Saturday night happy hour

[likesthecoat]

Ianto, as always, is pleased to find himself in Milliways, and takes a seat at the bar, anticipating an endless cup of coffee and a night of good talk.

The napkin that pops up is no surprise, though. He reads it and nods. "Absolutely, I can do that."

He goes behind the bar and thinks for a moment, then writes on the specials board:

Tonight's

Comments

[song_of_stars]

A lady who Ianto might recognize from a previous encounter slides onto a bar stool.

[song_of_stars]

"You drink your shrimp cocktails? And you make faces about my drinks. There's something very inequal in that, Ianto."

[likesthecoat]

"No, I don't drink my shrimp cocktails. I was attempting to make a joke."

[ooc: Pause/fade? Time for me to stop.]

[song_of_stars]

"You're drier than a gin martini, Ianto."

(ooc: Whichever you prefer. Night!)

[likesthecoat]

"Thank you," Ianto says modestly.