Wes makes it all the way to the Bar before he realises this is not, in fact, the tapcaf frequented by his fellow Rogues.
It's been a while since he was in Milliways, but he's thrilled. He beams up at the rafters, then sideways at the Observation Window, and finally down at Bar.
"Whiskey. All of-- okay, no, 'Nyri would kill me if I died of liver
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"Want a mixer? Cola's a good one, I think, but bonus points if you can drink it straight."
(Wait, is she old enough? Eh, too late now, and who cares anyway.)
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"Would you recommend it?"
...yeah, he'll drink on-duty, tonight. It's a celebration, after all.
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She smiles and grins. "Would you like to try it?"
She doesn't care if he drinks on duty. It's not like a little impaired means he'll hurt himself.
"You're a new papa?"
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"Why not?" he says with a grin, and pours himself a shot from the bottle he hasn't yet put away. He holds it up for a cheers! gesture.
Then answers, "Yeah. Yeah ... I guess I am."
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She then takes the shot and then shakes off the burn a bit.
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Wes manages not to cough, though he does wipe his mouth before setting down his shot glass.
"--thanks." A grin. And it's a bit dorky. "His name's Cal."
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"That is great. Do you have pictures?"
She finds this is something all parents have.
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"No, I--" He shrugs, helplessly. "'s only been a day. 'Nyri won't let go of him, and she won't let me take a holo of her 'til they let her shower."
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...now Wes is recalling the sheer horror of the birthing process. Oh ... oh gods ... so much grosser than the high school holovids promised. He takes a second to shake his head and get over it.
"Well, I'll be around for a long time-- so yeah. Maybe he'll even have hair soon."
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