InsaneJournal

There were a lot of things that the city had thrown at Ellen Harvelle since she'd arrived. Personality changes, false memories of bearing a son that she'd never had, Archangels duking it out for dominance in the streets, even invasions both of the dangerous persuasion and some that were downright ridiculous, she had seen far more in her short amount of time in Colligo than she'd ever seen back home. And considering the crap she had dealt with there, that was saying a lot.

Fortunately, though, this latest situation wasn't quite as bad as it might have been. To start with, at least she had a few things in common with the man she had been forced to share her life with as of late. He was a doting, overprotective parent, knew his weapons, and had no problem hurting anybody that messed with his family. He was calm under pressure, thought quick on his feet, and had a decent enough sense of humor even if it was a touch dry for her taste. Sure, he wasn't Bill. Then again, no one was like the man she had married back in her youth and no one ever would be. But Noah wasn't bad, either. The fact that he was Claire's dad, while adding a touch of awkwardness to the situation, also helped a bit too. Because if there was one thing Ellen had learned hard and fast when dealing with Dean's wife, it was that the girl - and the reality she came from - knew crazy when they saw it and most of them were pretty good at dealing with it without much reservation.

That was a good trait to have when you were stuck with a woman who ran a place like the Roadhouse. There was no telling what sort of clientele was going to walk through the door at any given moment, on any given night. Back home, it had mostly been hunters and the like who had frequented the place, but here? Well, in Colligo, most anything was possible.

Fortunately, Ellen wasn't the only one who had to take care of things. Jo did her fair share, as did the handful of folks they'd hired during the time they'd been open. Most of them were like family to her, people she trusted without a second thought; they knew how to hold their own, how to diffuse a situation, and when to shut up and just listen to what she had to say. And, perhaps even more fortunately, none of them had taken to giving her a hard time about her pseudo 'husband' either.

Speaking of which. After tending to the half dozen or so patrons who were milling about at the bar, Ellen cast a glance toward the end to where Noah was seated. With the expertise that came from making tending a bar your life's work, she poured the two of them a drink and made her way down to him. Setting the scotch - one of the better brands - down in front of him, she offered him a touch of a smile by way of greeting.

"I don't think you could look more out of place here if you tried," she commented as she ran her fingertips around the rim of her own glass. "I'm taking it you didn't frequent many bars like this one, back home, huh?"

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