[ he's behind the bar comparing a couple of bottles of something when she arrives. he looks - tired, a little worn, but who doesn't these days? especially with everything that's just passed.
on her arrival he leaves both bottles out on the counter and turns to collect two cups, land them on the bartop. ]
[ bobbi look - not worn, not tired. she looks fine. it's an act, of course, but lying with her body language is as much if not more second nature than lying with her words is for her.
it lasts until after she's put the noodles on the counter. until after she's asked ] Do you accept payment in goods?
[ he knows who she is. he knows that she's missing people. slowly, layer by layer, the act drops until there's weariness in the line of her shoulders, in the curve of her lips. sadness, too. ]
[ he watches it peels away. it's not a happy thing, but it is better. they've both got their burdens now, and everybody needs somewhere to not have to pretend that what they carry weighs nothing.
she has very few places to go with freedom like that. they need to band together.
he reaches out a hand to pull the noodles toward him. pushes out a bottle in return. ]
May I recommend the house vintage.
[ it's just the first bottle he happened to grab. ]
[ she's very, very good at pretending - but he's not wrong. it's a relief to let it go, for a little while at least. there's no agenda here, just two people from the same world offering each other some companionship.
it's a small thing, in a way. it's worth a lot.
her lips twitch upward, briefly. ] Sounds delightful.
[ the "house vintage" turns out to be a viognier and bobbi definitely isn't going to complain about that. so after glancing at the label, she opens the bottle and pours for both of them. ]
[ while she does that, he disappears briefly out back to return with a couple of forks (a little easier on the hands, especially since there's wine in their future), both of which he sticks in the noodles before sliding the container back across the bar and abandoning it altogether. he comes around to settle on a barstool, accept a glass, raise it in mute toast to nothing and take a sip.
- a pause. a sigh of relief. ]
Well, at least we finally managed to order in something drinkable.
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[ and, actually...
Stephen sends her a GPS to the bar under the stadium. the one he now part-owns, which they haven't had a chance to open.
but which they have seen fit to stock. ]
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although she does stop on the way to get some food. some insect-free noodles that are good hot or cold. ]
Hey.
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[ he's behind the bar comparing a couple of bottles of something when she arrives. he looks - tired, a little worn, but who doesn't these days? especially with everything that's just passed.
on her arrival he leaves both bottles out on the counter and turns to collect two cups, land them on the bartop. ]
Congratulations. You're our first customer.
no subject
[ bobbi look - not worn, not tired. she looks fine. it's an act, of course, but lying with her body language is as much if not more second nature than lying with her words is for her.
it lasts until after she's put the noodles on the counter. until after she's asked ] Do you accept payment in goods?
[ he knows who she is. he knows that she's missing people. slowly, layer by layer, the act drops until there's weariness in the line of her shoulders, in the curve of her lips. sadness, too. ]
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she has very few places to go with freedom like that. they need to band together.
he reaches out a hand to pull the noodles toward him. pushes out a bottle in return. ]
May I recommend the house vintage.
[ it's just the first bottle he happened to grab. ]
no subject
it's a small thing, in a way. it's worth a lot.
her lips twitch upward, briefly. ] Sounds delightful.
[ the "house vintage" turns out to be a viognier and bobbi definitely isn't going to complain about that. so after glancing at the label, she opens the bottle and pours for both of them. ]
no subject
[ while she does that, he disappears briefly out back to return with a couple of forks (a little easier on the hands, especially since there's wine in their future), both of which he sticks in the noodles before sliding the container back across the bar and abandoning it altogether. he comes around to settle on a barstool, accept a glass, raise it in mute toast to nothing and take a sip.
- a pause. a sigh of relief. ]
Well, at least we finally managed to order in something drinkable.
no subject
[ that sounds like there's a story there. the kind of story that's mundane and not terribly important and hence perfect for a moment like this.
also: you could've asked for her expert opinion. she's been drinking a lot of wine in the last six months ;) ]