Walking into their usual small, crowded bar, no one paid their peculiar appearance any attention. She loved this bar; the staff never seemed surprised at the state they were in. There were also enough people that you could avoid attention and they served the best whiskey for miles. After spending half the night running round darkened warehouses looking for the Golem who'd been killing homeless people, Zed couldn't help but appreciate the vintage overhead lights that lit up the whole room.
"Right, Zed, you're getting the rounds in. It was your fault Chas died this time."
"But John, I've bought the last 4 rounds!" She whined. She'd been scared to death, ran for her life and seen Chas go through a beating that had cost him another of his lives. She was in no mood to be John's drinking buddy tonight. She just wanted a hot bath and bed.
Zed slumped into a stool with a groan and rested her head against the bar that ran down the entire length of the room. She started to pick up the feelings of the guy that had sat here before, but she squashed down the memories until her mind became quiet again. He didn't realise it but John teaching her how to supress small visions was one of the nicest things he'd ever done for her. But with mind her own again, other feelings started intruding on her consciousness. Every part of her ached. And now the guy who, not over an hour ago, had used her as bait wanted her to fork over her cash so he could get drunk.
"Well then stop getting my oldest friend bloody killed. You know the rules" he said, with a wink, already waving down the bar maid.
Chas walked in, carrying all the bags, not showing any sign of the vicious beating that had cost him 1 of his lives. Which, as John had put it, had actually been her fault. But Chas had gracefully accepted her apology in the car on the way back saying John had killed him before just to end an argument.
"Y'know, my death is worth more than a freakin' coin toss John!" he said, slamming their bags on the side.
"Hey, calm down mate! Remember, you only have to pay if you don't die at all. And if that's not a reason to put those souls to good use, then I don't know what is!" John smiled and clinked the top of his beer bottle against the one in Chas's hand.
"Anyway, I didn't see you complaining when it was my turn" John said, turning to Zed.
"Last I recalled, you ended up dancing on the tables and Chas had to carry you home. Now that was one night I was quite happy to cough up for!" he smiled. He seemed to remember the memory fondly. Zed wondered if it was her dancing or the way he'd teased her in the morning when she'd been hanging out of the toilet.
John was flagging the barmaid down again, smiling at her in a familiar way that Zed was beginning to recognise as the one he gave girls he'd been uh, intimate with. He clearly wasn't after a relationship but for some reason she still smiled at him when he came in, even after he'd left her bed in the small hours of the morning. Zed couldn't help but wonder what kind of miracles he worked in the bedroom to let him off that social faux pas.
"Kelly, 3 beers please and keep 'em coming. TGI-bloody-Friday, eh?" He necked half his bottle and settled into his chair. This was going to be a long one and all Zed wanted to do was go home. But leaving John when he was like this was dangerous. He'd usually end up blind drunk wandering the back alleys of the city. She'd just wait it out and then take him back once he passed out.
"So you guys gonna join in the karaoke then? Boss reckons it'll bring in new customers. " said Kelly, polishing some glasses.
"I think I'd prefer eternal damnation love, if you don't mind. I don't sing"
Well Zed knew that was a lie. She sometimes heard him crooning to himself as he was looking over the ancient books in the Library. She didn't even think he knew he did it. She had to admit though, he was good.
"Well ok, maybe next time!" Kelly threw over her shoulder has she went to serve other customers coming in for happy hour. She always seemed completely immune to Johns' bad manners, always cheerful in the face of his rudeness.
"Not bloody likely" he said into the bottom of his glass.