(Untitled)

[implausibility]

Who: Triela (snuffdoll), Adachi (implausibility)
When: Evening, August 27
Where: One of the local bars.
Summary: Apple juice - on the rocks. Oh yeah.
Warnings: None.

Comments

[snuffdoll]

Triela had come here before, and she would probably come here again. The first two times had been tense, with bartenders trying to dismiss her right off the bat - for good reason, sure, since she couldn't pass herself as a nineteen-year-old without some help. "I'm not here to drink," she'd insisted, "I'm not here to meet anyone. Geeze, just answer my questions, all right?"

She was a little charmer and had ended up coming here a good few times in order to get information on whichever job she was taking. Some of the adults had been properly impressed. They'd give her dishes of peanuts and chocolate mints and she's tease them about their lack of teas. Regardless, there was always--

"You really shouldn't hang around a place like this so much, little missy." The other bartender was saying as much right at that time. "I know you think you're the type for trouble, but a little thing like you can't handle everything." He was fetching a dish of cherries.

Triela's back was to Adachi and she'd shed her coat, for the time being. Even the usual dress shirt had been swapped out for a short-sleeved button down blouse, and she had one hand on a - perhaps surprisingly - skirted hip. Her foot was tapping, there was gauze over her forearms, and when she spoke, she was no-nonsense even with her young voice.

"If you really wanted me to stop coming around, you'd quit assisting me, wouldn't you? Come on, mister, you know I'm not asking for that much this time, and I'd really appreciate it."

[implausibility]

What caught his attention wasn't her size, or even the strangely young pitch of her voice (it was easy to drown things out when you were fed up enough with your surroundings), it was the 'Mister.' That was unmistakably out-of-place in a bar like this, on a street like this, at an hour like this, and Adachi looked up, just as he caught the beer from sliding off the counter with one hand, a little bit of the froth spilling onto his fingers.

He canted his head, leaning around the rather large patron sitting beside him, until he could see the stranger's form a few seats away. "Did you get lost, kid?" Adachi asked, flicking the white bubbles off his fingers. The bartender looked up at him, gaze lingering as if really seeing him for once, and just as he opened his mouth, probably to ask him to mind his own business or to give that clipped, subtle warning of, 'Can I help you sir,' Adachi pulled out his wallet to pay him, badge and all.

He didn't say a thing.

[snuffdoll]

It wasn't an uncommon question to hear. It hadn't been even before this place, when she'd been out and about in Rome or Florence or wherever else during school hours. That didn't mean it wasn't a little irritating, though, and more exasperating than anything else. "No, sir," came her dry tone, and she turned to face the speaker.

What an impossibly straight necktie she wore.

"I'm not lost," she said, a little steely in contrast to the tenseness of the bartender, now that the badge was out; the few people who were in immediate range of this were growing uncomfortable, too. Triela was perhaps a little too collected for the situation at hand.

She eyed Adachi, raised her eyebrows, and then simply lifted a hand. "Hey."

WH-WHY THE WEAKPOINT WITH THE TIES, TRIELA

[implausibility]

Of course - just another poor bloke at the bar without a badge. Adachi would be lying if he said this was the first time this happened, and he'd be lying if he said this wasn't a definite perk of the job, but he was good at lying anyway, so why not?

Whatever smile was creeping up his face slid off as soon as he saw her face though. Wait a second, he knew that- "...You-" he said, epitome of eloquence and paragon of conversational excellence, eyes widening with surprise. Though Adachi was aware that anyone on the network lived somewhere in the city, and that even cities were only so big, he hadn't expected to bump into her here of all places.

He snapped his wallet shut, still looking mildly bewildered. "...Oh. Triela."

"I like the feeling I get when I tie my necktie... and the click clack noise my leather shoes make."

[snuffdoll]

Relief, for the bartender, was nearly tangible, even if it crept in rather than washed over the atmosphere. He leaned in toward the girl- "Missy, you're gonna give me a heart attack one of these days."

To contrast Adachi's expression was a mellow look of longsuffering, from Triela. "Out for the evening, huh, Detective Adachi? I didn't expect to run into you."

Look who's talking.

"Sorry, mister," she said to the bartender, "Can you give me a few minutes? Think on answering me, okay? You'd be a great help." She didn't even have to be sweet-voiced or smile a little girl smile. Ask up front: that was the best way to do things.

She rounded the patron in between them until she was closer to Adachi. "Do I really look all that lost?"

[implausibility]

She was much like she looked over the network. Adachi found the corner of his mouth quirking in more of a smirk than it was a smile, and turned his mug of chilly bear around in his hands. He could feel the warmth from his hands seeping into it.

"Unless the guys 'round here make it a habit of bringing their girls in for some good ol' father-daughter alcoholic bonding time, then I'm gonna have to say yes," he responded, leaning his chin on one hand. He drew back almost instantly from the cold skin, before settling it gingerly back down (what a kid). Adachi looked down at her, tugging the other half of his mouth up to match the other end in a friendly smile. "You thirsty? Maybe I can get you an apple juice or something."

He stopped, looking suddenly contemplative. "Dunno if I'd trust the juice 'round here. Probably gets mixed up with all the stuff they mix around in those canisters. Think they would listen to me if I asked them to buy one of those juice boxes? Ooooh, I haven't had one of those since grade school! They make grape juice in those things too now, did you know? I bet that tastes even better-"

[snuffdoll]

"Hmm," she said shortly, and had enough rebelliousness in her to lean against the counter, setting her elbow atop it to prop herself up.

There was always- something about being made to feel small. It wasn't because she could easily lay waste to pretty much this entire bar - and, thinking that, she set her other hand against the strap of the instrument case that was slung over her shoulder. Amati. High grade stuff. --Being overly capable wasn't the reason she hated being treated like a child.

She hated it because she was a child, and what teenage girl likes to be reminded of the fact that she's a teenage girl?

All right, no, it was about time to cut him off. "Yeah, I know about grape flavor." Her eyebrows furrowed and she looked like she was holding in a sigh. "I'm not five, you know, Detective Adachi. I came here because I was working."

AUGH Enter key I did not mean to press you.

[implausibility]

Adachi tilted his head the other way, infuriatingly oblivious. "Girl scout cookies?"

When that split second had passed, long enough to make it seem like he was serious about the question, he righted his head, a much more easy-going smile on his face. He took a gulp of his beer, leaving a small frothy mustache on his upper lip before that, too, he licked up with the tip of his tongue. Of the two, Adachi might have seemed the one more child-like. A few of the other bar-goers were already giving the pair the cold, nonchalant shoulder again, passing the temporary 'police' scare off as harmless.

What was a man like him capable of, anyway?

"Working on what?" he asked, spinning around in his stool. He had probably meant to face her, but had clearly misjudged the force necessary, and had wound up facing the back of the bar instead. He pulled himself back with a little huff before settling more comfortably in the regardlessly uncomfortable seat. "Something for that boss of yours?"

[snuffdoll]

She would have snapped at him, if he'd waited even a moment longer to discard the cookie comment. Not that she knew the full detailing of Girls Scouts and things -- just. Patronizing.

Instead she just gave a dry stare.

"Yeah, something for my boss." In contrast to him, she faced the bar fully now, resting with both elbows and setting her chin in her hands. Out of the corner of her eye, when she tilted her head right, she could still see him. "Putting food on the table, all that. Or, uh... saving up for classy cameras." By then she was grinning halfway, and she splayed her fingers out across the counter and looked down at them. "Anything to keep me busy."

Back to him, much cheekier this time-- "Not like you, right? Having a relaxing evening, Detective?"

[implausibility]

He put on a hurt expression, a hand slapping onto the left side of his chest. "Wh-what is that? A jab? From you? Et tu, Brutus?" Adachi seemed to slump in his seat, shoulders downcast and resting his weight on his elbows, nursing that heavy mug between his arms like lonely solace. He had learned this stance from his partner, held hung low from the weight of the world, had seen it enough times to imitate it with perfect precision. With a wince, he turned back to Triela. "I'm off duty, you know. 'Bout time too - I was supposed to get off at least a couple of hours ago, but precinct suggested hours are about as trustworthy as your everyday druggie on the street."

He passed off the comment without even a shrug, even if it attracted a few wayward glances, but enough about him. "So you're the breadwinner of the family, huh?" The thought seemed to amuse him. "What's the big guy doing in the meantime? Keeping dinner on the stove?"

[snuffdoll]

It made her laugh, and the shaking of shoulders caused her to adjust her instrument case. "Just take your hours as they come. You'll always get time off, in the end." She'd seen that stance a lot, but all she could really do was set her chin in her and and smile faintly at him. "It only takes five minutes to really unwind if you know all the right tricks. Makes the aftereffects of an especially long assignment melt away just like that. The hours don't have to be trustworthy, they just have to get done."

She might as well have been describing an extracurricular activity to him.

The smile waned, at that, but in more a thoughtful way than anything else. She looked down the bridge of her nose and hummed shortly at him. "Not really. I'm just pitching in and doing my part. That's what we all do. Big Boss does plenty-- I just like doing it for him when I can."

[implausibility]

"Just felt like doing it for him when I can," he repeated slowly, enunciating every syllable, like the words, or perhaps, just that particular combination of words, were a foreign concept to him. If he didn't understand something, he didn't spare much thought to it. "Talk about an upstanding citizen, huh? Sure you don't want anything to drink? That bartender's been giving us suspicious glances since you came in here - probably thinks you're gonna snitch. Order something to calm the poor guy down, huh? Oh! But, uh, no alcohol. I can't condone that, even off duty."

/punches self back into these tags!! ;A;

[snuffdoll]

A dry glance, and then lowered her eyes to her hands and chose her words carefully. "It doesn't have to do anything with citizenship. It's just... what I do."

--Choosing words carefully didn't really mean they conveyed what she wanted to say.

She sighed, both at herself and at Adachi, and then she tilted her head up to him again. "It's your fault for whipping out your badge like that," she said, growing cheeky again, a half-smile inching up. "Isn't that how the bad guys run away? You pull it out before you're all that close to them, and then they see it and freak. And they take off. Aren't you glad I'm not a runner?" The teasing was prominent in her tone, but she held up her hand for the bartender (like a kid in class, geeze), and said, "Mister, mind if I get a class of cranberry juice?"

OH BOY

[implausibility]

He ran his finger around the rim of the cup, around and around with almost single-minded determination, to the point where even his tongue stuck out from the corner of his mouth, brow furrowing over eyes focused entirely on the glass...until very faintly, the resonance of the friction made a soft, flowing sound that grew increasingly in pitch (and annoyance). Just when it looked like the man in the next seat was about to quit throwing pointed glances and go for the more direct route, Adachi stopped, looking up with something akin to pride.

"Oh, I'm not on duty," he dismissed, flicking his finger dry. "I'd just have to report it to the guys down at the station and they'd whip out their fancy cars with their fancy sirens if they're feeling up to it." Adachi glanced quickly at the window. It was growing dark outside, and with the dark, came danger. "Dunno how much safer it is to run outside at this time of day anyway. Besides, I haven't got any reason to arrest anybody in here. Got no warrant to search 'em or anything. It'd be illegal on my part."

He may have been speaking louder than he needed to, but a few shoulders seemed to ease around the room. Adachi took note of them, glancing around, but true to his word, he didn't make a move. "So what kind of job is it that's got you running around to shady dumps like this anyway? This must be some boss you're working for. Must be a hardass, making you dip your fingers into stuff like dirt-digging."

Why yes. It was an age-old tradition - complaining about superiors after work.