Disclaimer: Don't own it.

If you really want to know, she comes here a lot.
She just loves to hear the music and dance.
K13 is her favorite song.
If you play it, you might have a chance.
Tonight she's only sippin' white wine.
She's friendly, and fun-lovin' most of the time.

But don't ask her on a straight tequila night.

She'll start thinkin' about him, then she's ready to fight.
Blames her broken heart on every man in sight,
On a straight tequila night.

Straight Tequila Night by John Anderson

The bar wasn't the cleanest place in Boston, but damn it, it was hers. The haze from the cigarettes, rudely cut by the neon lights, the worn oak bar and the ragged stools—hers. The clack of the pool balls and the soft mumble of the regulars over their long necks—hers. The beautiful restored 50's jukebox—hers.

The red head was a regular by now. Mostly monotony of her empty apartment. The silence of the 20th floor studio drove her crazy some nights. Maybe she should get a cat, how fitting. But, until then, it was the third stool from the jukebox, out of the way of the dart board, good view of the TV and a glass of pinot.

Then there were her boys. "Julie, dance with me," they would plead. And she would, bury the memory of the blue eyes and kick up her heels. It could go on for hours, no harm—the men were old enough to be her father. They wanted to talk about their passed on wives and how the Bruins needed to get their shit together. Jokes would be shared and everyone would go home buzzed, but happy.

Most nights at least.

The Rangers were in town and those goddamn blue eyes found her. Their eyes met and for just a moment…they clicked. . Just like they did in college at Minnesota State all those years ago. His looked away quickly, not noticing why those eyes were so familiar Like a fool she forgotten he was on that team.

Of course, he was drafted right out of college to the Rangers and she went to med school at Stanford. And 4 years later, his words still stung.

"But Adam, you have to understand, I love you. I'll give it all up. You. Me. I'll come with you," she pleaded from the passenger seat outside her dorm.

He shook his head, "Julie, we've been dating four years, don't you want to know what it's like to be with someone else? How do you know that this is it?"

Her lower lip trembled, a tear slipped down her cheek. "Please give us a chance," she looked at him and let her hand find his across the dark car. He pushed it away.

"I need this," he said, unlocking the door. "Goodbye Jules." She whimpered at the emotional blow, throwing open the door and running across the wet grass.

The next day she went to salon and dyed her hair a firey red.

After popping Bartkowski's shoulder back in place, Julie peeled off her gloves and set to work setting it in a sling and putting the ice bag on it. She couldn't wait to get out of there, she needed to get out of there before a certain blue eyed forward got out of the showers.

The bar was right around the corner. Choosing her usual stool, Bud the bartender reached for the wine cooler. Julie shook her head.

"Not tonight, give me a double of Patron," she said, rubbing her temples, "And keep them company." Bud looked at his disheveled friend with a heavy sigh.

"Him again?" as he poured the amber liquid, placing it in front of her. She nodded sadly and took the shot with a grimace and a cough.

"Can't you tell?" she whispered, she looked up at him, her green eyes shining with the neon. "Just let me get drunk tonight Bud, I can't deal with it tonight." Her fingers toying with the now empty glass. "I just need to forget," Bud nodded his assent and poured her another.

As she lifted the glass to her lips a large arm curled around her. It was attached to Henry and his Bruins jersey. Julie was his daughter's age, so Julie became a surrogate daughter to him. "Hey there, sweet cheeks. Hows about I grab you before your dance card fills up?" he flirted innocently, not realizing the wild gestures Bud was making to the contrary.

"Henry, fuck off," she spat as Bud placed another shot in front of her; she took this one just as fast. Henry looked at her with a confused visage and turned. He met Bud's eyes and nodded.

"Water now," Bud said setting a pint glass full of ice water in front of her. He walked down the bar to the young blonde gentleman that had just sat down. "What'll it be?" he said, noticing the man's collared shirt and black eye.

"A Bud Light, and the name of the girl down the bar," the young man said, his blue eyes shining on the beautiful woman. He had never been with a red head.

Bud reached into the cooler and put the bottle in front of him. "That's Julie, but tonight her name is is Go Fuck Yourself. Sorry friend, tonight is not a good night for it." The young man furrowed his brow as he took a long draw off the bottle.

Then he realized, it was her. After all of these years, her. The young man reached across the bar and handed Bud a twenty. "I'll take my chances." He gave Bud a charming smile.

He sauntered down the bar to her. "Jules?" Those bright green eyes met his. "Long time no see," he gave his best charming smile. She stood quickly as if to run away but she stood her ground, staring him down. "I like your hair," he babbled.

"You," she glared. Her right fist connected with his left cheek with a resounding thud.

"Come into my bar after 6 years and compliment my fucking hair. No, fuck you Adam, not you, not tonight. You can't just show up like this," she bellowed, she took the last shot of tequila in front of her and slammed the glass down so hard that it broke. She grabbed a twenty out of her purse and slammed it down on the bar and stormed out.

The bar had fallen silent at the display.

"I told you," Bud grunted, cleaning up the broken glass left by Julie.

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