…I’m just warming up. [And she makes it her business to chug the rest of her current bottle.
She lets out a small huff once she sets it down. Waits a moment. Then she turns to get the bartender’s attention. Whiskey time.
(She’s more than aware she’s doing this backwards. But beer before liquor doesn’t seem to count as far as her system’s concerned. He just hasn’t witnessed it yet.)]
[She shifts around in her seat, stretching a little as she waits for her first whiskey of the night.]
I can catch up real easy.
[Which she exhibits by making the quickest work possible of the glass as soon as it’s set down in front of her. It’s gone in almost one shot - she has to take a short breather for part two. And then she sets the empty glass down before asking for a second.]
[He is definitely trying to get her riled up, as evidenced by how difficult it's getting to smother his smile. The new whiskey is downed to try and help. It doesn't.]
Don't worry. I've had to carry plenty of people out of a bar before.
[If he’s giving any sort of tell? Wendy’s rather oblivious. Sure she said she could handle the booze - which is absolutely true - but she’s tipsy anyway. Really tipsy. It creeps up after a while. Just trying to to ignore his teasing comments and focus on drinking more than him without throwing up all over the bar.
Maybe a glass of water in between - before this little game was called, actually - would’ve been the smartest idea. Oh well.
She lets out a huff before picking up her third whiskey. Annoyed. Whatever. Here it goes.]
[That stubborn huff only gets him to grin more as he signals for another round. He downs his almost immediately before leaning on his hand as he turns to her again.]
Maybe you should tell me where you're staying. Just in case I have to call you a cab.
[Excuse him? She makes a face as she downs her whiskey, then sets the empty glass on the bar. Okay wow that’s a bit strong. Not sure why.]
You won’t. Don’t worry about it. [She flippantly waves her hand at him.] I can get home just fine. [Pause.] If you wanted to come to my place you could’ve just asked. [The way she says it - there’s no sarcasm there. Wendy’s utterly casual.
She looks his way, her expression quite unreadable. Possibly bored? Unless that’s just all the alcohol making her eyelids droop.]
[After this many drinks his poker face isn't as good as it usually is. He looks amused, then confused, and then both as he squints at her as if trying to figure out a crossword puzzle.
It takes him a long minute before he says,] But you're not interested in me like that.
[He squints at her and she catches it and nearly bursts out laughing. There’s a bit of coughing from her, and she covers her mouth with a fist. All the whiskey’s tickling her throat.]
I know I’m not. [Unless…] I’m just not sure what your interest level in me is, that’s all. [She points.] I’m probably too wasted for this conversation right now. Just thinking out loud.
[Just as well she didn't laugh. That would have stung a bit. Instead he's just relieved he wasn't entirely misreading her. So he actually relaxes a little.]
You're very pretty. But I'm not interested in anyone who's not interested in me.
[It's a bit of a major turn-off for him.
He sips his whiskey and barely hides a grin as he looks at her.]
[Okay, well. Wendy knows she’s pretty - or at the most somewhat conventionally attractive. But hearing it from someone else makes her nearly knock over her fresh whiskey. When did that get there? The bartender just knows by now.
Suddenly she doesn’t know what to do with her hands, despite a drink being right there next to her. So her ponytail is twirled instead. Is she bombing? Yeah.]
Maybe. A little pining does wonders for a person’s confidence.
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That's a lot of change you're asking for.
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[Her beer bottles are swapped out and she takes a sip of the fresh one. No use slowing down now.]
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Just how much are you planning on us drinking?
[Not an accusation. Just genuine curiosity about the night he's about to have.]
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[A pause, and then she turns to face him.]
If you don’t wanna drink, just tell me. I won’t get mad.
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[Then he downs his glass and waves the barman for another.]
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Sorry - what was that?
[Wendy squints a little. She didn’t hear that last part too well.
Or she thinks she didn’t.]
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He will not, however, prevent a challenge from being extended.]
I said: If you can keep up.
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I can drink you under the table. Are you sure you wanna play this game?
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Are you sure you're ready to lose?
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Who - me? I’m not a loser. I’m already five in. I can go all night.
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She lets out a small huff once she sets it down. Waits a moment. Then she turns to get the bartender’s attention. Whiskey time.
(She’s more than aware she’s doing this backwards. But beer before liquor doesn’t seem to count as far as her system’s concerned. He just hasn’t witnessed it yet.)]
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He does a poor job of smothering a grin as he teases,] Do you want me to slow down for you?
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[She shifts around in her seat, stretching a little as she waits for her first whiskey of the night.]
I can catch up real easy.
[Which she exhibits by making the quickest work possible of the glass as soon as it’s set down in front of her. It’s gone in almost one shot - she has to take a short breather for part two. And then she sets the empty glass down before asking for a second.]
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Don't push yourself if you can't do it. Not everyone can handle strong liquor.
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And there goes whiskey #2.]
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Don't worry. I've had to carry plenty of people out of a bar before.
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Maybe a glass of water in between - before this little game was called, actually - would’ve been the smartest idea. Oh well.
She lets out a huff before picking up her third whiskey. Annoyed. Whatever. Here it goes.]
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Maybe you should tell me where you're staying. Just in case I have to call you a cab.
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You won’t. Don’t worry about it. [She flippantly waves her hand at him.] I can get home just fine. [Pause.] If you wanted to come to my place you could’ve just asked. [The way she says it - there’s no sarcasm there. Wendy’s utterly casual.
She looks his way, her expression quite unreadable. Possibly bored? Unless that’s just all the alcohol making her eyelids droop.]
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It takes him a long minute before he says,] But you're not interested in me like that.
[He's sure. Pretty sure. Hence the bafflement.]
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I know I’m not. [Unless…] I’m just not sure what your interest level in me is, that’s all. [She points.] I’m probably too wasted for this conversation right now. Just thinking out loud.
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You're very pretty. But I'm not interested in anyone who's not interested in me.
[It's a bit of a major turn-off for him.
He sips his whiskey and barely hides a grin as he looks at her.]
Were you hoping I'd be pining over you?
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Suddenly she doesn’t know what to do with her hands, despite a drink being right there next to her. So her ponytail is twirled instead. Is she bombing? Yeah.]
Maybe. A little pining does wonders for a person’s confidence.
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Muldoon shakes his head.]
Not how I do things. Don't think I could pine if I tried. When I'm with someone they bloody well know how much I like them. I make sure of it.
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