Re: [The Cat: Nishka & Cat & Jack]
He didn't recognize the woman on the barstool with the whiskey but that wouldn't last long. The town gossiped and whispered and eventually the whispers would run their course and every last scrap of dirt they could dig up would be turned over on the poor woman's front porch. She had whiskey, and Jack looked obediently where she tilted the glass to catch the light. He leaned an elbow into the bar rather than sitting completely and he looked in the direction of the pool-table once more briefly before re-angling attention back as if the pool-table did not exist.
It was far bloody easier to make his way over there if he'd spent more than five minutes in the bar first. "Irish whiskey. Seconded closely by Scots, and far behind both followed by anyone else who dares to try," he said with a wry smile for those who failed in the attempt.
"Cat." Acknowledgment, "Or the drinking of the whiskey. It needn't be the smile by itself, although that isn't to curtail the smile if the smile feels so inclined." The glass on the bar in front of him smelled far more expensive than anything he'd tasted in the last month, which was to say, it was meant for savoring.
He looked expectantly at the woman who'd had the glass put down in his name, "Yes, if I'm going to thank you for picking up my drink, it would be nice to know who to thank."