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The bar was beginning to pick up a bit of steam now. More people were coming in. However, it looked like the two newest arrivals already knew each other, while the young looking one who had come in seemed content to stick to his own drink. In the meantime, she was enjoying her conversation with Bandit.
"Looks like the place isn't so empty tonight after all," she said to Bandit. "Know any of them?"
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Bandit takes a glance about the new faces, he gives his head a shake. He writes, Neither do you, I take it?
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"No," she said, shaking her head. "Haven't seen any of them outside this place, and this is my first time here." She pursed her lips, thinking. "To be honest, Bandit, I came here because I heard it was a good place to meet people, do some networking. As weird as it sounds," she added, looking at the bar around them. "You heard anything like that?"
Leon pulled his leather wallet from his pocket and grabbed a five which he slid to the bartender, and a one, which he sat down on the counter. He didn't have too much spare cash at the moment, but you always tip your bartender.
As the two new arrivals entered, he turned to give them a look up and down.
"Fine, " he thought as the first of the well-dressed men walked into the room. He had a thing for good smiles. His companion wasn't bad for eye candy either.
"You have a nice smile, " he says to Girardi as he settled into the bar. "Do you come around here often?"
The Old Man's expression remained entirely neutral as he observed the two men coming to his bar, and he was already taking down glasses on the assumption that they would be purchasing something. People had a way of being tossed out on their asses if they came into his bar to chat and not part with their hard-earned cash.
It was just a pity that they looked too over the drinking age to warrant being ID'd.
In the recesses of the ever-present bartender, The Old Man was dimly aware that he became more curmudgeonly around Christmas and New Years. In fact, his only concession to Christmas was a bauble dangling from each corner of the bar.
Turning around to the alcohol he made up two Whiskey sours with the speed and efficiency of a man who knew damned well how to do his job, and did it well.
"$3.75," he stated.
Tony looked over at Tom for a moment, flashing that smile for just a moment at his partner's remark. He wasn't about to encourage the guy to keep lipping off about a man's establishment when the bartender was in the middle of serving them - that'd be rude - but when the Old Man got straight to the whiskey sours, that made the agent quite pleased indeed.
After all, the process of ordering a drink was between him and a nice, low buzz.
The mutters of conversation that Tony's sharp senses picked up caught discussion of one 'Bandit' and a woman talking about this dump being a place to network. He'd heard rumours too - rumours of human trafficking one day, something else random the next. But it was a bar, clearly and simply. He shrugged it off...
...especially since there was liquor to be had. He slid a five across the bar to the Old Man and said, "Thanks," taking a sip as his smile was complimented by some guy.
"Thank you -- and not yet," he said to Leon, not exactly super welcoming but certainly not rude either. Tony wasn't the kind of guy to get all up in arms when some guy flirted with him. He wasn't interested, but it never paid to be a dick when a stranger was being nice. He just returned his attention to Tom and said, "You're a Sac native, eh? How was this place growin' up?" he asked, curious about Harrison's experience with the town.
1 sux to perceive the buzz in the bar
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Tom takes the drink with a nod to the bartender and sips enough off the top so it won't spill when looked at wrong. He nods an affirmative to Girardi's question. "Yup, thought I'd gotten out of Sac when I was tapped by D.C., but then I got assigned back at the local office here. They said something about wanting a native in the area." He shrugs and takes a sip of his drink. "I imagine growing up here was the same as any other metropolitan area that isn't DC, LA, New York, or Chicago. Nothing much exciting, got in a bit of trouble, then off to college." He chuckles, "What about you, where're you from?"
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Back here again, thought Lynx sourly. There had to be better places to soak in spirits than the Spiral. It rarely held a friendly face but he had the feeling he was warming up to the Old Man. Probably because he didn't jabber needlessly at him anymore. He knew what was considered acceptable behavior in this dive, and that was to mind your own business. Somehow this place had managed to craft good and bad memories within it, which was probably the only reason anyone frequented it.
Pushing the door open he was surprised to see the turnout. A few more faces than usual. That was something noteworthy. He wondered if the liveliness was getting to the bartender. "Seasons Greetings," Lynx said to the Old Man as he sat at one of the barstools. And like a Christmas card from a grandmother he contained cash. "A scotch & soda, please."
Leon shrugged at Tom's apparent disinterest in small talk, and turned back to face the bartender, continuing to listen to the conversations at hand.
D.C.? Local office? Are these guys Feds? Great. It's always the pretty ones.
Leon took a sip of his drink and whirled his glass idly as he continued to listen in on Tom and Tony's conversation. May as well figure out what I can about them.
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