Prompt: Whiskey
Word Count: 323
It had been a hard job. He almost hadn't been fast enough to figure out what the mark was doing. He almost hadn't gotten there in time to stop them from kidnapping Parker.
His hand tightened around his beer bottle, threatening to break it all together.
The hitter didn't know what he would have done if they had taken her. The men who had tried to take her wouldn't have gotten away with just injuries like they did today. If they had taken her, he probably would have killed them.
As it was, they had recieved a pretty severe beating. Probably with more force than necessary but messing with the little thief made it personal.
After it was all done, Eliot had come to this hole in the wall bar so he could be alone and lick his wounds, so to speak. He knew no one would bother him here. He could drink his troubles away and try to rein the monster back in.
He took a swig of his beer, wishing he had ordered something stronger.
As if someone had heard his prayers, a shot of whiskey was slid in front of him. He turned to see who had given it to him only to find his thief sitting there with a shot of her own.
She didn't speak, didn't have to. Instead, she raised her shot towards him in some sort of mock toast before downing it without flinching, to his surprise.
The hitter's lips quirked up into a smile as she slammed her glass down and grinned at him, gesturing that it was his turn.
Picking up his glass, he slammed the drink back before signaling the bartender for two more. Parker reached over and stole a swig of his beer before Eliot swatted her away. There was something so normal about it all. For the first time since the ordeal, the hitter felt like everything was gonna be okay.