Gemma Masters (scousewitch) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-10-12 20:37:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, alyssa hamilton, gemma masters |
Who: Gemma Masters & Alyssa Hamilton
What: Making friends
When: 10/11, afternoon
Where: The Den, Neena's bar
Rating/Warning: PG13
Status: Complete!
Gemma was on shift during what passed for a lunch rush at the Den on a weekday. She’d been a little grumbly when she’d found out the schedule - she needed the money, damn it - but what could you do. She was cleaning up in between the occasional customer, calling back orders for bar food and generally trying not to be bored.
Alyssa wanted a rum and Coke. She had a flask of rum, but didn’t have a Coke, which was a problem. She was also hungry, so she walked into the nearest bar and proceeded to sit down. The bartender was a pretty brunette, and Alyssa gave her a glittering smile. If she didn’t card her, she’d just order a beer.
Gemma saw the girl come in - she wasn’t sure how old she was, but it was lunchtime. “Ta, luv, what’ll you have?” She was pretty, too - a redhead, with nice lips.
Well, shit. The girl was from back home too, and Alyssa didn’t want to get her into trouble. “A club sandwich and a glass of Coke, if you have it? Cheers.” Alyssa smiled, tucking her long hair behind her ears.
Damn, she was not only from home, but posh. Gemma laughed. “Dunno if it’s a good or bad thing that you look like a California girl.” She went over to get the girl’s drink, calling back into the kitchen for the sandwich.
“Do I?” Alyssa’s eyebrows shot up. “I should take you out back and duff you up, that’s just mean.” But she smiled shortly after, trying to let on that she was kidding.
“You’re too tanned to be one of us now.” Gemma kidded. “‘Course, you sound all posh anyway. You ain’t from my digs.”
“This isn’t tanned by California standards. And to tell truth, it’s only because I burned last week.” Alyssa laughed, accepting her Coke and putting it between her legs. She took out her flask and tipped in a shot’s worth of rum. “You’re hearing the boarding school accent. It could be worse, I’m from Essex.”
“Ooh, Gawd, The Only Way is Essex.” Gemma snickered. “Well, our fine British school system worked well enough; you don’t sound like Russell Brand at all.”
“I don’t think I had time, actually. Mum shipped me off when Dad left her. I was ... six?” Alyssa looked up as she thought. “I only just got out last year.”
“Bloody hell.” Gemma stopped, raising an eyebrow. “You’re what, twenty? S’like prison, that.”
“Eighteen,” Alyssa corrected. “Mum left the country in the middle of my last year at school, and I came over here with her. It was either that or stay in England under the headmistress’ eye.” That would’ve been torture.
“So, Mum, or substitute Mum.” Gemma made a face. “Glad I never went to any school like that. Just went to your average primary and secondary.” She poured herself a glass of water to keep behind the bar. “So, what’d they do besides get you to talk like a swot and probably keep you eternally sexually frustrated?” Boarding schools were usually one gender only.
“That’s about it, really. I speak fairly good French, so I’m told, but how useful is that going to be over here?” Alyssa eye rolled. “I’m doing pretty well at university with little effort, so they must have done something well. Either that or my uni is awful.”
“Spanish would do you better here.” Gemma nodded. “My money’s on the uni being awful, incidentally.”
“It’s probably six on one, half a dozen on the other.” Alyssa smiled, sipping her rum and coke. “And Spanish would’ve done me better, yeah.” She shrugged her shoulders; it wasn’t like she could go back to school for it now. “What brought you here?”
“Boredom?” Gemma shrugged, starting to clean. She was called by another patron, a regular who leered at her, but she just filled his drink order before coming back to the girl. “Got sick of home and sick of the parents. Buggered off to Paris on a whim, then got a job starting in the south of France on a cruise liner.” She chuckled. “Spent six months sailing round the world making Kahlua mudslides for tourists.”
“Oh, god, do people actually drink those?” Alyssa made a gagging sound then shook her head. “I drink gin and rum, and that’s... it, really.” She was a bit of a purist. “Oh, and lager, obviously.”
“Can’t go wrong with lager, I daresay.” Gemma sighed. “Gin’s terrible, though. Can’t stomach the shite. One of the regulars here likes to poke me by ordering gin martinis.” He was a sweet old duffer, though, so she let it slide. “I ran a pub for a friend of me mum’s for yonks, and most of the blokes who came in loved beer.”
“I only like certain kinds of lager. Mum says I’m a snob.” Alyssa chuckled to herself. “My boyfriend doesn’t even drink yet, he says he’s not going to until he’s legal.”
Gemma laughed, lowering her voice. “So you sneak rum into your drinks, but won’t drink lagers that aren’t qualified?”
“Obviously. I’m bitchy that way,” Alyssa winked.
“Teach me for thinking you were all posh twat.” Gemma winked back. “Name’s Gemma, I’m from Liverpool by way of Mile End, London, and the only thing I miss about home is bloody Fulham FC.”
“Alyssa Hamilton. And I really only miss footy to watch the lads run around in their footy kits.” She grinned and lifted her drink in a toast. “My boyfriend’s a yank, so he has no idea what it is anyway.”
“Footy kit’s a nice part of it.” Gemma grinned, toasting with her water. “Dating a yank, though? Must be special. Either that, or know a good lager from the pisswater they call beer here.”
“He’s ... I don’t know. He’s smart and loyal and funny. He’s been through a lot of awful things with me. He’s jealous of my best mate, even though my best mate’s engaged to my other best mate, but that’s just because Logan took my virginity.” Alyssa scoffed and drained the rest of her beverage. “Men. They think planting the flag in first holds some sort of mythic quality.”
“I once shagged a bloke called Logan. Bloody terrible.” Gemma was cleaning again, holding up each bottle to make sure she got underneath. “Horribly hairy, and all he did was flop on me and grunt. At least he was respectably sized.”
That made Alyssa raise both her eyebrows. The she laughed loudly, tossing her head back. “Oh my god, tell me his last name was Howlett.”
Gemma stared. “Might’ve been, d’you know?” That was just terrifying. “How in the hell would you know a blighter like that?”
Alyssa laughed. “He’s the mate who took m’virginity! The one my boyfriend’s terrified I’ll leave.” Alyssa fished out her phone and pulled out a photo of her and Logan, one where the older man was giving the camera a rare smile while Alyssa gave him bunny ears.
“That’s mad, that.” Gemma’s eyebrows were through the roof. “Why on earth would you shag him? Unless he’s somehow got a thousand percent better in the last five years or so?”
“He was quite capable with me, actually. I don’t know a lot of women who orgasm their first time.” Alyssa shrugged. “I’m fond of him.” She’d been head over heels at the time, but she wasn’t about to say that.
“Unbelievable.” Gemma shook her head. “It can’t be the same bloke. The one I knew was a twat.” She was actually fairly sure it was the same bloke, but she didn’t want to piss off this girl, who seemed rather friendly. “I’ll have to ring him up or something.”
“Oh, he’s a twat all right. I’m just fond of him.” Alyssa shrugged. “He’s getting married soon, gorgeous woman. Their child will be adorable.” Alyssa couldn’t help making Gemma’s eyes get bigger.
“Blimey. Maybe I won’t ring him, then.” If this Logan had gotten better in the sack, she’d hoped she might get a remembrance fuck out of it, but no homewrecking was one of Gemma’s stern rules. “Only lunch date I’ve had so far is with my uncle. Which is right depressing, really. Even he’s got a boyfriend.”
“That’s awful. The bastard.” Alyssa shook her head in sympathy. “Honestly, dating’s a pain sometimes. Enjoy being single while you have it.”
“I’d enjoy it more if I could get a shag.” Gemma laughed. “But I dunno, shouldn’t be troublin’ someone I just met. ‘Specially on the job.”
“Well, if Damian dumps me randomly, I’ll be sure to come back and flirt with you,” Alyssa teased. “Promise.”
“Aw. Ta.” Gemma smirked. “Though if your Damian dumps you randomly, you should probably hurt him first.”
“Depends why he dumps me. If it’s just because we grow apart, I can’t possibly fault him for that. But to be honest, I doubt that’ll happen. I’m ... a bit stupid over him.” Alyssa felt her pale cheeks going pink.
“Well, good. I’ll cater at your wedding, then.” Gemma tipped a salute.
“You cook too? Good lord, maybe I should marry you.” Alyssa giggled.
“Not as such, but worked for a caterer for a while, and I’m bloody good slinging drinks.” Gemma poured a drink for a regular who’d called out to her, flipping the rum bottle behind her back.
Alyssa hooted and clapped for a moment before returning to her own soda. A regular one this time; she didn’t want to drive home pissed.
Gemma finished her cleaning, then came back to the girl Alyssa. “Need anything else, luv? About to clock off.”
“Oh, no, I’m fine, thanks. I was just going to finish my fizzy drink then pop home.” She smiled at Gemma, then wrote her number down on a napkin. “If you ever want to get lunch.”
“Might be nice, sure.” Gemma took it with a smile. “Might have a line on a place that does the only other thing I miss from home - good pub food.”
“If you find one, I’ll owe you.” Alyssa beamed. “Truly, I haven’t had really good chips since I got here.”
“Uncle John tipped me off. I’ll try it and then let you know. This place apparently does the same manky bangers and mash we lot are used to.” Gemma grinned.
“I’m so happy, I could cry.” Alyssa finished her soda and then forked over a fifty percent tip. It was her mother’s money, why not?
So was Gemma, at that point. Every dollar helped. “Much obliged. Come back in here when you can drink and I’ll try to lay in some good British lager.” Well. If she wanted to come back beforehand, that was okay, too.
“I’ll be back before then, promise.” Alyssa gave Gemma a mock salute before sliding off of her chair.