Sadie Shepherd (sadieshep) wrote in beeocalypse, @ 2008-06-21 11:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | sadie, slate |
Double-Z; [backdated to] Sunday; Sadie and Slate
Sadie had been exhausted after closing on Saturday night, so she didn't clean the bar as much as she would have liked. That was what Sunday morning was for. She whistled along to the radio as she used a rag to clean off one of the tables by the front windows. She heard the sound of a car pulling up as she worked, and paused to squint out of the window.
A pickup truck stopped on the side of the street in front of the bar. Sadie recognized it and slightly furrowed her brow. What was Slate Buckner doing there that early in the morning? Sadie continued watching out of the window, waiting to see where he was going - the bar or somewhere else.
Oh, Slate was most definitely heading into the bar. A special request for some Springfield Rum and Tulsa Whiskey from one (insert military ran here) Keturah Shepherd had mysteriously ended up on his desk a couple of weeks ago. Out of the kindness of his heart, and because Sadie's sister was a good friend of his, Slate had authorized the shipment. He wasn't, however, going to let Ketty bring the shipment over. Oh no, he'd pulled on Sadie's pigtails for too many years to pass up an opportunity to call her out ever.
So there he was, pulling up in his truck which had multiple wooden crates in its truck bed covered up with a tarp that had been in the back. He tossed the end of the cover away, in his fatigues today since he was helping out with exercises later in the day. He slid two of the large crates, each holding about four or five gallon-sized glass bottles of unmarked (a special request made by Slate himself) brown or clear liquid respectively toward him and then hoisted them up into his arms. Then he headed for the door. Since it was so early, of course it was locked so he gave the door a couple of swift kicks. "Open up, Shep!" he called out after a glance around. Nah, it was too early on a Sunday for many stragglers - they were at church. Most of them were anyway.
Sadie's eyebrows had arched up when she saw the crates and realized what was in them. The Double Z had hit its alcohol import limit for the month, but there were still two weeks left until July. Ketty had owed Sadie a favor, so she agreed to get the rum and whiskey. And, apparently, even when Ketty indebted to Sadie, she still managed to cause her grief. This time in the form of Slate the delivery boy.
Sadie shook her head and dropped the rag on the table. She had just started toward the door when Slate started banging on it. "Slow your roll, I'm coming!" she called back. He should feel lucky she wasn't still asleep upstairs. She unlocked the numerous bolts on the door and opened it up. "A little early for a drink, don't you think?" She asked through the screen door before she pushed it open with her foot. He was in the way, but she would keep tapping it open until he moved.
Slate smirked behind his sunglasses with she appeared, just the right half of his mouth turning upward. "I had a few on the way over actually. Miracle I didn't just drive on through the front of your shabby little establishment," He teased her before he tightened his grip on the boxes and stepped out of the way of the screen door.
He waited until he could get inside to speak again. "Where do you want 'em?" He asked her. He still had a few more crates to lug, so he had some time to think of some witty little comments for her.
"I would've told you to leave them in the front, but after that little jab, you're going to have to carry 'em all the way into the back room." She gave him a cool smile and nodded in the direction of the room behind the bar.
Slate clicked his tongue a few times and shook his head as he started through the bar toward the back. It wasn't like his muscles were exactly straining. "Watch it, Shep," He said in one of those stern warning tones. "You're lucky you got this shit at all." He informed her. More like she was lucky he was on good terms with Ket.
Sadie walked ahead of him so she could get the door and prop it open with a doorstop. "Whatever, Ketty owed me," she said as she gave the stop a quick kick to make sure it stayed put. "And speaking of, why isn't she the one bringing it over?"
Slate rolled his eyes, which may have been hard to tell behind the sunglasses but whatever. "Right. Ketty owed you. I didn't." He smirked. "So next time you want special treatment, march your tiny blonde ass over to my office and request it the right way. Don't be a sissy and use your sister." Even though he'd been highly amused when he'd found the request, hidden in his desk drawer just where Ket knew he'd look. Sneaky Shepherds. "She's not bringing it over because I told her I was bringing it over since you'd bribed her into requesting it. Wanted to give you the warning in person." He informed her as he carried the crates through the door.
Sadie pretended to click her heels together and gave Slate a mocking salute. "Oh, well, then yes, sir. Won't let you down next time." She lowered her hand and leaned against one of the shelving units as she waited for Slate to put down the crates. "And if Ketty told you I bribed her, she's full of it. I won the poker game; she owed me alcohol."
Slate put the crates down in a few space and then stood up, shaking his head at the mock salute a little. "Hm." He said in a swift curt tone with a slight nod of his head before he started heading back through the bar to get some more crates. "The thing you're forgetting, is that I didn't owe you." He grinned impishly at her. "Which means that you, in fact, now owe me." He smirked.
Sadie considered this and let out a grumble as she followed him out. "I don't like how this has turned out. I'm going to need a chart. And figure out a way to pass the buck back to Ketty."
Slate let out a short snort of laughter as he reached his truck and dragged the other three crates to the edge of the truck bed. He held one out to Sadie. What? She should have to carry some of the load! And he knew she could lift it, she wasn't exactly a whimp after all. Anyway, he grabbed the other two, on on top of the other. "Either way you still have to go through me when you surpass your import limit next month." He grinned innocently at her. "And then you'll owe me double. I make out like a bandit on this deal." He said as he lugged the crates back through the door.
Sadie looked at the crate for a moment before taking it with reluctance. "I think you should get the Mayor to raise the limit," she said as she lifted the box quickly so she could get a better grip on the bottom. "I hear you have an in with him. And clearly the townspeople demand more drink, so he should give in to the will of the people."
Slate narrowed his eyes and nearly dropped the crates on purpose just to fuck with Sadie. He didn't, however, want to start a fight with Sadie's sister, who he was pretty sure had a good shot at taking him in a fist fight on some days. "Why don't we let the whole town turn to drunks while we're at it and see how long we can last before collapse too?" He asked sarcastically as he set the crates down a little harder than necessary with the other ones to make the glass bottles rattle together. "What a brilliant idea, Shep! I wonder why no one's thought of it before..." He shrugged up his shoulders and tilted his head in feigned thought.
Sadie arched her eyebrows and found some free space to set down her own crate. Once she straightened up, she turned back to Slate. "So says the guy who just broke the rules by supplying me with crate after crate of Tulsa Whiskey." She gave him a pat on the side of his arm on her way out of the room. "Way to be part of the solution."
Slate followed her out of the room and then picked up the pace to get in front of her to stop her path. He stepped up to Sadie, to within less than an arm's length. He lifted his hand and pointed at her after he tugged off his sunglasses with his other hand. "I didn't bend the rules for everyone. I bent them for your sister because she's a good friend. Maybe you should invest in making friends with me and then you won't have to stoop to the sneaky means of swindling favors out of her." He said. "And by the way this?" he waved his hand at the crates. "Doesn't exist, got it? It falls on your sister if anyone finds out and I don't think even you would do that to your sister. She's a good soldier, don't fuck up her career for a stupid bar." He put his sunglasses back on and backed off a couple steps.
Sadie stopped abruptly and looked down at Slate's stern finger. She looked up again when he started lecturing her on what she could and could not do to her sister. Ridiculous! Of course Sadie would never do anything like that to her sister. She'd never hear the end of it if she did. Also Ketty would be pretty miserable, and that would suck. But anyway, the point was that Slate did not need to be telling her this. So she ignored it and instead smirked and shook her head at him.
"So what you're saying is that you did all this just to convince me we need to spend more time together?" she asked, raising her eyebrows to feign flattered surprise. "That's adorable." She rolled her eyes right afterward and sidestepped him to head for the door.
Slate rolled his eyes and made a face at Sadie. Ha! Yeah right, like he'd ever mean that. He turned and watched her walk toward the door for an extended moment. What? He was only human, and she did have a nice ass. "You would be egotistical enough to think I meant that," He rolled his eyes and sauntered on after her. "I simply want you to have a stronger backbone so you can learn to speak up." he smirked.
Sadie glanced at him over her shoulder as she stepped through the door. "My backbone is strong enough, thank you. My agreement with Ketty was a matter of convenience. I won the game; she had connections."
She stopped in front of the truck bed and pulled out another crate. "But trust me, if I'd known you wanted to be my BFF so bad, I would've come to you first." She gave him a curt smile and headed back into the building.
Slate narrowed his eyes, but again the sunglasses took away from that since they blocked said narrowing. He dragged out the last crate after she picked on up and hoisted it up over his shoulder with his right arm. "Well, now you owe me so there will be plenty of time for best buddy bonding." He smirked as he followed her back inside.
"And I, for one, can't wait." Sadie carried the crate into the back room and placed it on top of the last one she'd set down. She turned around and looked down at the palms of her hands before brushing them off. "Is that everything?"
Slate rolled his eyes as he lifted the crate from his shoulder and put it down. "Your gratitude knows no bounds," He said with a dramatic little sigh. "Do try to make this last until your limit resets next month." His eyebrows arched over the rims of his sunglasses.
"I was getting to the thank you part, speedy. I wanted to make sure this was the last of the goods first," Sadie shook her head. "You should tell your buddies 'down at the fort' to stop coming by so much, and maybe we won't go over the limit."
Slate shook his head. "You're so good at 'thank you's'," He barely managed to keep himself from adding 'it's no wonder you're single' but every now and then Slate had a heart about certain things. "And passing blame, apparently as well." He smirked. "Rationing. It's your friend. Maybe if you learned to cut people off sooner, your supplies won't run out oh so fast, hm?"
Yeah, that was the sensible thing to do. But Sadie had a hard time turning down money when it was coming in. She didn't exactly have the best head for business, but she was trying. "Thank you," she said, leaning forward a little bit to really stress those words, "for the advice, soldier. I'll take it under advisement."
Slate closed his eyes and let out a sigh at the 'thank you', ignoring the rest. "Well now, Shep, I almost thought you meant it that time." He smirked. He wasn't really that put out by ordering the extra alcohol. Could he get in trouble? Sure. Did he care that much? Not really. Was it fun to mess with Sadie though? Hell yeah. "Can't say I'm surprised your manners are lacking though," He made a show of looking around. "This place is pretty shabby after all." He smirked.
Sadie crossed her arms and shook her head. "Sorry to say that doesn't mean much, coming from you. You probably think everything off your cul-de-sac looks shabby. The rest of us have to do what we can with what we've got."
Slate shrugged and crossed his own arms loosely. "You're the one who claimed she was a pacifist and screwed up her military future." He looked her up and down a moment and smirked. "Don't get jealous of me because of your own shortcomings," Heh. He shook his head. He worked pretty damn hard to live somewhere other than over a shabby bar.
Sadie rolled her eyes at the pun. "Clearly I'm all torn up about my lack of a military future," she said with a tight smile. "I know it's hard for you to understand being all programmed like you are, but maybe I screwed it up on purpose." She finished with a nod and a little lift off her heels.
Slate grinned as she went on. "Exactly. Which is why I said don't be jealous of my dwellings because you couldn't bear to hack it in the military. You act like you did it because you're all into music I'll bet you never thought about how much more influential you could be if you were in charge of the radio station and importing new music from the other cities and all that crap, did you?" He arched an eyebrow. No, she just moved in with that Job guy and look where that got her - stuck in a shabby bar in a shady part of town.
Sadie frowned a little and settled her feet back down to the floor. That did sound kind of cool, but whatever. "Dedicating my life to the military just so I can control a radio station is a shitty tradeoff. I'm able to influence all I need right here." She unfolded her arms and gestured toward the stage.
Slate arched his eyebrows and looked at the stage, then took the moment she gracious gave him to check her out again. He shrugged up his shoulder innocently. "Sure, if all you're looking to influence is a couple of wet dreams and some hand-to-groin moments." He retorted. He had to admit to himself that he'd had his fair share of these moments after watching her on stage looking all hot and trying to be all important with her music. What? The Shepherd girls weren't exactly hard to look at... "If that's the kind of kinky shit you're into, Shep, then carry on," He shrugged.
Sadie turned back, frowning further. "If that's the best that I can get in this town, then so be it. I don't see how being stuck in the military doing drills and being all 'yes, sir' all day long is going to help me get a music career. At least here I get to actually perform and, y'know, be my own person."
Slate just let half of his mouth turn up into a smirk. He didn't 'Yes sir' people all day. That was in the beginning. Those days had been surpassed already. He leaned a little closer, to y'know get to her height level, "If I wasn't my own person, Shep," He glanced toward the back room where they'd put the alcohol and then turned his attention back to her. "You wouldn't have your shipments until July." He said before he stood back up.
Sadie had no response to that good point, so she just narrowed her eyes up at him instead. That worked just as well in a pinch. "Regardless, your recruitment guilt tactics aren't going to work on me. You're going to have to find someone else you can feel superior to for the afternoon. I'm sure there are tons of soldiers just waiting."
HA! He got her! He loved winning the argument, especially when it was against Sadie. It was too bad she'd left the ROTC, he would've like to get her sparring again - rolling around on a mat with a hot blonde chick? Just a perk of his job, indeed. He smirked a little. "I guess I will," He shrugged. He didn't really feel like he was better than her. His rank in job and town was higher but she was still Sadie and Ketty's little sister, even if they were the same age. He turned and started for the door of the bar. "I'm only superior to you in official rank, Shep," He said as he wallked. He did stop at the door to call over his shoulder with a grin. "And looks." He smirked and turned around to head out to his truck so he could shut the tailgate and secure the tarp in the back so it wouldn't fly away.
Sadie took a few quick steps to follow him to the door. "Yeah, dream on," she called after him with a scoff. "You know that uniform looked better on me then it ever will on you."
Slate smirked as he folded up the tarp and stuck it into the metal trunk attached across the width of the bed right against the back window. There were random necessities in there like bungee cords, hunting knives, flashlights, camping equipment, etc, etc. He shut the trunk and set the clasp in place. He smirked again and chuckled at her comment. Yeah she did look better in it and he'd looked a lot in the ROTC high school years. "You wish." He laughed and turned to face her again. He headed for the driver's side and tugged the door open. "You try not to miss me too much now, hear?" He smirked and pulled the door shut once he was in the truck and had it started up.
Sadie held onto the doorframe with one hand and leaned out to give him a sarcastic salute with the other. Once he drove away she straightened up again and went inside to start opening some of those crates.
Slate wondered, as he drove away with a wave out the window on his way toward the base, how long it was going to take Sadie to realize that one of the crates was actually an extra and wasn't in the order. It was a case of Chihuahua Tequila, and he'd crossed a good amount of red tape so to speak in order to find it and have it delivered. Even when the bars in town and what not were under their alcohol limit, it was near impossible to get tequila outside of the USWA, let along from the other southern territories. She totally owed him, even if she hadn't asked fori t. He just happened to like tequila, and since the troops hung out there a lot, he decided to go out of his way. See, he was nice sometimes, maybe.