For OQ Prompt Party #175. s7 setting, cursed Robin (with another name), Seattle university professor, goes out for a drink after a rough day at a bar he usually avoids as he knows many of his students frequent there, making eyes to the 'zesty and feisty' bar owner. When he meets her, he understands why… What he doesn't understand is why his heart flutters the moment she speaks to him nor does she get why a strange tattoo on his arm seems strangely familiar.
This had to be the worst day in Professor Roald Sherwood's professional life.
First, he had been late to his morning lecture on Myths and Legends due to a car crash that had snarled traffic for miles. By the time he got to his classroom, he was a half hour late and so his students had left after waiting the traditional ten minutes—since he wasn't an adjunct. He trudged to his office and apologized to the dean for his tardiness. Thankfully, he wasn't usually late, so the dean was lenient on him.
It ended up being the best part of his day.
He gave a quiz in his British Literature class that proved all of them were woefully unprepared and he laid into them for not reading the assigned material. Some looked sheepish but most just stared at him blank-faced as if he were barmy for even expecting students in a three hundred level class to do the reading. Those expressions all changed when he threw them out of class and warned them that they needed to have the reading done by the next class.
Steamed from that experience, he marched down into his office and found the dean waiting for him again, along with Victoria Tremaine. Her daughter Ivy was in his Literary Writing course, something he could tell her mother was not pleased with but only accepted because it fulfilled the elective credits Ivy needed to graduate. Ivy was a good student, a solid B+, but apparently Mother thought her grades could be better and he was to blame. He had to sit for an hour defending his grading policies to a helicopter parent while his dean sat stony-faced in a corner.
The dean finally said something to end the meeting, promising Victoria that Ivy's grades would improve. He then ordered Roald to give Ivy higher marks, even if she didn't deserve them, because Victoria was a major donor to the university and they didn't want to risk it. Roald had argued about ethics and integrity but the dean was firm.
Roald nearly resigned right there but he managed to keep his anger in control. The last thing he needed was to overreact to one bad day and one bitchy but powerful mother and lose steady employment he usually loved. Besides, he needed the paycheck to keep his apartment—who knew how long it would take to find another job? His savings wouldn't last more than a few months at best.
By the time the sun had gone down and he turned off his office lights, all he wanted was a drink. A really, really strong drink. Maybe two. Heck, it was Friday. He could live a little. Three really, really strong drinks it was.
The campus he was assigned to was near Hyperion Heights, a rather bohemian community Roald was interested in but never really interacted with. Many of his students lived in the area and frequented the local businesses, so he didn't spend time there outside school in order to avoid the awkward encounters with his students.
He really wanted a drink, though, and didn't want to drag himself across town to the bar by his apartment. Roald knew there was a bar not far from the university campus called Roni's. All his students praised it, saying it had the best burgers in town and that the drinks were reasonably priced, even for broke college students. They also spoke about the "feisty" owner, Roni, and her easy-going manner. Many felt comfortable around her and quite a number, both male and female, admitted to being attracted to her.
Roald, though, wasn't interested in Roni. He just wanted something really strong to help him forget what a craptastic day he's had. So he trudges toward the bar, ready to unwind for the weekend.
The sign was lit up in red and green neon, Roni's written in fancy script while arrows decorated it. He thought it was an unusual choice but shrugged it off as he entered the bar, showing his ID to the bouncer. The man nodded, motioning for Roald to pass. Alcohol was in his grasp.
He took a seat at the bar, trying not to make eye contact with any of the students there. If he kept his head down, hopefully they wouldn't spot him or draw attention to him. Roald didn't think he could deal with any reminders of work.
"Well, you're a new voice," a sultry voice said. "What will it be?"
"What do you have on tap?" he asked, eyes still down.
"How about you stop staring at my bar top and glance at the menu over my head?" the sultry voice replied, sounding both annoyed and amused.
Roald did as she suggested, but his eyes never made it past her face. He suddenly felt as if ever romance novel cliché had come true at once. Time seemed stop and a light shown on her as his heart skipped a beat. The sultry voice belonged to an equally sultry woman with sparkling brown eyes which popped with her smoky makeup and beautiful, kissable plump red lips. Her dark hair was cut short and framed her face in frantic but gorgeous curls. She wore a tight black shirt with some band's name on it and he could see the start of her jeans, which no doubt were as tight as the shirt.
No wonder half the student population at the university wanted to have sex with her.
She raised a perfectly sculpted brow at him. "Do you speak? Or are you mute?"
"Sor…Sorry," he stuttered out. "I zoned out there for a moment."
"I see," she replied, smirking as if she knew exactly why he had zoned out. "Happens all the time. But I can't wait all night for your order."
Growing sheepish, Roald finally looked up at her menu. The beer list is quite extensive, both bottled and on tap. Yet his eyes drift over to the mixed drinks menu, each named after various fairytales and legends. That intrigued him. "I like your drink names," he said.
"Thank you," she replied, chest puffing out with pride. "Some students try to make suggestions and insist I need to meet some professor…Sherman, I think. They say he's an expert on these things. Fairytales, legends, myths, I mean. Not booze."
Roald grinned as he leaned back a bit. "Oh, I'd like to think I'm somewhat of an expert on booze too. And it's Sherwood, by the way."
She tilted her head. "Sherwood? As in Robin Hood?"
"Yep," he replied. "I'm from Nottingham too. I'm sure you can imagine the jokes."
"I think I can," she said, a smile toying with her lips. She then motioned to the menu. "So I guess I should make you the Robin Hood, then?"
Something jolted through him at the name. It wasn't the first time. Every time he discussed Robin Hood with his students, something would niggle at the back of the mind, like he was forgetting something. Roald spent hours combing through his notes and lessons, wondering what he might've left out only to find nothing. Yet the way she had said the name of the legendary thief had magnified that feeling and his heart sped up.
He tried to play cool as he took stock of that particular drink—blue curacao, melon liquor, orange juice, lemonade and a touch of grenadine. It seemed like a good starter, so he nodded. "I'll take it."
"One Robin Hood, coming up," she said, moving down the bar to make it.
Roald tried not to follow her with his eyes but he couldn't help it, watching her hands deftly mix his drink while talking with the other patrons. She easily joked with them, her eyes sparkling with laughter as she smiled at whoever she was talking to. He couldn't wait until it was him again.
She returned with his drink, setting it down in front of him. It looked appropriately green and he picked it up, holding it toward her. "To you…"
"Roni," she supplied. "I know I wasn't very creative, naming my bar after myself, but I wanted people to say they were going to Roni's."
He smirked, appreciating her rationale. "Then to you, Roni, and your wonderful bar. Cheers!"
She laughed as he took the first sip. It was a bit sweeter than he usually preferred but he had to admit he liked it. He took another sip, letting the alcohol slid down his throat and start to soothe away the cares of the day. "Thank you," he said.
"You're welcome," she said, pushing away from the bar. "Let me know if you need anything else."
He resisted the urge to say he wanted her to stay, that he wanted to look into her eyes and hear her voice for the rest of the night. Instead, he took another sip and forced himself to pace himself. It wouldn't do to drink too fast and get sick right away.
She wouldn't appreciate it, he knew.
Roald tried to distract himself with the game on the TV or watching the students playing pool, but his gaze always returned to Roni. He was captivated with her and as he finished his drink, had to admit he was absolutely smitten with her already.
God help him.
Roni had seen many customers in her many years as a bar owner. Mostly they were students and some of the residents from the area, all mingling at her establishment which had become the center of their community. Events and protests were often staged within her bar's walls and she gladly helped in any way she could. She had heard every complaint and sob story imaginable, offering a sympathetic ear and a shoulder to cry on. Never before, though, had she felt as pulled to a customer as she was to the professor who had set up camp at the very end of her bar.
He ordered dinner, going with one of her famous burgers and offering up his full name—Roald Sherwood. It seemed appropriately stuffy for a professor yet absolutely inappropriate for him. As such, she had actually taken to calling him "Robin Hood," which seemed more appropriate. She didn't know why, but it felt like she had called him that for far longer than just a few hours.
Robin Hood had surprised her by ordering the Evil Queen cocktail after he finished his first drink. It was something usually ordered by women but he said he was intrigued by it. Roni had to admit it was one of her favorites as she whipped it up, presenting the blood red drink in front of him. He raised it to her again, once more toasting her, before taking a sip. She watched as he took another before nodding. "That's good. The apple juice is a nice touch."
"Thank you," she said. She knew she should move on but she couldn't pull herself away from the man. Her other bartenders could handle the dwindling Friday night crowd.
Roni leaned closer. "So, what brings you to my fine establishment?"
"Proximity and a rather shitty day," he admitted. "I couldn't make it to my usual bar."
"Well, I'm flattered, though sorry you had a bad day. Wanna talk about it?"
He shook his head. "It'll just get me flustered again and that will setback all the good your alcohol has been doing to relax me. Let's just say that Victoria Tremaine is a bitch and leave it at that."
"You'll get no arguments here," Roni said, frowning as she thought of the well-bred brunette who was determined to run her business out of the area in order to gentrify the area and put it in an ultra-sleek bar that would serve overpriced drinks and food that would no doubt pale in comparison to hers. She wasn't going anywhere.
Robin Hood nodded, taking another sip of his fan. "Not a fan either?"
"Not at all," she said. "But if we keep talking about her, I'll need a cocktail."
He smirked, looking far more sexy than he had any right to in her opinion. Leaning back, he unbuttoned his shirt sleeves and rolled them up. "Why don't we talk about something more pleasant than?"
Roni's eyes focused on the tattoo on his right wrist. It was a black shield surrounding a roaring lion, something that looked like it would be on a royal crest or on the shield of a fantasy character. Yet it seemed familiar and something knocked at the back of her brain, as if something was trying to enter her memory. She felt drawn to the tattoo and she brushed her fingers over it, ignoring the jolt of electricity that passed through her.
"Oh, that," he said, smiling sheepishly. "Would you believe alcohol was involved?"
She chuckled. "Yes, but tell me how."
He laughed, leaning forward. "Well, my mates and I decided to get absolutely plastered after our finals one semester and went to a local pub to achieve it. This pub happened to be next to a tattoo parlor…"
Roni cracked open a beer, sipping it as she listened to this buttoned-up professor reveal how he agreed to a tattoo and smiling. It had been a long time since she had been interested in anyone romantically and Robin Hood here wouldn't have normally been her type, but maybe it was time for a change.
Robin Hood ended up staying until she shut down the bar, having some nachos and drinking a beer. He had run up quite the tab but he happily paid it, saying it was actually what he would've paid for a single beer and dinner at his place. When he stood, he was a little unsteady on his feet so Roni insisted on walking him out.
She found a cab for him despite his insistence he could public transit home. As she held open the door for him, she smiled at him. "I hope you come back, Professor. I enjoyed your company."
"I enjoyed yours, milady," he slurred, sending that familiar niggling feeling coursing through her mind again.
He then leaned forward, capturing her lips in a sloppy kiss. Robin Hood pulled back, looking at her with unfocused eyes. "I promise to come back and do that sober."
"You better," she said, pushing him into the backseat. "Go home, drink some water and get plenty of sleep. I'll see you soon, Robin Hood."
"Yes, you will." He winked at her and she shut the door, watching the cab drive away.
Roni didn't know what had just started but she had a feeling it was something that could change her life.
She couldn't wait.