Who: Partick Barton [Foxtrot] and Rachel Dunst [Juliett] Where: The Long Road Home When: Tuesday, July 7th; Evening/Night What: Drinking. I feel like that's going to be a very common "What" Field, here. Warnings: Drinking. Patrick is a grumpygills.
Rachel wasn't proud of lying to Curtis to avoid spending time with him - but she was feeling suffocated and really did not want to deal with his sulking demeanour should she attempt to explain that she just. Wanted. A. Break.
She could have found a more fun-focused distraction, but the thing she liked about spending time with Patrick was that he really didn't seem to give a shit about her love life. A great benefit when she was tired of being counselled on it.
"Your round, I think," she informed him after draining the last of her drink.
Didn’t give a shit was pretty accurate, really. It wasn’t that Patrick didn’t care about his fellow Agents -- quite the opposite, really. He’d spent most of the time since Xray was suspended worrying about her -- it was just that he didn’t really care much about, well, shit like that. So and so was married to whatsherface. Whosit was best friends with That Guy. And Juliett was dating Oscar. It was information, but it was superfluous. Not like the way Xray might be out of a job for doing her job, not like how they all put their lives on the line every day. It was fluff. And he didn’t have time or energy or, well, shit to give about goddamn fluff.
He nodded, and tossed back the rest of his drink. “You think right. Same thing?” He waved at the bartender, without waiting for an answer. Why change things? What they had last round was fine.
"Can't just keep drinking the same thing forever - where is your sense of adventure?" It was a rhetorical question, really. "Or - you know, keep being boring."
“You call it boring, I call it consistent,” Patrick said flatly. “But, by all means. If you’ve got a better idea, make a suggestion. I’m all ears.”
"Something harder, maybe?"
Patrick frowned. Harder drinks made people sloppy. Still, telling her ‘no’ felt like running away, and that was even more against his instinct.
“Fine,” he replied, rolling his eyes and catching the bartender’s attention before he could get their drinks together. “Two shots for each of us.” He glanced at her. “Surprise me.”
"You're letting him surprise you?" Rachel grinned. "You must really like me."
“Or I’m making a grave miscalculation,” Patrick grumbled. “It isn’t like Teddy could have anything that bad back there, though.” His eyes narrowed. No, that was definitely wrong. He’d seen the kind of shit Teddy could pour into a glass and call potable. This was definitely a mistake.
"I'm going to say both," she decided as Teddy passed over their mystery shots. "Since we both know he very well could have mixed moonshine with something."
“I’m trying not to think about that possibility,” Patrick admitted as he picked up his shot and toasted her. “Though I’m sure we’re going to find out soon enough.”
Appropriately amused, Rachel chinked her shot glass against his and drank. Damn. Whatever Teddy thought a surprise was it was definitely fitting her criteria of heavy.
It’d be an unfair exaggeration to say the substance Patrick felt burning its way down his throat made him gag, but not much of one. Definitely strong, but also definitely not good.
“I think that was some kind of tequila,” he said after a moment of disgusted pondering. “But I’m honestly not sure.”
"At least you've lived a little today," she teased. "And look - neither of us are dead yet. You didn't miscalculate too badly."
“I’m debating if ‘yet’ is the key word in that, though,” he countered. “But I suppose I should enjoy the brief time I have left if it is.” He shook his head. “Though I’m learning not to let you make drink suggestions in the future.”
"Mhmm, I think you mean always let Rachel suggest your drinks."
Patrick pursed his lips, not entirely fond of the tone of her voice.
“Teddy, stop smiling. That is not how things are going to be,” he said, avoiding arguing with her directly.
Under the influence of whatever it was she'd just drunk Rachel hardly noticed that he was avoiding arguing with her. "It is exactly how things are going to be," she interposed. "You're just lucky we're not making you do a second surprise, right, Teddy?"
“Don’t encourage her,” Patrick said to the bartender before turning back toward Rachel. “Don’t say things like that. He’ll take that as an order and the next one is supposed to be on you.”
She smiled innocently. "Don't tell me it wasn't at least a little exciting."
A moment passed, in which he very seriously considered lying. But he supposed something about her smile was, somehow, disarming. In the end, he couldn’t help the tiniest upward twitch up his lip as he admitted: “I guess a little bit, yes.”
"And a smile?" She conspiratorially turned back to Teddy, ready to place another order. "I knew it. He likes me."
The hint of a smile was quickly suppressed as Patrick crossed his arms over his chest. “Just get the drinks and gloat later.”