Cappie was feeling down in the dumps. When the Atlantis notification had come through earlier that day, he hadn't expected to see that Hamilton had gone home. He'd liked the guy and he was going to miss trying to out-drink him at parties. Still, he'd known that feeling a bit glum wasn't going to cut it in Abe's book as an excuse not to turn up to work so here he was, dutifully manning the bar at Dive while Abe took stock out the back.
He'd exchanged a few words with Roman earlier when he'd served him his beers, but he hadn't been in much of a mood to make small talk, even with Roman, who, by all accounts, was a good conversationalist. Instead, he'd skulked away quickly each time he was done serving, busying himself by taking glasses out of the glass washer and putting them away in their proper places on the shelves below the bar, one eye on the game which was playing on the screens overhead. However, after a little while, his attention was caught by the scene playing out over at the pool table.
Now, Cappie had seen Roman play pool enough times at Dive to know at once that the two guys playing against him were going to lose, and lose hard, but apparently he was putting on a good enough show that it took them a while to realise it themselves. Cappie found himself chuckling to himself as he watched Roman, inevitably, wipe the floor with his unlucky challengers.
They must have made their game interesting because, no sooner had they lost, the two guys sloped up to the bar and said they wanted to pay every outstanding tab.
"That's very generous of you," Cappie said brightly, ringing up the amount (plus an extra two beers, for Roman and himself) on the register and watching with a kind of wicked glee as both men grudgingly reached for their wallets. Unsurprisingly, they decided to leave pretty sharpish as soon as the bill was paid, leaving the bar all but empty.
Cappie helped himself to the pre-paid beers, came out from behind the deserted bar and crossed the room to the pool table, where Roman had started up another game.
"You know, you should really warn people if you plan to hand them their ballsacks on a plate, you know?" he said, a chuckle in his voice as he placed Roman's fresh beer down on one of the high, round tables beside the wall. "It's only polite."