For: The lovely and talented Jebbypal
Thank you: Mitchy for the beta of happiness!
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me

1 Shot: White Rum
1 Shot : De Kuyper Crème De Cassis
4 Shots: Pink Grapefruit Juice
4 Shots: Cranberry Juice

"All I'm saying is, you get a shark and I get a cocktail." Bob crossed his arms and sank back into the couch cushion. "It has grapefruit in it, Hector. Pink grapefruit."

Sat at the table, Grey turned his knife to a new nail and commenced further boredom-induced trimming. "I get Betty Blue and you're bitching?"

Hector's smile widened enough to show teeth for a moment. "Pink grapefruit, man. Have some heart." He stretched and glanced at the clock, then the door and then the clock again.

Newspaper rustled as Mack spread the pages over the table, laying out the football scores before him. "Hammer Head's a cocktail too."

"Shooter. It's a shooter . Whole different class." Hector scowled but Bob had learned fast to tell angry from amused in the Unit. Trouble was, there wasn't always much between the two.

The newspaper rustled louder as Mack roughly put it back into shape and flipped it, checking the news now the important part was done. He didn't bother to look up. "It's got Sambuca and strawberries in it, precious."

Hector laughed and shook his head. "And Tabasco sauce. I am all man."

The knife folded with a click and Grey tucked it away. "I'm an obsessive chick with a thing against painting cabins."

Hector nodded with understanding and sympathy and Mack was already looking for the funny pages, but Bob tilted his head and let genuine curiosity show. "What?"

Grey probably didn't care about his call sign any more than the rest of them but Bob had to admire the expression of misery. "It's a French movie. I watched it." His voice turned into a pained, if theatrical, whisper. "I had to know."

"That bad, huh?"

After a few seconds, Grey's expression cleared and he shrugged philosophically. "Better than Sambuca and strawberries."

Hector snorted and tapped the paper in front of Mack's elbow to get his attention. "What about Dirt Diver?"

Mack's elbow batted the offending hand off his paper and then returned to its supporting role. "Damned if I know."

Grey smirked faintly but Bob decided, knowingly. "Probably better that way."

Mack looked up sharply, abandoning the baseball stats. "What?"

"Anything good in play?"

One pair of eyes widened in overdone innocence, the other pair narrowed with sudden focus. "What's a Dirt Diver?"

Grey raised his hands and let them fall. "Nothing, man. I don't know. Seriously."

Mack's glare tracked around the room.

Hector shrugged, Bob followed suit. Grey found something fascinating to look at on the ceiling.

"Tell me or-"

"Betty Blue. Do you seriously think there's anything you can threaten me with?"

Hector waved a hand to head off the challenge and leaned forward. "Okay, Snake Doctor? Something to do with Snake Oil, maybe? Snake charming?"

They sat in silence; possibly as they all considered Jonas' definition of 'charm'. Bob debated with himself for a moment and decided Blane was unlikely to throw anyone out of the Unit for watching the Discovery Channel. "It's a dragonfly. Green. Delicate. Kinda pretty."

They stared. Bob stared back.

The were still staring a few seconds later when Bravo team kicked the door in and started shooting the cut-out bad guys around the room.

Under the cover of gunfire, Hector's grin slowly grew.