Summary:
[500 word drabble] A brawl in the back alley gets the attention of the friendly bartender.

Also known as: Flash Fiction/Flashfic. 500 words exactly. I used 'drabble' because it's familiar to people.
Rating: K+

Characters: Doyle & unnamed bartender.

The screaming of drunkards echoed throughout the bustling tavern, they were ordering more drinks just to drown themselves in alcohol. Drown away their fading dreams. The kitchen staff were swamped with orders as well, calling on the head bartender for a little help. The bartender, with a sigh of exhaustion, agreed to take out the two trash bags. She kicked open the backdoor, a trash bag in each hand, and slaughtered out into the back alley. The dumpster was only a few feet away, that she was thankful for, as she crossed the alley towards it.

A yelp from her left startled the bartender. She cast her hazel gaze towards the opening of the alley, watching as two men stumbled after a fallen one. It was another brawl, they happened all too often. The bouncer was busy with another one inside the bar, which left it up to the friendly 'tender whether or not to break up this one. It was a toss up, really. She wanted to get back inside quickly, in order to gather more tips.

And, perhaps, the man deserved what he was getting. Either that, or the two bigger men were just bullies.

The bartender hoped that the littler man deserved it. "I really don't want to deal with this," she growled.

She groaned when the man spoke, his accent ringing familiar to her ears.

"Listen, lads." He put up his hands. "I don't want any trouble. I think I told ya' that already."

One of them hissed, "You owe us money still, Doyle."

"And you're gonna pay up," the other finished.

Oh god, they're loan sharks. Some people really need to learn not to mess with them, she thought.

The trash bags dropped to the dirty pavement, clanking loud enough to gather everyone attention. The bartender ventured a guess that there happened to be beer bottles inside the bags as well as trash. She groaned mentally to herself.

"Take your brawls somewhere else." She steeled her gaze on the three men.

One of the bullies frowned upon realizing it was just one of the bartenders. "Stick to your own business, lady."

She raised a brow. "Lady?" she echoed. "This lady is gonna kick your ass if you don't get a move on it."

Doyle raised his hand to the bartender. "Now, now. Let me handle this."

The bartender didn't bother to hide the scoff of skepticism. "You've been handling it quite well, haven't you?" Her gaze flickered to him. "I guess your strategy is to handle it from the pavement, right?"

She had no problem squashing his manhood beneath the heel of her boot. Way to make him feel weak.

The bartender shuffled her way closer to the three, placing a defiant hand on her left hip. "So which one wants to go first?" She frowned with a quirk of her brow.

Friendly bartenders hated playing nasty, but sometimes situations called for it.