Happy Hour -- IMDb Flu Edition

[ikissdhimbck]

There's a bartender tonight. Is it someone you recognize? Well, that's debatable.

The sweet Southern cowgirl is really only a shadow of herself, wearing a boisterous little number that shows a generous helping of her long legs, leaving the scar on her right arm bare to the world. Her voice is different, too -- a Louisiana affectation rather

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[not_his_pa]

William tries not to stare when he comes up to the Bar and keeps feeling like he should know the woman there,

"What's gelato and a jukebox, Miss? Miss Barlow, that you?"

Then he sneezes, he doesn't want to get sick.

[ikissdhimbck]

She fishes out a tissue from behind the Bar, and hands it to him.

"Gelato is like ice cream, only a little sweeter. And a jukebox--"

She points over his shoulder to where one sits.

"--plays records when you put money in it."

The boy looks familiar, and when he mentions her name she stops to think.

"Mmm, most people call me Scarlett," she says, holding out a hand.

[not_his_pa]

"Thank you, Miss Scarlett,"

He takes the tissue and sneezes before carefully taking her hand,

"What sort of money does the jukebox take?"

[ikissdhimbck]

"You're welcome. But it's just Scarlett."

She has a sweet way of speaking: soft, quiet, and naturally flirtatious. It just rolls right off her tongue.

"You know? I'm not sure. I know the Bar takes all kinds of money."

[guppy_sandhu]

O.O

"Kate?"

Guppy comes over, looking somewhat startled.

"Er... um... are you warm enough?"

[ikissdhimbck]

"There's plenty of heat in here."

She smirks.

"There'd be more if there was a decent dance floor. Can I get you something?"

[guppy_sandhu]

"Um, just an orange juice please. Are you feeling any better?" Guppy asks.

She shouldn't be down here infecting people, but he suspects if he just says that she'll ignore him.

[ikissdhimbck]

"Orange juice?"

She looks taken aback by that, but shrugs one shoulder.

"You sure you don't want to try one of the specials, at least?"

[scots_wolf]

Oh hello!

Urquhart might feel a little under the weather, but he must be near death or already occupied to ignore that sort of posture and look from a woman behind a bar.

"Hello, darling," he says, his voice very Scottish. "What makes a dirty martini extra dirty?"

[ikissdhimbck]

She looks up from her magazine, setting her chin in her hand, and smirks.

"Extra olives."

Beat.

"Or if the one drinking it is especially bad."

She's teasing with that last part.

[scots_wolf]

"Both, then," Urquhart says, smirking right back at her.

[ikissdhimbck]

She slowly uncrosses her legs and slides off her stool, flipping her catalog shut. She knows how to work a customer when the mood descends.

"You got it, handsome. How do you like it: gin, or vodka?"

[hoopsonfire]

The gothy girl (black leather and lace corset, leather pants, nice stompy boots) peruses the selections offered, and is definitely not surprised to find out there's nothing for her.

But then again, there is never anything for her.

Sad.

[ikissdhimbck]

Scarlett sets her chin in her hand and watches the girl.

"Nothing calls out to you?"

[hoopsonfire]

"Something does, and sometimes I answer, but it does not answer me." The pale girl mirrors the gesture.

Broken mirror.

Sedated voice, unblinking eyes.

[ikissdhimbck]

"Well, sugar, it looks like you could use some coffee."

She sees girls like this all the time downtown, chasing the dragon and god knows what else. Sometimes they just disappear, and no one seems to know where to.

She nods to the board.

"Half-off?"

[not_a_hologram]

Now, who could say no to specials like that?

Certainly not one non-hologram retired admiral. No, up to the bar he goes, cigar in hand--pausing on the way to put some money in the jukebox. (The song he picks is on every jukebox ever.)

It almost makes him wish he could drink again. But he can't, so he just grins as he approaches the bar.

"Sinful gelato? You're calling my name, there."

[ikissdhimbck]

Red lips break into a smile that could melt steel.

"And you're calling my my bluff, there."

Her hips start to sway with the gritty twang of the jukebox, and it's only a matter of time before she's humming along.

"What are you in the mood for, handsome?"

[not_a_hologram]

Oh, that smile... if he'd known there were bartenders like this around here, he'd have come back sooner.

So many possibilities flash through his mind, so many ideas--hey, it's harmless enough. Just a pleasant way to pass the time.

"What I'm in the mood for, they've never been able to bottle," he says. "But I sure wouldn't say no to something sweet."

[ikissdhimbck]

She clucks her tongue.

"Oh, I've got a live one on my hands, do I?"

She winks good-humoredly and leans against the Bar, though her hips keep swaying.

"Well... there's Passion Fruit, Strawberry Champagne..."

Each flavor that leaves her lips hangs sultry in the air, like a summer wish.

"...Rocky Road, Peaches and Cream..."