Tony Stark (in_extremis) wrote in oh_marvelous, @ 2010-04-09 01:29:00 |
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Entry tags: | z: om1: !closed, z: om1: affiliation: stark enterprises, z: om1: character: tony stark, z: om1: location: california, z: om1: past character: james rhodes |
Dive
Characters: Rhodey and Starky
Setting: Old Town Saloon, San Diego, California
Content: I bet language. And Tony.
Summary: A bit of catching up over a round of pool.
After a series of reassuring text messages-- most of them from Pepper claiming 'Ten minutes'-- the door to the bar swung open to the sudden and harsh pour of the last red daylight, well after four o'clock, for Tony to stroll in coolly like no time had been lost at all. It would have been near empty at the arranged meeting time, but by then the regulars had started to trickle in and there was a line-up at the jukebox, barely audible over the chatter, laughter, and crack of billiard balls. Tony Stark was distinctly out of place. Some noticed-- the hardened men from Miramar or Point Loma with their close cropped hair, still in their worn in combats and t-shirts it would be foolish to pay over ten dollars for, eying this man who sauntered through straight to the bar in his custom made Italian shoes, hair with more product in it than their wives', underwear he paid more for than their whole ensemble (ensemble, already his presence infecting the room.) Tony Stark did not notice.
"George Dickel-- the bottle, and a game, my good man," he requested at the bar, the pair of men he wedged in between leaning away from him, sniffing curiously at the unexpected interjection of his cologne in their space, and just his fingertips gingerly touching the bar, sunglasses twirling in the other hand. It might not have been his scene, but the Old Town Saloon did have a good selection of whisky, and if Tony had been anywhere near on time the bars and lounges that welcomed his coiffed type would have still had barred doors. There was a good chance Tony could have paid someone enough to let him in, but then he would also have to pay for the view he wanted, and here he could get that red-head leaning over the pool table on the far side of the room lining up her shot for free. He watched her with a slowly growing grin until he caught her eye, then her shot went awry and the bottle Tony ordered thunked onto the bar, snapping his attention away. With gracious thanks, Tony was shortly pouring two glasses on the edge of a yet unclaimed pool table, making no excuses and expecting little fanfare over his belated arrival. So he hadn't seen Rhodey in a while, that didn't mean he was supposed to change in the meantime. Or maybe it did; Tony had already forgotten what they were even not talking over this time. Tardiness would have been petty. Tony could do petty. Petty enough to not care to be more punctual.