Frank wasn't a big drinker, as a rule. Having spent his entire adult life in the army, he'd stuck to a pretty strict diet to keep himself sharp. That wasn't to say he didn't, it just wasn't a usual form of recreation for him. Now that he was office based, now that he wasn't out in the field anymore, it felt less irresponsible. Now that he could clock off at the end of a day (for the most part) he didn't need to be continually sharp.
The Cat smelt of any other bar, oddly sweet, with a vague mix of perfumes and colognes in the air. Clean, at least. He'd been in some genuine dives, not just those themed that way. There was nothing that had particularly driven him to drink tonight, just the draw of the end of the week and the usual weight of the things he had learnt in the day that pressed down on him for an hour or two after he left work.
Frank arrived in time to see Nishka knock back her most recent shot, approaching the bar slowly and taking a seat, one stool between them out of politeness.
"Whiskey, neat, please. And whatever the lady's having," he ordered, tipping his head to indicate which lady he was referring to.
"The lady's drinking whiskey," the bartender replied extraneously, pausing as though Frank might change his mind given the fact.
"Then I guess two whiskeys. Whichever the lady prefers," Frank replied. "I'm sure she has good taste."
Perhaps the bartender was just looking out for her, and Frank, solid as he was, sitting down and buying her a drink without so much of a hello might have rung some warning bells. The kid would get a tip, regardless.
"I ain't here to bother you, ma'am," he added softly, as an assurance, tipping his glass as Nishka once it was placed in front of him, a little salute before he sipped his drink, propping his head up on his closed fist and gazing down into the liquid.