Vodka Doesn't Lie
Lady Vae
The lights in the bar were finally dimmed. The neon sign changed from the solid friendly orange of OPEN to the ominously flickering red of Closed.
"It should say enter at your own risk," she muttered as she fluidly began wiping down the bar. Using the back of her forearm to shove her straggling bangs from her face, she didn't notice the figure still sitting in the corner booth. He could have been there all night watching her, or could somehow have snuck in from the back room in the brief moment she had taken the trash to the dumpster behind Lucky's Last Shot, either way she remained unaware of his presence.
Engrossed in her work, she didn't notice his eyes watching her weary form going through the task of closing up and restocking for the next evening; she certainly didn't notice anything unusual until she found the missing bottle of high end vodka. Her posture immediately changed from relieved and exhausted to spitting hell cat in less than a heartbeat.
He hid his smile behind his pilfered shot glass as he watched from the relative safety of his shadowed booth. She hadn't changed at all. Older of course, definitely more of a full figured woman then the young girl he'd first encountered, but her temper was still of volcanic proportions and her movements were still graceful with the contained fury of a hurricane. "Thrice damned blasted cod-suckers!" she snarled as she began shoving bottles back and forth looking to see if it had merely been misplaced in the mad rush of closing earlier.
It was all he could do to keep his laughter from spilling out as she fumed, digging through cabinets and slamming doors. "When I find who ever filched that bottle they are going to be introduced to the wrong side of daylight!" she finally declared, standing from her crouch and spinning on her heel to head to the back storage room.
Deciding to spare the poor souls doing stock up in the back he cleared his throat, "I should apologize, had I known it would have put you in such a state I would have refrained." He smiled as she spun around, a hand to her chest the other going behind her back and grasping the first bottle that came to hand.
"Ah you're holding a rather expensive gin, there, love. I'd hate to see it go to waste because you tried to break it over my head." He kept his tone casual and polite watching as her eyes narrowed and he felt something leap inside him at the flash of fire in her eyes. Even after all this time she could still affect him.
"Who are you," she asked voice low and dangerous. His smiled widened, "Don't play coy, you know who I am. We've met before…" he trailed off, waiting. She sneered, her cherry red lips contorting sarcastically, "What? Once upon a dream?" her voice was a breathy mocking falsetto reminiscent of Mary Costa's dreamy Princess Aurora.
He quirked an eyebrow and moved towards the bar with nearly feline grace, "Perhaps," he purred placing the vodka and shot glass on the top of the bar between them. He flicked his fingers and like a stage magician another shot glass appeared between his fingers, "Join me?"
He saw the flicker of hesitation, "You're off the clock and it will be a while before Hugo and Ron are finished with unloading the new shipments. We have a little time, and it's only a few drinks."
Her eyes narrowed again, "Why should I?"
He smiled and it could only be described as devilish, "Because vodka doesn't lie."