Twenty-sixth Theory [Action]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don has been in Luceti for seven months now, but there are still some places he has not yet visited. Tonight, he's crossing one of those places off his list.]

[After leaving a note for his housemates, he heads to Good Spirits to see what kind of novel entertainments it might offer. He's not usually interested in alcohol, but tonight he might just be in the mood for a few drinks. He might even feel like firing up the jukebox and dancing like a fool. And, if any fellow patron should happen to suggest some other previously-untried-but-potentially-fun activity, he might just go along with it.]

[Drink with him? Dare him to do something? Or just watch from that shadowy booth in the corner?]

((There is a reason for the insanity, I promise. Please encourage him to do things he normally wouldn't!))

Comments

[herotypical]

Right, uhm--question! [She raises one hand.] What the heck's a cephelo-whatever?

[i_speak_softly]

[Why does no one know this word?] Ceph- Cephalopods. [Because if he says it more emphatically, surely she'll understand.]

[all7seas]

GIANT OCTOPUS, Buffy. [Jack waves a hand in a casual flourish, squinting at the three drinks in front of him and trying to figure out which was actually there. Ah. The middle one. It's ALWAYS the middle one, Jacky.]

Ask him to draw one for you, he's brilliant at it.

[herotypical]

Gee, sorry. I wasn't so keen on the marine biology, growing up.

[i_speak_softly]

[Low blow, Jack.]

[... Oh hey, a drink. Don will just help himself.]

[all7seas]

[Jack, meanwhile, is concentrating on lining up peanuts on top of the bar for artillery. Yup. Time for another round of "try to hit as many bottles of liquor behind the bar as possible." Then he starts firing them off with forefinger and thumb, punctuating each shot with a grumble.]

Bloody Gibbs. Bloody whale. Map. Piffle. Turtles. Slayers.

[herotypical]

Slayer, Jack. You only know one.

[And to prove just how awesome of one she is, she catches the next peanut casually with one hand, mid-shot.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don sits up a little, impressed by that move. A surprising girl indeed.]

[all7seas]

[Jack eyes Buffy like she's the next target for a flying peanut.]

Aye, don't remind me.

[herotypical]

[One of her brows quirks. Just try me.]

Need anything else, Donnie? [She drawls the nickname.]

[i_speak_softly]

[... How did his glass get empty already?]

I - I think - I'm done.

[all7seas]

Eh, you've got him into a right state, bar wench. Looks like I'll have to carry the lad home.

[And Jack slips off his stool and ends up somewhere down on the floor. Not for the first time.]

[herotypical]

I think it looks like I'll have to carry both of you home.

[And she promptly hops the bar counter.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Hey, where did Jack go? Oh well.]

[all7seas]

[Jack would like the answer to that question, too.]

Where did I go?

[herotypical]

[She crouches, lifting Jack gently with one arm. She offers the other to Don.]

C'mon, boys. You won't get a better escort.

[i_speak_softly]

No, I - better go find Raph.

[So he can brag about his exploits and make continuity happen.]

[all7seas]

[For Jack, what follows is a lot of drunken clinging.]

You caught my peanut! How'd you do it, then?

[herotypical]

[Concerned for if he fell again, Buffy allows the clinging. She supports him as best she can. She will regret it in the morning.]

Slayer reflexes, Jack. I've caught blades with the heels of my palms, before. And not in the slicey way. [Then, to Don:] If you do need a helping hand home? [She appraises him, then:] Come ask, I'm pretty sure I can fireman lift you to wherever you need to go.

[i_speak_softly]

Leo did that once. [Caught a blade, that is. Because you needed to know that.] I'll - I'll see you later, Buffy.

[He stumbles off his stool and heads across the bar in search of Raph.]

[all7seas]

[Jack watches Don leave.]

He's a good man. Turtle. Turtle man. [He sways a bit, steadying himself on Buffy and on the edge of the bar.]

And you're a good woman, Buffy Anne Axe-wielding Summers.

[herotypical]

I tend to try my best. [She replies, quietly.]

I'm...I'm gonna deliver you home now, okay Jack? [She tugs one of his arms up over her shoulder, grabbing onto his wrist and supporting the rest of him with her other arm.]

[all7seas]

[Buffy, helping him along. It doesn't hurt this time. It's lovely.]

Lovely.

[He's too busy smiling down at her like an idiot to pay attention to where he's going.]

[herotypical]

[She tells herself that helping drunk patrons home is simply a part of her job. And that the bar could look after itself. Besides, better to get him tucked in than to let him ravage the village with a load of booze in his belly.]

Just--[and she practically winces when she says it, but:]--hold on, okay? Or you'll end up dragging us both into the jukebox.

[She steers him towards the door.]

[all7seas]

[Jack does as he's told for once and blissfully, drunkenly holds her, his free hand out for balance. Everything is whirling and he loves it.]

Never! I've the reflexes of a jungle cat, lovely!