Re: Cat + Jack: booze and books
Awareness was always a bitch. Cat would've preferred to go through life blind, but she wasn't graced with blindness. Pity, but one did what one had to, and she did what she had to. Fully aware, eyes open, and here she was, adding a new person to her list of people, even though she would profess to have none. People? Hadn't ever done her much good, with a few exceptions, and even those had left scars in their wake.
But she was what she was, and she could only fight her nature so hard, and she could only fight her nature for so long. Cat? Cat knew when to give in, and she knew when she was cutting off her nose to spite her face.
He took the glass she set down, and her gaze slid to the book that now rested on the counter. She didn't reach for it, and she didn't turn it so she could better read the cover. She just looked, and when he asked if she was drinking? She grinned and reached for a bottle from beneath the counter. Bourbon, dark and rich, and the glass she poured it into was still warm off the rack, but Cat didn't care.
She took a long, long sip, liking the burn as much as the taste. She didn't mix in anything to take away the bite. She didn't add ice to hear the clinking against the glass. It was pure, and Cat liked it that way. Another sip, and she set the glass down. Elbows on the counter, and she leaned against it in long and graceful stretch. "What did you bring me?"
Because getting him talking, explaining? It meant he wouldn't jump right into interview mode, and wasn't that a nice thing?