Title: Dating for Dummies
Author: Misty Flores
Email: mistiec_flores@yahoo.com
Teaser: A lonely bartender gets an earful when three women enter, fully intent on getting drunk, and three men are the reason. Small Vignett-y Sequel to 'How to Date a Beautiful Woman'
Pairing: Angel/Cordelia, Wesley/Faith, and Fred/Gunn. Lorne/Kate implied.
Distribution: http://www.stoic-simplicity.net/
Rating: Very R for hard core sexual situations and adult situations.
Notes: Just a fun follow-up due to requests. It's not nearly as long as How to Date... Much fluff. Some angst. Some sex. The usual.
--

I don't know much
But I know I love you
And that may be all I need to know

--

Part One: Meet the Barflies

It was slow for a Tuesday.

Okay, granted, things were always slow on Tuesday, but Rick had never really been so bored, that he actually WATCHED the cases going on Judge Judy, flickering on the big screen TV in the corner. Now, leaning against the counter, he did, cocking his head.

Wow. That Judge Judy was MEAN.

Sighing, he turned, taking a rag and haphazardly wiping at the counter top, eyes drifting over the clientele. Not much to look at, really. Debbie, with the big bar hair, who never missed a night, sitting in the corner, chatting it up with some guy in leather. Dan, in the other corner, smoking his tenth cigarette, loud and obnoxious on the cell phone as he typed away on his Dell 5200, plugged into the place's only internet jack.

Rick was fully aware of the stigma that came with bartenders. The night life. The chicks. The stories. Bullshit. He was lucky if he got a decent tip nowadays. This used to be a cool place. But, people had moved on, to greener pastures.

Fingering his books, nestled under the counter, he wondered if now was the time to retry studying for that bar exam. That hot lawyer chick... Lilah... that was her name, she seemed happy enough. When she wasn't drinking herself under the table.

Eh. It was a thought.

Sighing, he leaned against the counter, turning a bored eye to the door, when it suddenly rattled. Huh. Curious, he straightened, eyes widened when he saw exactly who entered.

Wow.

A lithe, graceful woman entered first, dark hair over a pale face, with even darker hooded eyes, lined with mascara. On her wrist was a jangle of leather bracelets, and painted on her toned, muscled arm was a tattoo that wrapped intimately around her bicep. Wavy hair fell in rumpled waves, framing a face with pursed red lips and a dark scowl. And, Oh my God - she was wearing leather pants. Skin tight, body hugging, ass lifting leather pants, and a barely there tanktop with breasts that would make any woman proud.

She stood, as if inspecting the room, before opening the door wider, and from behind her, another woman emerged, taller, more slender than the first. She wore a dark tan, accented by blonde highlights streaked over brown hair, cut short, swinging against her chin and neck. Elegant, with hazel eyes that shone as she pondered the room, turning, wrap around skirt swishing, and showing a tantalizing portion of a bronze leg, as she reached into the doorway, and pulled in ANOTHER girl.

Rick slumped against the barstool. This one was a little thinner than the others. Long brown hair, ironed straight, tall, with wide, gorgeous brown eyes, with an expressive mouth. It was obvious she did not want to be there. A short summer dress and a jean jacket revealed legs that could go on forever, wrapped around a man's waist, even better, and small agile fingers that could-

"Hey." Rick blinked, shaken out of his pondering when Debbie suddenly appeared less than a foot away. "Another Alabama Slammer."

He cocked his eyebrow, sighing as he resisted another look at his new customers, and reached behind the bar. "Don't you think you've had enough, Debbie?"

"No."

"I'm cutting you off after this one."

"Oh, and you got anything better to do?" she snapped, rolling her eyes, and tossing a ten on the counter, taking the drink he offered. "Keep the change."

"Can we just do this and leave?"

"Shut up, Fred."

"But what if we get really... you know..." Rick turned his gaze, and caught the one they called Fred, the thin one, leaning forward. Her voice got noticeably lower. "Drunk? I mean, now that Kate's living with Lorne, it's not like we can just go and -"

"We're not here to get drunk, Fred."

"Right, 'cause that shit helped us SO much the last time," the one in leather responded, straddling a bar stool in a manner that, Rick supposed, she also straddled men. Woah. He blinked. Talk about an over active libido.

"Besides, not like I know if I can actually GET drunk anymore, what with the whole demon-y thing," Blonde Streaks said, pulling up a stool next to 'Leather', and pulling one for the one with the guy's name. Her eyes moved about the bar, pursing her lips. "Might as well try it out, right?"

"Whatever. Where's the damned bartender?"

Bartender. Oh wait. That was him. "That's me!" he yelped, almost stumbling over a crate that seemed to show up out of nowhere as he traveled the ten feet to get to them. "I'm the bartender. Hi! Rick!"

Three sets of female eyes now stared. Rick paused, suddenly self-conscious when he felt level gazes appraise him from head to foot.

Was it hot in here?

Pulling at his tie, he managed a smile. "What can I get you?"

Streaks smirked, and both eyes went to Leather. Suddenly, a hand wrapped around his tie, and Rick was yanked forward, to find himself face to face with a pair of blazing brown eyes. He gulped.

"I... uh..."

"I want something hard, fast. Something that will get me fucked-"

He was saved when the Streaks pulled her back, plopping her into her chair. "Malibu Rum with pineapple juice for me and Slutty, here. Fred?"

Fred bit her upper lip nervously. "Coke."

"Coke?" 'Slutty' rolled her eyes. "Fuck, Fred. We're here. In a bar, we might as well TRY to get DRUNK."

"I can't drink."

"You can hold your liquor better, than I can, Fred."

"Cordelia..." Cordelia. That was Streak's name. Cordelia. Like the lady in Shakespeare. Regal. Rolling off the tongue like a sonnet-

"What's with you, anyway? I mean, I know why I'M here, I know why Faith's here-" Rick blinked. Faith. Leather Slutty Girl's name was FAITH?! "But why did we drag you here? I thought you and Gunn were the picture of domestic bliss."

Gunn. Fred had a guy and his name was Gunn. Gunn. Either that or a really phallic vibrator. Okay. One down, two to go.

"I can mix something really mild," he offered, once again turning their attention on to him. "Not a lot of alcohol."

"None, preferably," Fred said, slumping down in her stool. "I'll just take a Shirley Temple."

Faith snorted, and Rick had no idea why, but he found himself looking at Cordelia for confirmation. As if too tired to argue, Cordelia waved him away.

Turning, Rick began to set up the glasses, reaching under for the rum, one ear tuned into the girls. Odd, he hadn't realized it, but as he watched each girl seated side by side, he wondered if he had ever seen a more diverse trio of chicks.

"Now, what's with the alcohol repulsion?"

"Yeah, Fred. You were knocking back those shots so fast last week, you almost got ME beat."

"I just... I really don't want to... it's nothing."

"Well, that 'nothing' is what dragged your ass out here, so you better spill," Cordelia said, sighing. "What idiotic thing did Gunn do this time?"

"He didn't do anything. Look, can we just do what we came to do and -"

"Hello, ladies." Rick looked up to find Dan, wearing a smile and holding a beer. "Can I buy you a drink?"

Faith cocked an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Huh?"

"Which one did you want to buy a drink for?" she asked flatly.

"Whoever'd like one."

"I have a boyfriend," Fred said quickly, immediately pulling out a book, and burying her nose in it.

"Big ass, tall, mean one," Cordelia offered.

Dan smiled, sidling toward her. Rick narrowed his eyes. Geez. Couldn't he lay off? He saw 'em first!

"No, she's talking about HER boyfriend," Faith said, swinging the stool back to the bar. "Her boyfriend is a big ass, tall, mean mother fucker. Drinks blood."

Rick almost spilled the glass. Damn. Well, that only left-

"And you?" Dan asked. "Your boyfriend, what's he like?"

Faith went silent, a beguiling smirk on her face. "My boyfriend," she said finally. "Is a British stick-up-the-butt curse obsessed man in love with books."

"But apparently, the sex is great! Especially on couches!"

"Will you get the FUCK off that? That only happened once!"

"Twice."

"Well, I meant, AFTER the first time."

"You're still paying for that."

Rick placed the glasses down in front of the women, a bewildered smile on his lips as he placed coasters down. "Here you go."

"Thanks."

"I got those," Dan said, fishing into his wallet.

"You really don't have to."

"I want to."

Cordelia and Faith exchanged a look, and shrugged. "Okay." Faith slid off the leather stool, and slammed a hand into Dan's back, making him lurch forward, fumbling with his wallet. "Thanks."

Rick had to suppress a smirk when the three women gathered their drinks and moved to the other end, leaving Dan standing there, the money in his hand, mouth agape. "That's 18 bucks," he offered.

Dan stared, and shook his head, plonking down the cash. "Fuck."

"Hey man, wha'd you expect, they all have boyfriends." There was almost a note of longing in his voice, as Rick stared down to the corner of the mahogany wood, to the whispering trio. "Wasn't like you were going to get any."

"A lady could change her mind," Dan said.

"Yeah, I guess..." Rick mused, as Cordelia flipped her hair back over her shoulder, revealing a milky white neck, marred by what looked like a big... hickey? "Seems like the beautiful ones are always taken, right?"

"How do I get a beautiful woman," Dan wondered out loud.

"I'd ask them."

"You!" Rick straightened, blinking when the one in leather, Faith, waved to him. "Get over here."

"Faith!" Cordelia hissed.

Faith shrugged her off. "No. I want to know."

"Faith, I really don't-"

"Shut up, Fred."

The two men cast each other surprised glances, but obediently, Rick moved, Dan following closely behind.

"Can I help you?" he offered.

"Sure. I have a question that I want to ask. You, too," she indicated toward Dan.

"Sure," Dan said, smiling as he adjusted his tie.

"What the FUCK is the matter with YOU!" Rick blinked, taken aback. He glanced at Dan helplessly, but found Dan gaping like a fish.

"Excuse me?"

"What's the matter with you guys? Are you this stupid, like on, PURPOSE? Do you TRY to push us away? Is it like, a CONSCIOUS effort to make us seem like incompetent bitches?"

Well... that was... unexpected. "I ... uh... what?"

"It's a valid question," Fred offered, sipping her Shirley Temple like a child at a soda fountain. Her brown eyes glistened with quiet rage. "We do everything to be supportive, to be there, and then the minute we need you, you turn into stoic, quiet-"

"Broody-"

"Broody, thank you, Cordelia." Cordelia smiled graciously.

"Fucks," Faith finished.

"I... uh-"

"What kind of guys are you with?" Dan asked. Exasperation was etched clearly on his face. "We're NOT that bad!"

"I... just want to give you guys your drinks," Rick sputtered. "That's all... I mean, if your boyfriend's can't handle-"

"My boyfriend can handle whatever the hell he-"

"Faith-" Fred placed her hand on the hot-tempered girl's shoulder. "He wasn't tryin' to be mean." She turned back to him. "But I would like an answer. Perhaps I could understand."

"Understand WHAT?!"

"What it is, about them," she replied, "That makes you want to melt, and strangle them at the same time."

"What the hell did Gunn do?!" Cordelia sputtered.

"Yeah. Shit, now I'm curious."

Fred merely stared into her drink and said nothing for a beat. "There's no alcohol in this, right?"

Rick managed to absorb the question, despite the distraction of Faith leaning up in her seat to stretch.

"I... uh... no."

"So let me get this straight." The girls and the men looked back to find Big Hair Debbie staring down at them, a drink in one hand, and the guy in leather's ass in another. "You three came out here, just to get drunk, because of your boyfriends?"

Cordelia sighed. "It happens occasionally."

"I have a problem when getting drunk over men becomes a fucking ritual," Faith grumbled. "I didn't have this shit when I was in jail."

"Jail?!" Dan squeaked.

Faith's mouth twitched. "Yeah. I'm a convicted murderer. Forget to mention that?"

"Hardcore, huh?" Debbie asked, pulling up a chair and straddling it backwards. "I like that. Name's Debbie."

"Regular?" Cordelia asked dryly.

The sarcasm was apparently lost on her. "And ya'll are?"

There was a moment of silence, before Fred, the only one with manners, got up and offered a smile. "I'm Fred," she said graciously, shaking her hand. "And that's Cordelia and Faith."

"Nice to meetcha." Debbie smiled. "This here is Jake, he's a big glowering type."

Faith quirked an eyebrow, meeting the man in leather's gaze with a soft smile. He glowered back. When Cordelia cast her a look, she quirked an eyebrow.

Cordelia smiled back. "Not yet."

"Whatever."

"And that's Rick, our bartender, and Dan, our yuppie."

"Pleased to meet you ladies." Dan said, a trifle too enthusiastic as he shook Fred's hand vehemently. He took a seat. "Can I refill that... Shirley Temple?"

"Oh honey, for an occasion like this, you need the hardcore stuff." Debbie motioned to Rick. "Pull out the shot glasses."

"No, it's fine, really!" Fred said hastily. "I don't want to drink."

"Oh, come on, sweetie, you can't be in a bar, and not drink!"

"She doesn't want to drink, leave her the fuck alone," Faith growled, losing patience. The glare in her eyes was enough to make Rick shrink back, but Debbie, happily buzzed, only patted Faith on the shoulder.

"Calm down, tiger. This here's a happy bar! Well, okay," she amended. "It's a really pathetic bar, but no one gets out of here without telling their story."

"You really think we're going to spill our reasons for being here to total strangers?" Cordelia scoffed. "Not."

"Sorry, sweetie. It's a rule."

"Do it, and the drinks are all on the house." Everyone stared at Rick in shock, and even he blinked, looking around to make sure he was the one that said it.

But yeah... it had to be him. He smiled, and nodded.

The women stayed silent, before looking at each other. Finally, the leather chick shrugged.

"Whatever," she said, dismissing them all with a flip of her hair, digging into her pants to pull out a crumpled packet of cigarettes.

"I thought Wes hated when you smoked," Cordelia said, narrowing her eyes at her.

"Fuck Wes," she muttered, pulling out a lighter.

"Faith, you're not smoking anywhere near me."

"Fred-"

"NO. Put that out."

"Fred, shut-"

"I think I'm pregnant! PUT IT OUT!"

The entire room fell silent in shock. The lighter fell from Faith's hands, Cordelia's eyes widened, and every person had their eyes locked on Fred.

"You've got to be shitting me," Faith whispered.

"Oh, Geez, Fred..."

"What the hell happened?!" Debbie asked excitedly.

"He knocked you UP!? I'm going to fucking KILL the bastard-"

"Faith, calm down. Fred?!"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Fred!"

Rick blew out his breath, thanking GOD he hadn't slipped any alcohol into the Shirley Temple, as Dan hastily snuffed his own cigarette out.

Fred's face was beet red, almost the color of her Shirley Temple. "Just... I won't... You first," she blurted.

Cordelia blinked. "What?"

"You first. I'll go last."

"Fred, I'm not going to-"

"Oh, Fuck it, I'LL go," Faith said, now shredding her cigarette into bits. Her eyes flashed as she turned to their audience. "But if you asses tell anyone what anyone said, I'll fucking kill you, all right?"

Debbie happily nodded. Dan swallowed and pulled on his tie again, and Rick slumped back against the bar.

Okay, so maybe there was a reason he wasn't dating beautiful women. They were scary as hell.

--

end part one