Alex Roivas shoots zombies in the head. (lastroivas) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-10-19 21:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, alexandra roivas, irene adler |
Who: Alex Roivas and Irene Adler.
What: Let's drink!
When: 10/18, Friday night.
Where: The Cut (A bar).
Rating: PG-13.
Status: Complete!
Irene had invited Alex to meet her for a drink up at the cutter bar in Santa Ana. Bounty hunters were law enforcement, so she’d be allowed in when she flashed her license. Besides, Irene had talked to the doorman. They knew her here. And knew to warn her if Harry McGlade showed up.
For now, she was sitting at a corner table, having ordered a beer while she waited. It had been an ugly one today. Her clothes smelled like bloated corpse - she didn’t blame anyone for staying away from her.
Alex walked in about five minutes after Irene, having gotten through the door easily after flashing her license. She probably also just looked like law enforcement - she was tired, her hair was a bit tousled, and her leather jacket was unzipped. It exposed a bit of bandage on her shoulder, and she sighed as she flopped into the booth across from Irene. “Hey.”
Irene noticed the bandage - Alex had mentioned getting hurt somehow, but it was still kind of a shock to see it up close. “Hey. How are you? Healing?” She moved okay, for the most part. It was good to see.
“Yeah, it was a through and through, we got it.” Alex shrugged, curling her legs under her body. “How’re you doing, anyway?”
“Okay. I’m surprised you can’t smell me.” Irene sighed. “It was a long day. Had some interlopers in my morgue earlier, and then just finished a nasty one that they fished out of a cave in the ocean off Los Alamitos.” It was damn nice to get a drink after all that.
“I can, I just don’t care,” Alex smiled. “Floaters are always gross, not like you could help it.” Alex whistled at the bartender, calling him over and holding up a finger. She pointed to the draft beers.
“Yeah, but still. I should probably have showered at home, but I just wanted to relax for a while.” Irene looked over at her cousin. “But you’re doing good? Do you have to do PT or anything like that?”
“Nah, not for a while yet. Right now it’s just psych evals and then once I can move the damn thing again, maybe PT. Until then, I have to hang out with Dr. Sexy like on that damn show and make sure I’m not deranged.” Alex wrinkled her nose.
“Dr. Sexy?” Irene was amused. “Thought you just said you didn’t have to do PT yet?”
“My shrink,” Alex eyerolled. “Of course I get the hot Italian guy. At least he doesn’t notice when I flirt with him. That’s a perk.”
“Wait, your shrink is a hot Italian guy?” Irene raised an eyebrow, amused. “Why do you say he doesn’t notice? Is he gay?”
“Dunno. I just don’t think he’s into me.” Alex shrugged her good shoulder. “That’s okay. He’s allowed.”
“Why isn’t he into you?” Irene frowned. “You’re gorgeous. He totally has to be gay.”
Alex rolled her eyes. “Not every guy that isn’t into me is gay. What about you? Do you have anyone?”
“Nah. That would require a job where I don’t smell like corpse.” Irene made a face. “I love my job, I really do, but it just doesn’t work out with a lot of guys. The most I have is this PI who thinks it’s funny to put his yogurt in my bodily-fluids refrigerator and torture me.”
“Why the hell would he do that?” Alex blinked. “That’s ... that makes no sense.”
“Because he’s a pig?” Irene sighed. “He’s just a rumpled little PI who likes to bug me. He leans over open bodies with food in his hands.”
“I’ve done that too, to be fair. And I think I qualify as a rumpled little something or other. You’re always so mean to boys, Irene. It’s like fourth grade all over again.” Alex rolled her eyes.
“You’re not intolerable.” Irene had to laugh. “I’m mean to people who deserve it. Harry has no respect for the dead, no respect for my job and no respect for much of anything. He’s talked to my boobs too many times.”
“I wish someone would talk to mine, but I don’t have any.” Alex shrugged, swigging her beer. “But that’s okay, that’s what squats are for.”
“Your butt is kind of epic.” Irene shrugged. “At least it was when you came in here. Your job must have you running all over the damn state.”
“Sure feels like it,” Alex grinned. “It’s great having so much business. Well. Great for me, not so much for anyone else.” That meant that a lot of people were getting screwed.
“I get what you mean.” Irene nodded. “I feel the same way when my job gets busy. I don’t want to pick bodies out of every alley and corner in the county and LA.”
“Exactly. Unless the world’s going to hell, we don’t work. We’re like... moral garbage collectors,” Alex winced.
“And people wonder why I drink.” Irene held up her beer. “Also why I have a sick sense of humor.”
“We’ve got to,” Alex laughed. “Thank god my shrink gets it.” It was hard to not think about the shrink in sexy terms - he was hot, after all.
“Yeah?” Irene smirked a little. “What else is good about your hot Italian shrink with the sick sense of humor?”
“He’s huge?” Alex giggled, then covered her face with her hands. “Tall! He’s very ... tall.”
“Sure, that’s what you meant.” Irene snickered, shaking her head. “I hope he’s in proportion, for your sake!”
“God, me too. Not like it’ll go anywhere, but you know. For whoever he ends up with.” Alex shook her head. “It wouldn’t seem right.”
“Oh, you don’t know he’s not interested in you. You just immediately think so, because you think you’re some weird hybrid of woman and Undateable Undesirable Person.” Irene finished her beer and ordered one more.
“Well, yeah. I get that from Dad’s side,” Alex joked, tipping back her beer and ordering another one as well. Might as well make life easier on the bartender, right?
“Our family line has more confidence.” Irene looked down at herself. “I’m cute. I just have the unfortunate smell of floater clinging to my hair.”
“Febreeze,” Alex offered. “Or just shower after work.”
“It never quite gets it all.” Irene shook her head. “I’ll live. I’ll enjoy a sex life vicariously through you and your hot Italian shrink.”
Alex rolled her eyes. “Then be prepared to wait for eternity, Cuz.” She thanked the bartender for her refreshed beer, sipping contentedly.
“I still think you’re selling it too short. If not him, though, find another bounty hunter and have sex with him when he’s wearing nothing but a gun holster or something.” Okay, that sounded Harlequin-y, but she kind of needed to get laid.
“Riiiight. Because that’s not Fifty Shades of Stupid,” Alex huffed. “Look, I’ve been doing just fine with Bob, leave me alone, I’m going to just keep riding the batteries until I die.”
“You don’t even want to contemplate the possibility of finding a guy?” Irene raised an eyebrow.
“If it happens, awesome. If it doesn’t, whatever.” Alex shrugged her good shoulder and sighed.
“I guess that’s the best way to look at it. I should probably just pick up a guy in a bar.” Irene sighed.
“Ugh, don’t do that. What about the weird PI guy you know?” Alex leaned against the bar and smiled.
“You just answered your own question. He’s weird. And unattractive, incidentally.” Irene replied.
“Then why not have him thrown out? If he’s stalking you?” It was a salient question in Alex’s mind.
“He’s not stalking me, and he does have legitimate business there some of the time. He just goes about it annoyingly.”
Alex’s eyes went wide. “Oh my god, you totally like him!”
Irene’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you drunk?”
“After a beer and a half? No, you’re just in denial.” Alex grinned, poking her cousin in the side.
“Stop that. You are seriously delusional.” Irene groused.
“Seriously. Fourth grade. Remember little Bobby Shumaker? You tormented the hell out of that kid until he kissed you, and then bam. Gross wet makeouts every day.” Alex shook her head. “You’re such a sadist.”
“I do remember, and I was in fourth grade. It’s what you do when you’re eight.” Irene shook her head. “Seriously, Alex. Meet Harry. You’ll understand. He’s just an annoying little man.”
“And they need lovin’ too,” Alex quipped.
“I keep telling you to meet him. You’ll want to hurt him.” Irene sighed. “Why are you so keen on this?”
“Because I know you, and you’ll overlook sweethearts if they’re not hotties.” Alex shrugged. “I don’t want you to overlook happiness.”
“Do you really think I’m that shallow?” Irene couldn’t help but feel a little insulted. “Alex, when I tell you he irritates me, that’s not something I can ignore. Unless we’re talking business, he
doesn’t really listen to me, and that’s a problem.”
Alex held up her hands. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you outright disliked him. I thought you were just teasing. I’ll let it drop since I don’t know the guy, I’m sorry.”
“I don’t think he’s evil.” Irene sighed. “But like ... I don’t know. He won’t stop making sex jokes. He won’t stop staring at my chest. If I ever actually thought he could overpower me, alone in the morgue, I’d have had him thrown out ages ago. But he can’t, so I deal with it.” McGlade was just a part of the scenery now. “He’s just an irritating, weird part of the woodwork.”
“Ugh. You should tell him that shit so he’ll leave you alone.” Alex’s nose wrinkled. She understood more clearly now.
“I probably should sit him down.” Irene drank more beer. “I’m just tired. And crabby.”
“What’s wrong?” Alex crossed her legs and looked at her cousin. “You okay?”
“Just grumpy.” Irene shrugged. “I’ve been having some of those weird dreams lately. For the last little while.” She couldn’t help but wonder about the King of Bohemia. Who was he? Was he here? Could she have a prayer of finding him and keeping him this time around?
“What kind of weird dreams?” Alex blinked. “Naked in school?”
“No. People here in the OC tend to have really vivid dreams. I’m no exception.” Irene ordered one more beer. “Like, a friend of mine, an Irvine detective - she dreams that she fights off priests of Hell.”
Alex raised a brow. “Jesus fuck, what does she eat before bed?” It sounded kind of odd and irrational.
“I’d think it was craziness, but I also know a girl who dreams she’s a pirate. And a lady who dreams she works for the FBI.” Irene shrugged. “I dream that I’m the prima of the Imperial Opera of Warsaw.”
“Well, one of those is less improbable than the others.” Alex couldn’t help but chuckle. Irene was pretty competitive.
“Well, yeah, but this lady’s about the last you could think of that might work for the FBI.” Irene reached into her purse. She’d taken to carrying around the picture of her and the King of Bohemia ever since Elizabeth gave it back to her. “Look at this.” She handed it to Alex.
Alex shrugged, then looked at the photo of her cousin and a swarthy looking man. “Holy ... so wait, where did you get this?”
“It was under my pillow one morning.” Irene said softly. “That’s the King of Bohemia. Wilhelm is his name, and he came to see me in Warsaw. And began to ... pay court to me.”
“Of course he would, you look like a dish,” Irene murmured. She turned the photo over, looking at the quality of the paper. “I’d handle this with gloves from now on, lots of mercury was used in photo processing back then.”
“Good point.” Irene hadn’t known that. “But I mean, he’s good looking. Right? And in the dreams, he’s perfect.” Polite and thoughtful and intelligent and showering her with gifts and making her feel every inch a queen. And how in the hell was she supposed to give that up for dumpy, rude Harry McGlade?
“Ohhhh,” Alex murmured. She suddenly understood, and she reached out to squeeze Irene’s hand.
“I know it’s stupid. I don’t even know if the guy’s real.” But it was pretty damn hard to give up perfection for the average.
“Maybe you’ll dream more about him?” Alex wrapped an arm around Irene’s shoulders.
“Maybe. But I haven’t for a while. Not since I left the opera and moved to London.” Irene leaned into her cousin. “The last thing I dreamed was someone trying to break into my flat. Apartment. Whatever.”
“You’re English in your dreams? That explains so much.” Alex chuckled to herself, patting her cousin on the hand. “You’ve always liked tea a suspicious amount.”
“No, I’m still from Jersey, just live over there. But I admit to the tea thing. Harry does bring me tea sometimes. He’s not completely annoying.” Irene had to admit.
Alex didn’t say anything, just smiled at that. “I do kind of wish Ezio flirted with me. Just once. It’d be a kick.” She gave her cousin back that, just to keep things even.
Irene smiled. “Sorry, I know that’s a lot to hang on someone. About the dreams. I’m just used to it by now, I guess. Thank you for not making fun of me.”
“If you think it’s real, then it is. You wouldn’t jump in the front of a line to drink fucked up Kool-Aid,” Alex smiled. “You’re the sciencey one. I’m the weirdo who still reads her horoscope in the mornings.” Not that she believed in them, but she still did.
“The picture kind of proves it to me.” Irene shrugged. “There’s no other explanation.”
“Yeah. I’d have questioned it harder without that. But not much.” Alex trusted Irene more than anyone in the world, which wasn’t saying too much. Alex didn’t trust many people at all.
“I should probably get on home.” Irene shook her head. “I’m off tomorrow; I’m going to sleep a lot. I like sleeping.” Maybe she was a tiny bit tipsy.
“Sleeping’s pretty awesome. Want me to call you a cab?” Alex didn’t get drunk very often, due to tolerance, but she still wasn’t about to drive after two beers. She’d walk around for an hour, maybe play some gimpy pool.
“Better be on the safe side. Not drunk, but not sober.” Irene had had three, and she was on the small side. She smiled a little. “Don’t be a stranger, though, huh?”
Alex had a cab app on her phone, and she whipped it out, ever prepared. “I’ll bring you lunch on a slow day for you. Just call me, yeah? I’m between collars right now.”
“Definitely. I still think you should meet Harry. Just so you can say you have.” Irene smirked.
“Sure, hook it up,” Alex grinned. She kissed Irene on the cheek. “Your cab’ll be here in ten, and I paid for it. Don’t you tell me now, I’m older than you.”
“Thanks, honey.” Irene hugged her cousin. “Glad you’re back in town.”