Martha Jones + Nikita Mears
The comment about the woman being a doctor so she should know only caused Nikita to smirk from slight amusement. Not about the woman, but on the statement. “You may be a doctor, but you’re not the first and won’t be the last who doesn’t take it easy or doesn’t keep track.” Lord knows how many doctors she had seen over the years stumbling around drunk because they didn’t know their limit or thought they weren’t the only one drinking.
Nikita had started to stand up to go get water when the woman had stopped to change the order. “Okay, one pickle juice coming right up. Stay here,” she told the woman before vanishing through the crowd to go to the bar. Smiling at the bartender, she ordered a glass of pickle juice and a water, looking back in the direction of where she had come. Nikita couldn’t see the table or the woman, but hoped she had stayed put and not tried to go exploring. The fact she was a doctor and not some teen who thought they could hold their alcohol gave her some hope on that front. Getting the drinks, she made her way back to the table to find the woman was still sitting in the place she left her.
“Here you go,” she placed both of the drinks on the table. “Drink up and I got you water as well just in case.” Nikita moved to take her seat again as she let the woman have her pickle juice drink.