Zacharias was counting on Susan's promise of a whole bottle of firewhiskey all to himself for coming to this...and in costume. He was a cowboy of some sort. Certainly not a good one. It was the easy costume as far as he was concerned. He was wearing semi-tight jeans, a fitted and partially opened shirt, and a gun holster, completed with a fake gun. He glared momentarily at the hat in his hand. The alcohol had better make it worth it.
He walked up to Java Jack's, body tense and uncomfortable. He hated being around people, and here he was, putting himself around people on purpose. He opened the door, arm wrapping around his waist as he slipped inside and almost ran into someone. "Bloody hell."