It looked so harmless in the glass, the clear liquid gently fizzing away in his hand, tantalisingly harmless. The tonic water bubbles rise, pushing the ice from side to side gently in the tumbler and coating the slice of lime with tiny balls as it bobs on the surface. Jubal's hand closes around the glass, not raising it from the bar but just cradling it in his hand, watching the bubbles. It could be sparkling water. It could be lemonade. He wished it was either; that he had that kind of self-control. He knew what he should do – put the glass down and walk out of the bar. The little voice in the back of his head was screaming at him to just let go of the glass; he had already lost his wife, his kids. It pleaded with him to not risk his career too – he had barely hung on to that last time around. Without the sobriety, he didn't get to be a Fed, it reasoned. Did he want to be though, came the small hiss from his shoulder – it brought forth the images. Images he had tried so hard to remove from his mind, but had decorated his computer screen and the JOC all day – battered and bruised women, their lifeless and hollow eyes gapping out of the screens. The families sorrow and anger as they sat defeated in their conference room; their sobbing and wails still echoed through the recesses of his mind even now – hours later. His hand tightened on the glass and the cold edge of the glass touched his lips. Tiny specks of the liquid dotted the top of his nose and upper lip as the tonic fizzed, the ice clinking against the glasses rim. One sip and all of the cries and lifeless broken bodies would go away – it would blissfully silent. His resolve breaks and just as the cool liquid collides with his dry lips and threatens to spill into his mouth, a hand settles on his arm.
Startling, he jumps, vodka tonic sloshing sideways over the side of the glass and over his hand and chin, dripping on to the bar below. Grabbing the damp napkin his drink had been on, he presses this to his face, wiping away the droplets from his beard and lips as he turns.
"Oh my god. I'm so sorry for startling you!"
The young man looks mortified as he hovers behind Jubal slightly to his left. His eyes dart to the man's hand still attached to Jubal's arm and the hand is quickly removed. Before Jubal can turn away or say anything the young man continues to speak rapidly, words tripping over each other in his haste,
"I thought maybe you were here for our group…"
He gestures an arm behind him at a small group gathered by the double doors leading to the restaurant seating of the bar. As two scantily-clad women moved from bending over a table just to the left of the doors and moved arm in arm giggling through the doors. Jubal's eyes focused on the sign by the table that they had been obscuring and reading it, his eyebrows raised.
"…I thought I would come and check but its so loud in here and I thought I would just tap your arm and then you moved and… and I've spilt your drink everywhere. Oh god! I'm so sorry, I'm such a clutz! Here… let me…"
Another napkin was shoved at Jubal's hand, knocking his glass again, causing the ice cubes to rattle against the side in protest at the jolting.
"It's okay."
Jubal tries to placate the man, pushing the glass across the bar towards the barman and pressing the napkins to the pool of vodka left in a ring on the bar in front of him. A small flicker of relief fills him as he realises in all of the commotion, not a drop of vodka had passed his lips – just run down his chin and hand.
"It's just… well two of the men haven't shown up and it's going to throw all of the numbers out. We barely have enough men signing up as it is and we've had no walk-ins tonight either. I was kinda hoping you were one of the two missing ones and I'm still talking… Todd get a grip"
The last part of the sentence was quieter as the man berated himself.
"Wouldn't I be too old – isn't there an age limit to these things?"
The words came out of Jubal's mouth before he had a chance to stop them. Sudden hope flickered in to the man's eyes as he recognised a person on the verge of joining.
"Not at all – there is no age limit. You would be amazed how many of the women like an older man – more experienced you know! It would be completely free – of course there is usually a charge but seeing as how we are two short and I've chucked your drink everywhere…"
Between Todd's quick rambling and his insistent hand on Jubal's arm, Jubal found himself swept across the room and filling in his details on the form pushed in front of him. Excuses pushed to the tip of his tongue, yet Todd was barely stopping for breath as he continued to talk,
"It's super easy, all of the women are seated at a table the whole time. You sit across from them and you have 8 minutes with each woman. On the bell you move clockwise around the room – that's to your right each time. The women don't move at all. When you've been all the way around, the whole thing ends. You will have a sort of tick sheet – tick which women you would like to talk with again and give it into us at the end. If you and her sheets match, then we will pass you her phone number and you can contact each other – that simple. Most of them will hang around at the end, get a drink at the bar etc. Obviously, any rude or pervy behaviour and you are out."
A sheet of paper and a pencil is pushed into Jubal's hand as he is guided to a table and pushed into the chair. He turns but Todd is gone again, moving across the room to help another woman discreetly remove a table and two chairs from the circle. Turning away from Todd's disappearing back, he faces the woman sitting across from him. The first thing that he notices is that she's young however this is quickly replaced by the small bemused smile that she is trying to hide behind her hair, which is swinging loose around her face and down her back.
Jubal jumps slightly as a bell sounds from one end of the room and the woman's smile grows into a giggle as his pencil almost rolls off the table with his jolt. It is stopped by a slim hand that darts across the table to grab it before it tumbles to the floor. Voices around them start, the volume growing and growing as seconds pass; odd nervous laughter dotting through.
"Do you want to…?"
Jubal's eyes dart from the pencil clasped firmly in his fingers to the woman opposite as her soft New York accent filtered through the surrounding cacophony of noise. Of course, she was expecting him to speak, his mouth opened and his voice engaged and he started to talk well before he thought of what to say,
"I… uh.. well I'm divorced, got two kids – a boy and a girl. I'm a federal agent and …um a recovering alcoholic. Been sober almost 4 years and almost broke that about 20 minutes ago if uh… Todd hadn't literally bumped into me and somehow got me to agree to this and… and that's… that's more than you needed to know."
Jubal's usually confident voice had been reduced to stutters and stumbling over the words spewing from his mouth suddenly. He trailed off as his brain caught up with him and ducked his head away from the women to look at the label of the bottled water on the table in front of him instead.
"That was honest – don't get a lot of that with these things usually. Mostly posers or men with only one thing on their mind. Well, in the spirit of being honest, I'm single. My last boyfriend cheated on me with most of lower Manhattan – well the ones in skirts anyway and I have a very big weakness for shoes – I buy far too many of them!"
As she talked, Jubal moved his attention from the bottle in front of him up to her face. As she realises she has his attention and made eye contact with him, she smiled. It lights up her face, making her green eyes sparkle and dimples appear in her cheeks. Jubal felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth in return as she continues to speak,
"For the record – I'm pretty sure Todd has bamboozled all of us into one of these things at one time or another. I know most of the girls – there is no need to be nervous, none of us bite. Well… Tanya at table 4 might but she does have a thing for guys with beards so maybe keep the table between you and her."
For the last part she leaned towards him across the table, nodding towards a woman two tables down from them with her head. Bleach blonde, her black dress was so low cut her cleavage was almost falling out of the top and her red nails looks so long they could be claws. Turning his attention away from Tanya, he darted his gaze back to the woman in front of him. She winks conspiratorially before sitting back in her chair again, settling backwards to tip her head to the side to gaze at him,
"How long have you been divorced? This the first time dating after?"
Jubal clears his throat, twirling the pencil around his fingers once before answering,
"Uh… 4 years now. And yeah I suppose this is the first time – work usually gets in the way which is a complete excuse now I'm saying it out loud…"
"Its always tough getting back out there. Tough to realise everything is over and you need to move on – gotta be harder when you have two kids."
Jubal huffs a small laugh as he moves to rub his thumb along his top lip, nodding in agreement.
"Enough about me – what about you. How long have you and your ex been broken up?"
She tilts her head, green eyes flitting over his face and he has the distinct impression that he is being read. The look reminds him of Maggie and Dana when they are trying to figure a perp out. Just as the feeling starts, she flicks a smile and inclines her head – letting him change the subject away from him.
"Two years. Moved in with my sister for a bit while we sold our apartment – would not recommend moving in with siblings again after living on your own – absolute nightmare. Uh… not real excuse for not dating again after only that trusting someone is hard – ya know."
Jubal had just enough time to murmur an agreement when the bell clanged, jerking them out of their little bubble and back into the room. Around them chairs scrapped as the men got ready to move round. Blinking at the sudden stopping, Jubal moves to pick up his piece of paper and pencil as the man to this left starts to move towards their table, his shadow falling over them. Fumbling, Jubal gets a few steps away before her voice stops him, making him turn back,
"Hey – I never got your name."
Turning he gazes at her for a second, before realising that she was right. They hadn't exchanged names.
"Huh sorry, Jubal"
Her smile again lights up her features as he moves back towards her reaching out his hand in an automatic movement. He was so used to immediately shaking people's hands at the Bureau as they exchanged names, that he had started to do the exact same thing. Before, he could over analyse however, a soft warm hand had slid into his.
"Alice"
Her voice answered his as their joined hands squeezed for a second palm to palm before a small cough from the man currently seated at Alice's table caused them to break apart. Alice raised her eyebrows with a small eyeroll as if to say, 'see – poser or player' before turning to sit back down again.
Jubal turned to sit at the next table – facing a young black woman who appeared to be young enough to be his daughter at least. Sighing inwardly, he pushed a smile on to his face as Scarlett introduced herself. This time, he reined himself in with the commentary however, Scarlett didn't seem to need much help with the conversation, filling most of the 8 minutes with words such as 'Tik-Tok', 'Instagram' and claimed herself to be an 'Influencer' whatever one of those was. Scarlett had seemed to think this was impressive, Jubal wasn't sure what one was or how this could "change her life". Jubal just hoped the confusion hadn't shown on his face too much throughout the conversation. The bell could not come fast enough.
The next few tables did not get any better – Elsie decided to tell him all about Ginseng Tea and its wonders of helping with erectile dysfunction. Jubal wasn't sure why Elsie decided to tell him all about this and was starting to get a small complex about his age until Jenna at the next table told him Elsie was telling all of the men this and spent her 8 minutes apologising for Elsie – apparently, they were roommates and good friends. Maria divulged the best way to rear a Labradoodle. This would have been helpful or at least interesting if Jubal knew anything about dogs – he had had a fish growing up for all of a week before it died and was flushed down the toilet. Maria then tried to sell him a Labradoodle and was very insistent even after a very glad Jubal told her his building would not allow pets – yes even very well-behaved ones.
Then came the dreaded woman – Tanya. Jubal was not one to judge, especially on appearances. But he was beyond definitely sure that that level of plastic could not be healthy in Tanya's face… or her chest either. Tanya's hand gripped down on his arm, her talons… sorry nails dug into his skin for the entire time as she pushed her chest into his face and answered all of his polite questions with thinly veiled innuendos and cackling at her own puns. Jubal had never willed a work call to interrupt his night so much since he had joined the Bureau. Thankfully the 8 minutes ended quickly and he was round to the last women – Sheena. Sheena managed to hold a conversation with Jubal for the whole 8 minutes without making him feel old or making him want to run away and hide.
With that people finished filling in their sheets of paper and stood, handing them to Todd and his female minion as some filtered out of the door and the rest moved to order a drink at the bar. He remained seated as Sheena moved away to the bar, staring at his seat of paper. He could safely say no to 6 of the women immediately – yet his pencil hovered over Alice's name. Looking up, he scanned the crowd and found her, standing hip to the bar as she laughed along with something Sheena was miming out beside her. Her brown hair fell down her back, her jeans were tight to her curves but her shirt was looser, draped over her body – hiding her figure. Shaking his head, he turned away muttering to himself 'silly old fool' his pencil moved and marked Alice's section too. What would a beautiful woman like that want with him? Passing his paper to Todd with a nod, he walked out of the bar and into the cool night air, pulling his coat on he turned and headed towards the subway.
Sitting in the subway car however, he pulled out his phone and looked at the screen. No messages, no calls. Shoving the phone back into its holster on his hip, he thought back to the yes tick he had put on Alice's line of his paper. Divorced, alcoholic, bumbling fool - she was probably just being nice and putting him at ease, he thought shaking his head. Idiot he berated himself. Yet, as he walked up the steps and out on to the street again, he thought back to her smile, her sparkling eyes, the way her hand had felt in his.
As he exited his bathroom, his bedroom was bathed in the white light from his phone. Frowning, he moved across the room to where his phone sat on his night stand. Pushing the home button to get the phone to light up again, he saw a message from an unknown number on his screen,
Its Alice. Glad we matched – maybe talk again some time?
Sinking down on to his bed, he stared at the words on his screen and tried to ignore the fluttering in his stomach that the words had created. Maybe not so bumbling after all.