_jones_jr]

"Sure thing."

It's been a while... again, but Indy remembers this guy. He adds a greeting while he pours the beer from one of the many draft taps.

"Hi, Jim."

[works_in_space]

"Jones, right?" It has been a while, and Jim isn't quite as good with names as he ought to be. "We talked...maybe a year ago or so, my time?"

[henry_jones_jr]

"Indy. And, yeah. Over a year by my time as well, I reckon."

The pouring process now completed, Indy slides over the drink.

"How's life been treating you since then?"

[lovesoldthings]

Sally isn't in the mood for a hot toddy this time, but she recognizes the man behind the counter. When he's busy with another patron, she wanders over and settled onto a stool as quietly as she can.

Then,

"Iced tea, please, with just a dollop of brandy."

[henry_jones_jr]

Indy recognizes the voice (and the accent) almost immediately, and turns his attentions to Sally just as soon as he's finished with his current customer. Said current customer is actually cut off mid-sentence, quite rudely. But since it's an anonymous customer, we won't worry about the repercussions or the potential for an official complaint.

"Only if I can get a no dumping guarantee," he replies.

There's a distinctly edge of happiness to his smile now, that wasn't really apparent before.

[lovesoldthings]

An answering smile, and a blush, bloom across her expression and rather lights it up nicely. "I think that can be arranged, Doctor Jones."

Sally pauses, tilting her head to one side, "Provided one party asks the other on another date."

:D!

[henry_jones_jr]

That gets a laugh—not really embarrassed, just amused.

"So subtle, Sal."