wow (flirty) wrote in genome_project, @ 2012-07-14 21:34:00 |
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Entry tags: | july 2012, megan grant, scout collins |
Who: Megan Grant & Scout Collins
What: stuff.
When: Midday, Saturday
Where: On the Rocks
Rating: low-ish. Might have swears. *earmuffs*
He was at work. Early. Or early for Scout, who preferred to sleep until the sun had passed its zenith. But Ian had wanted him to come in and prep the bar for later. Saturday night was when everyone and their alcoholic mother went out on the town, hoping to get sloshed or score, or both. It was much more exciting to work during the rush, rather than hours before it, Scout was finding. He figured this was some kind of punishment on Ian's part. For what exactly, he didn't know, but, well, if he'd been Ian's boss, he'd probably have done the same thing. He, however, would have at least had the courtesy to come sit at the long, mahogany bar and badger his suffering brother, rather than leave to "run errands." But, that was Ian for you. So thoughtless.
Stifling a yawn, he scanned the close-quartered room as he stocked the most popular liquors under the bar for easy reach. The usual smattering of ne'er-do-wells sat scattered around, everyone sitting by himself at a booth or resting her head on the bar. Scout dropped his eyes and sighed inwardly, taking the rag from the cloudy sanitary bucket at his feet. He wrung it out slowly, before deciding he didn't want to wipe anything down again. No. What he wanted, actually, was a drink. That wasy easily remedied.
There was a half-full bottle of Grey Goose within arm's reach. Scout fetched it up and eyeballed himself a shot into a glass. He capped the vodka and replaced it. Then, without flourish, he took up the shotglass and emptied it in a quick, well-practiced motion.