Anders (crazycatman) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-02-16 23:29:00 |
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Entry tags: | anders, tinkerbell |
Who: Tinkerbell and Anders
What: Anders takes Tink out for drinks after finding out the Old Man has passed. They play pool and get drunk.
When: February 14th
Where: Starting at Tink’s place, then to a pool hall.
Rating/Warnings: Low
Status: Complete (when posted!)
Anders was a little nervous for meeting Tink after work. Mostly because he hadn’t actually hung out with anyone at all in about a year, since he had moved to Orange County from Germany. He had drank in the time, though most of that was getting drunk by himself (with Sir Pounce-A-Lot looking on, of course) when he had first moved. That had petered off in the last few months though.
As such, he spent an inordinate amount of time picking out what to wear. He realized it was Valentine’s Day, so he didn’t want to dress too nicely in case she thought that he was being a creep and trying to pick her up right after someone she had been close to had died. Especially since he really wasn’t looking to be in a relationship right now. Or ever again, really. Eventually, he settled on an old Casualties t-shirt, and a pair of ripped up jeans. Then, in his ‘95 Cavalier, he went to pick her up. Once he was outside, he sent her a text to let her know.
Tink had quite the Valentine’s Day today. And not in a good way. There was the four am wake-up call, the sad news, some uncontrollable sobbing, then a period of eerie calm as she made some coffee, put on the tv, went through the motions of preparing for the day. She didn’t think to pop on Valarnet, she didn’t want to have to put into words what had happened. Then the desire for chocolate drove her out of the house to the bakery.
And Doctor Anders. Who’d stitched up her wings. He was handsome and kind, and asked her out for a drink. Drink. Capital D. Tink was planning on drinking. A lot. Maybe she could drink to forget. (It was probably the world’s second stupidest idea to drink with a near stranger--the first being following him into a building where he locked the door behind them--but Tink had done her research. She’d google’d the guy. She felt relatively safe. And she had her taser.)
The text came in, Tink grabbed her jacket, and headed out to meet him. Black leather. It had slits sewn in for her wings. Black jean pants. Black converse. Her hair was thrown into a sloppy bun thing, and she wasn’t wearing make-up. (She never did, anyway.) She was in mourning.
“Nice jacket,” Anders said when she got into the car. Then he cleared his throat a little uneasily. “So, I’m going to admit right now that I don’t really get out that much, so I don’t really know what kind of bars are around. I googled a couple of place nearby that we can go to, but if you have a preference or a favourite bar or something then we can definitely go there.”
Tink climbed into the car and pulled the seat belt on. She was feeling this weird combination of knowing that what she was doing (getting into a car with a near-stranger, even though he was a doctor) was ill-advised, but being unusually comfortable about the whole thing. Maybe it was the numbness she was fighting off due to the tragedy, the injury, the not feeling herself, or maybe it was something about him that made her comfortable this way. Maybe some combination of the two. But Tink felt tired. She was too tired and sad to be awkward. Was this what depression felt like?
She gave him a gentle ‘thank you,’ then chewed on the inside of her lip for a moment. “Well, if it helps, I don’t go out at all, either. So anywhere is fine with me.” The brightness in her that may have shone through in their first meeting was almost completely gone now.
Anders looked at her with concern. This certainly wasn’t the same Tink he had met before. He didn’t really know her well enough to offer real comfort. Still, he had consoled a number of people in the past; it came with the job. “I know nothing I can say will change it. I am sorry,” he said. He began driving toward the pub that he had read about. It had some pretty good yelp reviews at the very least. “I didn’t know him,” he barely knew Tink, if he was completely honest, “But you were lucky to have each other. When the pain fades, that will be what matters.”
Tink nodded. She was probably the only person in the Old Man’s life that could stand him. She wouldn’t let him push her around. She loved him, really, and she knew that he loved her, too. Not in that way, but in the ‘he’s my crotchety, old uncle,’ way. He gave her her start, and she’d learned a lot from him. It was almost like losing a parent, though she couldn’t really imagine how horrible that would be.
“Thanks,” she said, giving him something of a smile. Forced, but she was trying. She didn’t want to be too much of a downer on an already down kind of day. “I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do without him.”
Anders shot her a soft smile in return. “You’ll figure it out,” he said. “Maybe not right away, and it may be hard while you work on getting there, but itwill happen.” Then, because he figured that being cheerful was at least a little bit contagious, he grinned. He wasn’t expecting her to be chipper, but if at some point in the night he could get one genuine smile from her, he would be pleased. “For now though, we get rip-roaringly drunk. On a doctor’s salary.” Maybe Anders didn’t have an actual doctor’s salary, since he only actually did paid work two days a week, but in those two days he made more than enough to cover the rent for his tiny apartment and his food, and since he never really went out, he had a lot of money saved up.
His smile, his words, the pain that was so sharp this morning during the sobbing attack she got when she first heard the news, came back a bit because he was being so kind. So supportive. She felt comfortable, safe, and almost broke down. Almost. Her nose was burning like she might cry again. Ugh.
And she gave a little chuckle. Lifting a hand to wipe under her eye. No tears. “That sounds good to me. Much better than getting rip-roaringly drunk on an unemployed mechanic’s salary.” She’d put a lot of money into the patenting of her inventions, and was living quite modestly at the moment.
He caught her rubbing her eyes from the corner of his eye, and glanced over just to make sure that she wasn’t actually crying, and when she chuckled, he smiled to himself. The pub he had chosen was fairly close, and had billiard tables. He wasn’t sure if Tink enjoyed playing pool, but he figured it if she did, it would probably be a good idea to have something to do while they were drinking.
“Tonight,” Anders said, pulling into the parking lot of the bar, “your unemployed mechanic’s salary doesn’t need to be touched. You can eat and drink as much as you would like.” He got out of his car, and, to be a gentleman, attempted to get to the passenger door before she opened it herself.
Tink had just put a hand on the latch when Anders popped around the car and opened her door. Another example of a fairy blushing met him as she pulled herself up from her seat. “Thanks,” she said, softly. She kinda felt like she’d won the lottery in meeting random strangers.
Tink had never been to this place before. She glanced up and around the building, still feeling sad, but at least something was distracting her a bit now. She followed him into the pub and glanced at the billiard tables. She wasn’t great, but she could play. But first she wanted something to warm her tummy.
“Milady,” he said when he opened the door, and was extra pleased when he saw her blush. He did enjoy making pretty girls blush.
“What’s your poison?” Anders asked, grabbing a table. He glanced over the drink menu that was on the table. He did like beer, but not American beer. After drinking German beer exclusively for the last thirteen years, he couldn’t get over the fact that American beer was nothing more than lightly flavoured piss water. He didn’t see any good German beers on the menu. That was a pity.
“Something strong,” Tink admitted, almost sheepishly. Almost. She wasn’t really embarrassed about how drunk she wanted to get. She thought the sadness would go away, or at least be numbed, by the drink. The alcohol. Hopefully she was right in her assumptions that Anders was safe, and that he wasn’t going to … y’know. Do any of those horrible horrible things that bad men did to drunk girls.
When the server came by and handed them menus, Anders ordered two double rye and cokes. Tink seemed like the type of girl who wouldn’t hate a good stiff drink. “This is my first time in an American bar,” Anders admitted, looking around. “I mean, I’m sure it’s not too different from German bars, but still. I’m glad I got to come here with a friend though.” Well, he certainly hoped that they were friends. He considered her a friend.
“Have you eaten yet? I was thinking of ordering some nachos, but if you wanted a real meal it looks like they have some stuff on the menu.”
They were definitely friends now. Maybe? Probably. Tink needed more friends in her life, and Anders had been a good one thus far. She would be honored to call him one.
"You had me at nachos," Tink admitted, breaking into a small smile. Very small, but genuine. She definitely wasn't a girl who minded a stiff drink, though she was likely going to make funny faces with each sip until it started kicking in.
Success! Anders mentally patted himself on the back for getting her to smile, no matter how small of a smile it was. He broke into a grin.
“You mentioned you had brothers?” he asked her. “And a sister? What are they like? Anywhere near as cool as you?” He enjoyed asking people about their families. He didn’t have one himself, so it was always nice to live vicariously through someone else. Sometimes, he heard terrible stories that made him glad he didn’t have a family to call his own, but most of the time they were good stories. Even if sometimes they made his heart ache (less so when he was living in Germany and found a group of friends he considered his family. He had abandoned them with hardly a good-bye when he came back to America though. He missed them sometimes), the good family stories were his favourites.
When the server came back with the drinks, he removed the straw from his and put it on the table. Unless he was drinking milkshakes, smoothies, or daiquiris, he refused to drink with a straw. “What should we cheers to?”
Tink nodded, folding her hands and lacing her fingers together. "I have two brothers. My parents adopted them before I was born. And then my friend Peri and I realized that our..." She cut off. That was Peri's secret to tell, not hers. "Anyway, um, I have a sister I never knew about."
She sat up a little when the drinks arrived. Tink was unopposed to drinking from a straw. She lifted the glass as if to clink it against his. "To getting me drunk enough to forget my sorrow." Clink.
Anders took the awkward cut off to assume that Tink and her sister were half sisters. Perhaps a little indiscretion on the part of their parents. He wouldn't pry if Tink didn't want to talk about it, but still... "You were already friends when you found out? Well, that's a bonus. There's the saying that you can choose your friends but you can't choose your family, but it sounds like you got the best of both worlds there."
He could certainly cheers to that. "To drunkenness!" he said jovially, and took a large gulp of his drink.
He was not expecting it to be as strong as it was, and much to his chagrin, he grimaced when it went down. So much for being the paragon of manliness.
Tink would likely talk about it later, if she was drunk enough. And if it came up again. It was a really interesting story, when it all came down to it. No infidelity involved, but the mix-up of fertilized eggs at a clinic. But that's for later.
"I definitely got the best of both worlds." Thinking about Peri made her smile, too. Being reminded how lucky she was was good for her, Tink supposed. And she would have to make a note to thank Anders for his kindness. Again.
They sipped. It was really strong. Tink took hers through the straw, so she was able to gulp before the flavor really hit her. Then she winced, shuddered more like, and made a funny sound.
Anders was really killing it at this cheering Tink up thing. He had almost forgotten how much he enjoyed actually being around people. He was a bit of a lone wolf, and tended to keep a lot of things to himself. He was facetious and sarcastic, which tended to put people off. But he was never happier than when he found people who enjoyed his company.
He had to laugh at the sound that Tink made after she took her drink. It was only a short bark of a laugh, and then he cleared his throat and stifled the rest of it. “Sorry, sorry,” he said, taking another, smaller, sip of his drink. “That was adorable.”
He gestured toward the pool table. “Do you play? We might be able to get game in before the nachos arrive.”
The great thing about strong drinks was that they started working on Tink pretty much right away. The girl wasn’t all that large, and she hadn’t had a whole lot to eat today, so it wasn’t going to take much of Anders’ doctor salary to get her smashed. She went even more pink when he laughed, and reached over to playfully swat at his arm. “No laughing at me! You’re not allowed!” Though, she was obviously amused by the playfully indignant gape on her face.
Then she sipped again. One large gulp that made her shudder and make another, similar, sound. This time she even stuck her tongue out. Then she smacked her lips a bit and turned to look at the billiard table. “I can try.” She offered up. “...you just have to promise not to judge me when I knock the wrong colored ball into the wrong pocket.”
He held up his hands in mock surrender when she smacked his arm. “Okay, okay, no laughing,” he said, but the fact that he was still quietly chuckling negated his words. He had not expected her to be such a light weight, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain. He’d just have to drink quicker to stay on pace with her. He braced himself, and downed the rest of the drink. Despite bracing himself, he grimaced again, and let out a quiet “ugh.” He hoped she didn’t notice.
“Would you like another?” he asked, waving down the server again for another drink.
He headed over to the table, and put in some change to get the balls. “Judge you?” he said, smiling. “Oh no, I will be thanking you for any help you give me.” He wasn’t a great pool player. He wasn’t a poor one, but he was on the lower end of average - the type of skills one got from playing pool once every month or two. “Your break.”
Oh, she noticed. And his little ‘ugh’ was adorable. He was really good at distracting her from her troubles, keeping her mind off the sadness. Her stomach was warming quickly. “Yeah,” she responded, nodding, wearing a little smile. Two of these were probably gonna do her in, really, but she absolutely wanted that second one. ...possibly a third.
Then she followed him across the room to the billiard table. It was Valentine’s Day, and a pub wasn’t exactly the most romantic of date destinations, so the place was thankfully not very full. They didn’t have to wait for a table, and weren’t bumping into their neighbors. Tink set her drink down (after another big gulp, shudder and ‘grrrrugh’ sound afterward) and started setting up the triangular rack and filling the different colored balls inside.
“You sure you don’t want to break?” Tink may have been a bit of a pool shark.
Anders ordered another two drinks, and watched her rack up.
“Well, if you insist,” Anders said. If there was one thing in pool he did exceptionally well, it was break, which showed now. The balls spread across the table, and he even managed to sink one of the solids. He lined up his next shot. “So, Miss Tink, what do you like to do in your free time?” And he missed.
“I don’t have much free time,” Tink explained, leaning against her pool cue (standing vertically, so she could lean against it) as she watched him and sipped from her drink. Through the straw. It wasn’t tasting as strong now, though she did give another little shudder.
“I spend all day working, inventing, or sleeping.” She admitted, then set down her drink so she could take a shot. And sink a ball. One of the striped ones. “And you?” She asked, suddenly smirking.
“Nice shot,” he said. Well, at least it looked like she sort of knew what she was doing. He would have been disappointed if she couldn’t play at all. He wasn’t entirely sure if he trusted that smirk though.
“I work 75 hours a week,” he admitted. “I don’t have much in the way of free time. It’s usually spent watching TV and taking Sir Pounce-a-lot for walks.” His next drink came, and again he discarded the straw. He took another sip. “Wait, did you say inventing?”
So, maybe he was going to figure out that Tink was pretty good at this game. She held her own against her brothers, and that was saying something. They may have been the most nerdy guys on the planet, but that meant they had time to work on their game.
“Thanks,” Tink said. Though she didn’t sink the next one. Not a scratch, though, either. She moved back over to finish the last of her drink, just as the bartender brought out the new ones. She moved her straw into the new drink, and now she had two! Woot!
“...yes.” She said, after a sip. This one had less of a wince than any of the others in front of it. She set the glass back down. Now she was warm and feeling no pain. “I’m an inventor. Well, when I’m not a mechanic.”
Anders gave a low whistle. “Well lady, you just keep getting better, don’t you?” His shot was lined up pretty nicely, and he sunk it no problem. The next shot looked a little more complicated, but he took the shot and managed to sink the ball as well. He tried not to let the surprise of sinking the ball show on his face.
“What kind of things do you invent?” He was doing pretty well. One of her balls was in the way of his, so he decided he was going to jump the ball. He was shooting pretty well tonight, and once in a while he was able to sink the balls when he jumped it. Besides, how could he resist showing off for a pretty lady. He took a big gulp from his drink, and gave her a cocky smile - on one hand, if he sunk it, he would look amazing. If, which was more likely, he missed, he’d probably get her to laugh. He took the shot with just a touch too much power, and the white ball went flying off the table.
“Oh, knickerweasles,” he cursed. He had not expected that to be so embarrassing.
“Just keep getting better?” Tink repeated as a question, though she blushed deeply at what it might imply. It felt like a compliment, though she wasn’t sure exactly what it meant. “Better at what?”
And she picked up her drink again to gulp while he shot. She was starting to get impressed herself when the cue ball went flying off the table. That made her laugh. It was a happy, twinkling sound, fit for a fairy.
His curse was even better. Absolutely adorable and funny and… okay, she was tipsy now. She nearly doubled over with good-natured giggles. “Knick--knick--” she repeated. That may have been the funniest part. “What is that?”
"Well," Anders said. "You're pretty cool, and sweet, and be-" he stopped himself. That sounded an awful lot like he was hitting on her, and that was just a terrible idea, really. He was beginning to realize that maybe he was starting to feel the effects of his alcohol. He took another gulp. "And now I find out you're apparently really smart, too. So, someone I'd like to be friends with."
He actually blushed a little when she started laughing, and blushed harder when she commented on his curse. He had to get creative with his cursing as a teenager when he lived in the orphanage, as the nuns typically did not approve of actual swearing, and that was one that had stuck around through his years. His friends in Germany had gotten used to it and had stopped commenting on it a few years ago. He went to fetch the ball.
"Well, you know... You've got knickers, like underwear, and weasels like... Like the animal. It's," now that he thought about it, he couldn't think of what exactly it meant. "it's just a bunch of nonsense, really," he finished. "Give me a break," he said, his voice lighthearted enough that Tink would know he was only pretending to be angry, "I thought of it when I was fifteen."
At least if he had to be humiliated it was in front of a pretty girl with a beautiful laugh.
Tink was blushing, even through the laugh. It felt good to have someone appreciate her. Not that her other friends didn’t, but she’d been having such a shitty day. Anders was handsome, and kind, and said really funny things. And it was Valentine’s Day, and she wanted to spend it with a friend. Definitely not on her own.
“Good. Because we’re friends.” Tink said. There was a twinkle in her eye. It was back, even if it was a little dimmer than before.
The laughter subsided. “Knickerweasles, huh?” She asked, and gave a sigh. Her stomach hurt a little from the giggles. Yeah, she was definitely tipsy now. She gulped again. She had a little ways to go before she was smashed, though. “It sounds like something a fifteen year old would say,” she teased, playfully, then moved to pick up the cue ball from the floor. She placed it on the table and took her shot. She sunk two balls without talking, then missed her third shot.
He was glad to see that Tink was starting to seem more like her old self - well, at least, the self that he had met in the park. He had been worried when he had picked her up and she had seemed, well, dimmer than before, for a lack of a better word.
“You haven’t sunk a single one of my balls,” Anders said, a slight, playful whine to his voice. “I was really counting on you helping me out.”
He missed his next shot, but he wasn’t too disappointed about it, because that’s when the nachos came out. It was a pretty large mound of chips, cheese, tomatoes, jalapenos, onions and olives. Definitely more than he had thought it would be when he ordered it. It was glorious. Oh thank Christ. He could definitely use a little food in him to keep himself from getting too drunk. He made a beeline for the plate, and grabbed a nice, cheesey grouping of chips. “Oh, thank God for whoever invented nachos,” he said, dipping the chips in the sour cream and salsa. He washed it down with another large swig of his drink. He was going to need another one soon.
And maybe… “Shots?”
“It was some guy named Ignacio, from what I understand.” Tink was right there beside him, hungrily greedily scooping up chips with cheese and jalapenos to shovel into her mouth. She gave a little groan that was almost obscene at the taste, the crunch. Then sighed as she chewed. “I love nachos.”
Her drink wasn’t as close to being empty as his was, and she was possibly probably quite a bit more tipsy than her friend. But Tink nodded, excitedly. “Shots! Definitely. Every time I sink a ball, you take a shot.” She added, pointing to the game. “And vice versa.”
That wouldn’t kill them, right?
Anders looked at the table. Well, they were tied. He probably wouldn’t be at too much of a disadvantage. Maybe he’d pass on ordering another drink, if this was the case. He flagged down the server. “Five shots of Jager, please,” he ordered. “And five shots of whatever the lady would like.” He paused. “And a large glass of water, if you’d be so kind.”
He turned to her and grinned. “Loser has to drink the remainder of the winner’s shots at the end?”
He could do this. All he had to do was not lose. He ate some more chips, downed the rest of his drink, and hoped that Tink also missed.
“Same for me,” Tink said. She’d just follow his lead. Of course, Jager was kinda gross, but who cares? She could have been drinking rocket fuel at the moment and it wouldn’t bother her too much. Another gulp and she was down to the ice in her drink. It was easier with the straw.
And nachos were effing heavenly. Tink took another bite, then dusted her hands on her jeans as she took a lap of the table, trying to find her next shot. “Is it hot in here, or is it just me?” She asked, and peeled off her leather jacket. Then she lined up a shot and took it. Sunk one.
“I think it’s just you,” Anders said with a wink. The server came back with the shots, and Anders took his off from the tray before she could even set them down. For her credit, she attempted to mask the annoyed look. He wondered vaguely what she was thinking, needing to work on Valentine’s Day and then being stuck serving these two drunk clowns.
He was definitely starting to feel the buzz. The vaguely responsible part of him scolded him and told him that he was volunteering at the clinic in the morning. So, he decided to text one of the nurses before he got too drunk to text coherently that he wouldn’t be in until that afternoon. He hoped he wasn’t going to be hungover.
WAIT. Was he flirting? Was that a flirtation thing? Tink blinked at the wink, feeling her cheeks burn, but God, she had no idea. Maybe she was the only one that was actually, physically hot in the room. Maybe he was saying she was the other kind of hot. He’d winked, sure, but… Goodness. This was too much for a little fairy’s drunken mind.
Speaking of fairy, her wings were quite obvious now without her jacket on. She was wearing a Wil Wheaton t-shirt design in a baby doll cut. It was a flattering shirt, and she’d cut slits in the back so that her wings could be free. There were still stitches on one of her wings, holding it together.
She sunk the next ball, but missed the third. “That’s two down.” She said, proudly, leaning against her stick again.
Anders was definitely flirting. He was glad to see her blush again. She really was cute when she did. He tried not to look too appreciatively at her once she took her jacket off, but his eyes still lingered. When she sunk the second ball, he shoot his head and frowned, then took his other shot. What had he gotten himself into?
He slung his cue over his shoulders, letting his arms rest over the sides as he surveyed the table. Well, at least he had one easy shot lined up. He took it, and sunk the ball.
“Score one of our hero,” he sang when it went in.
He took his next shot. It looked easy enough, and he did sink a ball with it. It was too bad that it was the cue ball that went into the pocket. “Knickerweasles,” he muttered quietly. He pulled up the ball for Tink.
A deal’s a deal. Tink downed her shot, and actually gave one of those shuddergroanbllerghh sounds. The rye and Coke was strong, but that Jager stuff was licorice. She stuck out her tongue and shook her head from side to side. Then she accepted the cue ball.
“I’m really starting to like this knickerweasles,” she commented, then set the cue ball down on the table. “It’s cute like you.” Okay, so maybe ‘cute’ isn’t what grown men liked to be called. Tink was terrible at this flirting business. And the alcohol coursing through her made it much worse.
It was also affecting her game play. She shot and missed.
Anders liked being called cute. He was fricken adorable, and he knew it. “Thank you,” he said, smiling at her. “If you start using it, we’ll be two cuties saying cute things. And that’s twice as cute. Cute squared.” Smooth, Anders. Real smooth.
He looked at the table, and not seeing anything particularly obvious, he took a shot. Somehow, he managed to sink two of his balls. “Holy shit!” he exclaimed, and looked at Tink, pointing at the table. “Did you see that? I hope you did.” Then he paused to smirk at her. “Drink up, Buttercup.”
He only had one ball and the eight ball left. He might just win this thing. He was all but preening when he took his next shot, and hit absolutely none of the balls on the table.
Tink was smirking because there weren’t any good shots. And yet… somehow he managed to sink TWO of his balls. (heh.) Tink was amazed. “Oh, man,” she said, biting back the ‘oh fuck me’ that longed to escape in her drunkeness. She downed one shot, shuddered, then downed the other, and grabbed his water to chase it. It didn’t help much with the flavor. And now Tink was really feeling it.
“...Man. You’re gonna win, and I’m gonna black out.” She said, grinning, and took her next shot. She missed, as the room was spinning a little now.
Well, she certainly wasn’t playing as well as she had been before, he could tell. He frowned to himself. He might need to call a break for them soon, but for now, he was happy to keep playing.
Before he took his next turn though, he grabbed another handful of nachos and crammed it in his mouth. “Mmm, nachos. Where have you been all my life?” he murmured seductively to the plate. He turned to Tink. “These are possibly the best nachos I have ever eaten.” There was a good chance that they weren’t, but he hadn’t had nachos in nearly a year.
“How are you feeling?” he asked her when he did get up to take another shot. He found himself hankering for a cigarette. He still had a full pack, sans one, that he had bought the week before sitting in his glovebox. He really hated smoking, but it really hit the spot when he was drunk. He’d resist it for now though.
He took his shot, and sunk his ball. Just the eight ball left now.
Tink moved back over to the nachos after he mentioned them, and started to dig in, too. “I know, right?” She agreed, grinning. All of her worries were gone now. Good company (that made her heart flutter a little) good drinks and good nachos… though, she was absolutely going to lose this game of pool. And the liquor was kicking in in full force now. At least she was a happy drunk.
“I’m good. Really good. Wondering if you and I are gonna be able to finish these nachos by ourselves, or if we’re gonna need a doggy bag. Heh. Doggy bag. Where do these weird things… you know when something’s named something weird? How does it get that name, you know?” ...now she was babbling. She moved to the table to watch him shoot. Then whispered a curse--the word fuck sounding completely foreign coming out of her lips--and took her next shot. She turned the glass upside down and set it with its brethren.
“Last shot. Are you gonna make it?” She asked. “No pressure.” Grin.
“I think doggy bags are named as such so that people can take food home to their dogs. Or something.” Anders didn’t hate dogs, but he did think they were awfully smelly creatures. And slobbery. The place in his dream had smelled a little like dog.
He shook his head. He didn’t think that people could smell in dreams. Weird.
He tried to stop the corner of his mouth from turning up when she sword. That was adorable too. Why was this girl so unbelievably cute? It wasn’t fair.
“Right. No pressure,” he repeated, in a tone of voice that implied that now that she had said that, he now had a lot of pressure. That was probably her diabolical plan. He side-eyed her, before he lined up his shot. Took a deep breath. Focused.
He made his shot. And the eight ball went into the pocket. “Yipp-” he started, but the cry of elation died on his lips when he watched, with horror, the cue ball go toward the corner pocket. “No, no nonono,” he muttered, and then watched as it fell, almost in slow motion, into the pocket. “No!”
Dramatically, he fell to his knees. He had been so close.
If his muttering and fall to his knees was dramatic, it was nothing compared to the evil cackle that escaped Tink. She brought both fists up into the air in triumph, and gave a whoop, and a “Yes!” before lifting up off the ground just slightly. Her wings were up, fluttering, and releasing a gentle rain of pixie dust onto the floor.
She pointed to him, then to the shots remaining on the table. It was a good thing he had the rest, too, because that much alcohol was sure to make her pass out. She was feeling drunk, high, almost, with the room spinning and her speech a little slurred. She was warm, and happy, and did her best to land. Her wing was feeling no pain.
“Rules are rules, bucko,” she said, beaming brightly.
Anders watched her jump up, and couldn’t help but laugh from his position on his knees. Then, he gave a mock defeated sigh, and stood up. Or attempted to. He got about half way up before he fell on his ass. He gave a surprised blink, and then scootched a little closer to the table so he could help himself up with that.
Once he was up, he headed to the table and took a long look at the shots. Well. Rules were rules. He took a deep breath, and then very quickly pounded all four back with barely a breath between them. Pause. He grabbed his glass of water and took a couple of long pulls from it. He truly did love Jager. There was just… so much of it.
“Why does this sort of thing always happen to me?” he slurred. His tone of voice was kind of whiny, but his eyes were dancing and he was grinning.
When he fell down, Tink jumped in concern. (Or, well, she would have if her feet were on the floor. They were only sometimes on the floor, now, as her wings fluttered behind her. She touched down every couple of seconds, finding it a little hard to control her flight being as drunk as she was.) But then she laughed when she saw he was all right, and realized that she had to pee. Really bad.
“That’s what you get when you invite a fairy out for drinks,” she said with a playful sigh. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” She didn’t want to just out and say ‘I have to pee’ or ‘I have to go to the bathroom.’ She had to ask the barman where it was, and it took her a couple extra minutes to find it, do her business, and come back. She was DRUNK now. Nearly stumbling, holding onto tables and chairs, bumping into things. But she was smiling.
Oh, peeing, that seemed like a good idea. When she took off for the bathroom, he went to do the same. He could also really go for a cigarette, though he should probably let Tink know before he wandered off to do that. He finished his business before she did, and returned to the table. He was drunker than he had been in some time, and it was a good drunk. He was happy. He was having a great time. This was great. He only walked into one table on his way back to their table, and for the most part he was pretty steady on his feet.
When he saw Tink stumbling back from the bathroom, he went to meet her half-way, and moved to steady her by putting an arm around her waist. “Did you want to call it a night, Tink?” he asked. “I’m not sure how much more either one of us can handle.”
“Yeah.” Tink said, more than willing to let him help hold her upright. Actually, she was thankful for the support. She really didn’t want to bump into any more tables or chairs. Or people. Though she was a very happy drunk, she was on the verge of feeling embarrassed about how drunk she really was. It’d been a while since she’d been this far gone.
She leaned against him as they moved together back to grab her jacket. “You are a very, very wise man, Doctor Anders.”
A short, cynical laugh escaped his throat when she called him wise. “I don’t know if I would go that far,” he said.
When they got to the table, he reluctantly let his arm leave her waist. “You hang tight here. I’ll go pay our bill and get them to call us a cab.”
He took a couple of steps away, and then turned toward her again. “Well, not us,” he said. “I mean, I’ll make sure that you get home safely and then I’ll take it home.” He didn’t want her to get the wrong idea about his intentions. He might have been drunk, and maybe a significant part of him wanted more, but he still knew that him pursuing anything with anyone was A Very Bad Idea.
Then he stumbled toward the bar, running into a chair on his way there. He paid the tab, and asked the server to call them a cab. He nearly forgot to tip - it wasn’t really a thing that people did in Germany - but remembered last minute and gave the server a very large tip.
Then, he headed back to the table. “Would you like to wait outside?”
Tink wasn’t really thinking about it that way. ‘Call us a cab’ didn’t translate in her mind into the two of them going home together. Tink wasn’t hardwired to think that way. (Though, that wasn’t to say it hadn’t crossed her mind. He was handsome and kind, and Tink… well, she liked him. Or was that the alcohol?)
Tink had her jacket on by the time he came back over to the table. She’d nodded when he corrected himself, and then pulled her sleeves up onto her arms in a way that only a drunk person can stumble around with. Thankfully, there was a chair. So she sat. She debated for a moment pulling out her phone and checking it, but decided against it. Then he was back. She stood up quickly, blushing a bit, and moved to join him once more. The night air would hopefully be sobering. And feel good. Her cheeks were burning.
“Yeah, good idea.” She looped an arm through his so he could lead them out. Hopefully he could lead them out. A part of her felt like she was actually getting drunker by the minute.
Anders made sure to have a firm grip on her arm as he led them out. He was stumbling more than he thought he would, and walked into a couple more tables on the way out, but he was careful to steer her around any obstacles so that she herself didn’t run into anything. He may not have been entirely steady on his feet, but he suspected that she was even less so. Still, he found himself glad that he had a grip on her arm, because it helped him steady himself as well. The blind leading the blind, or, in this case, the drunk leading the drunker.
Once they got outside, he headed to his car, opened the passenger side, and pulled out his still mostly full pack of cigarettes from the glovebox. He didn’t think to ask if she minded, but once he lit his smoke he was careful to blow the smoke away from her.
“Nice nice out,” he muttered. Then thought about what he said. “Night. Nice night.” He down into her face, and smiled at her. “I had a really nice time tonight. I hope you did too.”
His suspicions were mostly correct. He was a rock compared to how Tink was teetering. She didn’t mind it too much. That’d been the point, right? Get her smashed to forget her problems? Once they were out in the cool, night air, she felt the weight of it again. The Old Man was dead. She was jobless. Ugh. It made parts of her twist inside that she didn’t like to think about.
She followed him to his car and leaned against it while he smoked. When he spoke, she turned to look at him, and caught his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s good. I mean, I had a good time. Nice time. Whatever.” She was smiling softly. A little sadly, but genuinely.
Oh no, she looked sad again. He was pretty drunk, so he made sure to think through his words before he actually said them. “If you ever need to talk about any of this, I’m happy to listen. I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener. I know that none of this can be particularly easy.”
It really wasn’t easy. None of it was easy. She’d really had a shit time of it the past few months, and honestly, she didn’t want to talk about it. Any of it. She didn’t want to think about the stitches in her wing, or the Old Man, or any of the other crap she’d been dealing with lately.
All she really wanted was a hug.
“It’s okay. You’ve done so much for me, anyway. I’ll be all right.” She forced the smile a bit wider. “I’m just… glad I’m not alone on Valentine’s Day.” ...not that she put much stock into the Hallmark Holiday, but still.
“The offer’s out there, if you change your mind,” he said. “I’m glad I’m not alone on Valentine’s Day either.” And, since he didn’t really know what else to do, he went to place his hand on her head to ruffle her hair.
Tink gave a little laugh, then reached a hand up to push his away from her head. She gave a playful sputter at him, and was about to respond when the cab rolled up. Good. There were few things in this world she wanted more than to crawl into her own bed and fall asleep warm in her own sheets.
Except maybe that hug.
Anders went to the cab and opened the door for her. He thought for a minute as she walked past him into the cab, and before she started getting in, he said, “Hey Tink?” When she looked at him, he pulled her into a tight bear hug. Maybe he didn’t know her that well, and he was overstepping his bounds, but he felt like everyone deserved a hug when things sucked. Then, they got into the cab, and headed home.