TITLE: Absinthe Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

AUTHOR: Halla Theguil T. Pleasures

FANDOM: Lackadaisy

CHARACTERS: Mordecai Heller, Viktor Vasko, Mitzi May, unnamed cameo

PAIRINGS: Mordecai+Viktor

RATING: T for Alcohol, Censored Cursing, and Implication of Violence

GENRE: Fluff, comedy, WAFF

WARNINGS: Contains alcohol.

DISCLAIMER: The "Lackadaisy" webcomic and "Lackadaisy Cats" is created and owned by Tracy J. Butler. I don't own any rights to the Lackadaisy speakeasy, Viktor, Mordecai, or Mitzi. I don't even own so much as one of the beautiful poster prints of the aforementioned characters, as much as I wish otherwise.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Viktor's narration is in perfect English because I don't know enough Hungarian (period or otherwise) to write it in Hungarian, or even Hungarian-English pidgin, and if I did I wouldn't want to limit potential readers to those who know both Hungarian and English. I tried my hardest to confirm that a certain term near the end of the story was period-accurate (along with everything else I wasn't sure of), or at least find a suitable synonym, but the closest I could find was a similar-but-not-identical usage in a dictionary from the 1800s. All the period-accurate terms I could find that had the right sound were deemed likely to break suspension of disbelief more easily than what I used.

"Vodka and ginger beer, I don't want to see another whiskey again tonight." Mitzi was receiving our weekly delivery while Atlas was away on business, and had offered us drinks.

"I shall have soda water."

I shook my head at Mordecai's request. "You are always so strait-laced. Relax. I bet you never drink before."

"Of course not. I do not mind transporting alcohol, but consuming it would risk... untidiness." Mordecai took a sudden interest in the alignment of his cuff links, and I knew that one way or another he would be drinking tonight.

"I make that a real bet. Tonight I pay you three times for every drink you finish." He continued fiddling with his cuff links for a moment, then sighed.

"I'm not doing this to please you. The money you pay me will be vengeance enough for your slight." That was a "slight"? "Mitzi, I would like an alcoholic beverage. A 'bunny hug' sounds innocuous enough for a start, please bring one for me."

Mitzi looked at me, eyebrow raised, and I looked back stone-faced. "If you say so," she said, and turned away to mix the drink. A girl in her twenties sat next to Mordecai while we waited, likely one of his many long-distance admirers whose admiration never survived a first meeting. Mitzi set the bunny hug on the bar, and Mordecai took a tentative sip, not noticing that she then set down a small plate containing an absinthe spoon and a sugar cube, then a deeper sip. I began to warn him that it would be strong, but he interrupted. "I know how much alcohol I should be able to handle. I do work with it all the time, and I'm hardly a lightweight, physically."

He took another sip, again larger than the one before. "I did not expect gin to be quite this bitter. How do your customers find this palatable?"

The girl next to him laughed. "That's only a bit of gin, fella. You're drinking nearly a third absinthe." At that revelation, Mordecai attempted to cough his half-finished swallow back into the glass, and yowled continuously for a short time at the burn of alcohol, juniper, and wormwood coursing through his sinuses. Even with what he choked back up, only two thirds of the drink remained. It was several minutes until Mordecai was able to do anything but heave air out his nose, but by then the drink had begun to take its effect. The girl and I watched while he began staring deeply into the glass, holding it up towards a light, and eventually swigged down another third.

"Viktor, you owe me moooo~ney!" He hiccuped, and turned to the girl. "It's warm in here. Hold my coat." She took his suit jacket with little hesitation.

"Lemme tell you something about my fren' vVviktor." He stared into the glass again, this time from the top. "He's... Have you seen that guy? He's built like a sh*t brickhouse!" Mordecai's hiccup had sounded almost like censorship, and he continued while waving the glass about.

"I mean a sh*t... I mean a brick..." The glass flew from his hand to shatter behind him. "Whoops. I dropped my thing. Where did it-?" Even looking right at her, Mordecai was already too drunk to notice the girl rush away. I had already moved to put a bench between us, though.

"whaWhat was I saying? Oh, Viktor, right, Viktor's greaaat..."His head hit the bar.

"Whaddid I just drink? When do I get my BRaain back?" I slid over another stool, and accidentally caught Mordecai's notice.

"You! You're like a big, a big... I love him. I luvvim like a bruvver. You're like a big puppy, but not dirty 'nuff to strangle. I... Viktor, you... You..." He stood up, and Mitzi went from keeping an eye on us to coming near in case he collapsed. "I..." He grabbed my shoulder, and I knew he wasn't lucid enough for a sock to the face to help. "I... *hurp*!" Before I could move, he vomited into my lap and collapsed across it.

I looked down at Mordecai, looked up at Mitzi's half-shocked, half-jocund face and stared at her with my the most stern expression I could gather. "He never. Threw. Up."

Mitzi nodded and handed me a towel from under the bar. I wiped off myself and Mordecai and dragged him to his apartment, with a short, heavily-bribed stop by the cleaners.