"Hit me." The bartender looked at Helena hesitantly; it was her 5th shot in the past 20 minutes. Most normal people would be getting at least a little tipsy by now. But the woman in front of him seemed perfectly straight, even though most men would be re din the face by now. So he poured and watched her lift the glass to her lips and swallow.
He eyed her companion and she shook her head, declining a refill on her Smirnoff. Since his work was done, he moved onto some of his other patrons, who eagerly awaited the chance to get wasted with a couple of good friends.
Claire took another quick sip, letting the warmth spread down her throat and inside of her stomach. She was more of a casual drinker than Helena was, but then again, the Redfield wasn't on the front lines like she was.
"You must have nerves of steel if you can manage to drink that shit," she joked.
Helena smiled lightly, her fingers playing around with the empty shot sitting on the bar top. "What can I say? Duty calls." Her focus derived away from Claire as she nodded the bartender over to load her up for another round. As soon as the last drop was poured, she drank.
The bar was fairly quiet for 1am on a Friday night. A loop of bluesy music played from a wall mounted jukebox while a few stragglers racked up another game of pool. Claire and Helena had been hanging out for an hour or so, sitting comfortably in silence. Both women were a bit tired from a week that had dragged on and on and agreed that a drink was definitely in order.
Claire leaned back against the padded countertop, swirling the contents of her glass around with an idol hand. She chuckled to herself "I've gotta say, I didn't really know what to expect when Leon introduced us, but I've really enjoyed the time we've been spending together." And it was, especially since she had no life, as everyone liked to tease.
"I'm with you on that one. You wouldn't believe the stiffs I have to work with," Helena said, rolling her eyes. If only she could tell the blowhards that she worked for to lighten up without being out of a job.
The redhead mimicked her companion's movements. "You're telling me. It's hard finding someone to talk to about, well, anything really." She took a large swig of her vodka, setting the glass back down a little harder than she had intended to.
Her gaze went back to Helena, whose mind seemed to be elsewhere.
"You okay?"
The agent looked at Claire, a sad, wistful smirk on her face. "It's nothing, really. Deborah and I used to go out to dives like these."
A silence seeped its way in between the two young women. Claire was well aware of what happened to Helena's sister and knew how difficult it must be for her to talk about.
And it was. It had been months since the incident at Tall Oaks. The world was starting to recover from the bio-terror incidents that had plagued the globe and destroyed the lives of millions. For Helena, it was still fresh in her mind; the harsh realization that Deborah was dead and never coming back was all she could think about, day and night.
What made it easier was that justice had been done. Simmons was rotting in the pits of hell from wince he came and her sister's death had been avenged. But it was still hard to live with herself, knowing that she had helped that bastard, knowing that her innocent little sibling had suffered and was dead because of it.
The redhead felt sympathetic for Helena; the months Chris had been MIA after the Arklay outbreak had been the darkest time in her life. Not knowing whether he was dead or had been captured by Umbrella was enough to make Claire hysterical. She could only imagine how Helena must feel. The bond between siblings was a special.
She took a swig of her vodka, finishing the glass off and waved the bartender over. He finished taking an order from a scruffy looking regular that was playing darts with a few of his biker buddies and rushed over with a bottle of Smirnoff. Claire stopped him, just as he was ready to give her a refill.
"Actually, can I get a double of Daniels for me and my friend?"
Interesting. Ponytail seemed to shy away from the ambers, but what did he care as long as they paid their tab. Besides, the butchy one had a long face that was begging for a buzz.
He brought over two freshly filled shots and let them be.
Helena was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of glass sliding down the countertop. She caught it in the palm of her hands and wrapped her fingers around the shot with quick reflexes. Her gaze met Claire's, who was smiling softly, her own glass in hand.
"To Deborah," she said, raising the whiskey to her lips.
The agent was surprised, but did not hesitate to bring her drink in front of her face. "And everyone else," and they both craned their heads back, letting the fire of the alcohol burn their throats.
They both slammed their glasses down at the same time. Helena had handled the liquor smoothly. Claire, not so much. She was coughing rather loudly, leaving the brunette chuckling at her antics. "You weren't shittin' when you said you couldn't handle it."
Claire regained her composure after a few more coughs, sighing out her response. "I can handle it! It'll just take me a little longer, unlike some people I know."
"Wanna bet on it?"
"Totally."
Helena called the bartender over again, pulling out a crisp $50 and slid it across the counter, stopping it right in front of him, though her eyes never left Claire's. "Keep them coming until one of us is too drunk to walk."
The Redfield, never one to back down from a challenge, slapped down a bill on top of the one Helena laid down. "How about till we're both wasted? Don't worry, we took a cab here," she told the bartender, smiling all the while.
"You got it, ladies." And he went off to bring them another round.