Who: Carly & Tifa What: Carly's drinking. When: A little while ago. Where: The Inferno Club. Rating/Warnings: PG-13ish. Light mentions of sex, references potential drinking problem. Status: Complete!
It was one of those rare times Carly caught a shift that ended at night instead of in the morning. She’d taken someone else’s usual rotation. And it had been one of the worst shifts she’d worked all month. So when it was over, she’d headed out, straight to her favorite bar.
Well, she said favorite. Really, it was just close enough to her apartment she could usually manage to make it home by herself.
Judging by some of the looks she was getting, not everyone had forgotten her last visit just yet. She could guess what they were thinking. She tried to ignore them as she took a seat at the bar. Maybe she should stick to beer tonight.
Tifa had been tending bar long enough to know when a regular was drinking too much, and she took a personal interest in at least ensuring they didn’t fuck themselves up on her watch.
And then there were the ones that she had to bodily throw out on occasion.
And Carly was both kinds of customers.
She poured Carly a shot of tequila and slid it across the bar. “Less bruising on your face than I expected.”
And there went her plan to stick to beer. She could have objected. She started to, really, but her objection shifted into a resigned breath as she accepted the shot with a wry smile.
“You know I could have taken her. Besides, she had it coming.” Carly threw back her shot and risked a glance around the room. She didn’t see the woman she’d taken a swing at. That was probably for the best. She’d held her own, but she wasn’t looking for a rematch.
“If you want my honest opinion,” Tifa said, with all the air of someone who was going to offer it anyway. She leaned back, folding her arms. “You kind of had it coming too. But that’s usually how most bar fights start. I’ve been in one or two myself.”
Carly leveled a look in her direction and slid the shot glass back toward her across the bar. “Yeah, well, I don’t like taking shit from people who think they’re better than me.”
Not that she hadn’t been running on more alcohol than reason that night.
“Maybe just a beer.” It was the subtlest acknowledgement that maybe she should ease up a little. Besides, she had an early shift tomorrow.
Tifa shook her head, setting the tequila aside for later. “You could, you know, prove it in other ways, but what do I know? I’m just a bartender.”
She knew how to hit where it hurt. Some days, Carly felt like all she was doing was trying to prove herself. To her boss, her partner, people in the coffee shop.
And okay, starting bar fights probably wasn’t the best way to do that. But sometimes she got so tired of the way people looked down on her, like they had when she was a kid and she couldn’t do anything about it.
“Yeah, what do you know? You don’t know anything about me.”
“No, I don’t know anything about you, but I have observed you. It comes with the territory.” Tifa leaned forward on the bar, resting her elbows on the wood and her chin on her hands. “You’re a ball of anger and you’re in here often enough I’m concerned about your liver.”
“My liver is fine. Probably.” Carly studied her with something between confusion and suspicion, clearly still on the defensive. “Why do you care anyway?”
“If you died on me I’d have to fill out a lot of paperwork.” Tifa shook her head, favoring Carly with a soft smile. “But I’m mostly the kind of person that likes to watch out for people. Especially regulars.”
“Oh, well, if it’s about the paperwork.” Carly entirely ignored any indication that Tifa might have real concern for her. “Is that what I am now? A regular?”
She supposed that was fair. She did spend more of her free time here than not these days. “Have you always been this interested in my business?”
“You’ve been here nearly every night for months,” Tifa pointed out, trying to not sound too cheeky. “That’s a regular in anyone’s book. And I like to think I’m interested in all my regulars.”
Carly managed a ghost of a smile. “Maybe I should find a different bar.”
They both had to know she wouldn’t. She’d probably had drunken sex with half the men in here, she’d been thrown out for fighting, and they still let her through the front door. Where else were they going to tolerate her?
Tifa straightened, and then gestured to a framed sign behind the bar. It read “out of order” “Where else would frame the out of order sign they put on the bathroom door from when you were, uhm, entertaining someone.”
“Oh, god,” Carly rubbed at her temple, her expression slightly pained, something between amused and embarrassed. “Thanks for that, by the way.” Because everyone should have reminders of their poor judgement hanging on the walls.
“No one needed to walk in on that, trust me.” Tifa had a pained expression of her own but she wasn’t going to judge someone’s choices in partners.
Even if she was judging a little.
“Please. Don't remind me.” She might want the tequila back. And it was what had gotten her into trouble in the first place. At least she’d made it back into her own apartment that night.
“How come I’ve never noticed? That you pay so much attention to what I’m doing.”
“I pay attention to everyone that comes through those doors,” She pointed. “After all, that’s what I’m paid for. Boss has me minding the store while she’s… occupied.”
“So you’re spying?”
“I wouldn’t call it spying. I have to make sure people don’t break up shop, or I’m paying for it.” She slid a bowl of nuts towards Carly. “Eat something if you want to be able to walk home straight.”
The look on her face clearly said she wasn’t impressed, but she reached into the bowl anyway.
“I promise I won’t break anything. And if I do, you can send me a bill.” This time, her smile was a little more relaxed. “It isn’t like you don’t know where to find me.”
“Camped out in our gutter like that one time?” Tifa said, maybe a little too sharply. Usually she had better customer service than this.
“That won’t happen again.” Carly looked down uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact. At least most nights she made it home, to someone’s home. A few nights lately, it hadn’t always been her own. One day, she was probably going to regret that. Maybe she already did.
“Better our gutter than somewhere else,” Tifa pointed out. “Luckily you don’t weigh much and I was able to carry you somewhere safer.”
It was almost like she cared.
Carly wasn’t great at apologies, acknowledging her mistakes. But Tifa had gone well beyond what should be expected of her where she was concerned. More than once. “Thank you. For that.”
She shouldn’t need someone looking out for her, and that someone definitely shouldn’t be her bartender. God, what was she doing with her life?
“Maybe I should give you my address, tell you where I hide the key.” Sometimes it was hard to tell if she was being serious.
Tifa raised both of her eyebrows and grinned teasingly. “Well that’s a unique way of inviting me home.”
“And incredibly awkward,” she agreed, choking back a laugh. That hadn’t exactly been where she’d meant for that to go. “But I probably at least owe you a drink.”
“You’ll have to wait until I’m off shift,” Tifa replied, mischief remaining in her eyes. “But I’ll take you up on it.”
Carly watched her for a second, then nodded. “Okay. We both know I’m usually here most of the night anyway.”
“Maybe I’ll even let you drink me under the table,” Tifa joked. She turned away from Carly to attend to another customer.
“You know I’m willing to try,” Carly answered, finishing her beer. And she’d had plenty of practice, but maybe she’d pause the head start. Propping an elbow on the bar, she settled in to watch Tifa work while she waited.