Title: Overdone
Author: Evil Little Dog
Rating: Teen
Disclaimer: This is a derivative work, and, as such, I make absolutely no money writing this. Darn the luck.
Summary: Sam's celebrating, right?
Warnings: Drinking (canon-typical)
When you're a spy, you're used to nursing a drink all night. If you have to, you invent ways to get rid of one drink without swallowing much alcohol at all. You must be able to avoid actually becoming drunk.
When you're an ex-Navy SEAL, you drink like a fish.
"Sam, how many mojitos have you had?"
"Not nearly enough, brother." Sam waved at the waitress for another round.
Michael sat down, accepting the mojito. "I suppose there's a reason for the rounds?" He nodded at the empties the waitress took away.
"Mikey, I came into something good." Sam smiled a brilliant smile, reaching across the table to pat Michael on the shoulder.
Michael cocked an eyebrow at the pat, something clicking in his mind. "Oh, your boat came in," he said slowly, testing the waters.
Sam laughed and nodded. "Great big one, you wouldn't believe." Spreading his hands, he waved them for emphasis. "Two smokestacks. Paddlewheeler."
Sam's codes could be easy or difficult. Michael figured Sam's tails for the two guys in grey sitting uncomfortably in the sun, one smoking a cigarette. Paddlewheeler? A car? "So we're celebrating at Carlito's? Sam, we should take this somewhere upscale." Michael tossed some money on the table. "I'm sure Fi could find a date for you."
Sam pointed at him as he scooted his chair back. "Now you're talking, brother!"
And hopefully they'd lose the tail in the Charger and Sam could toss whatever tag they'd put on him. Because Sam's new friends were going to be a real pain if Michael couldn't lose them fast.
"Then let's move out and make some calls."
~ end ~