"Wow, what a crowd," Meg gaped as she entered the Officer's Club on
Hawkeye's arm. "Nice digs, too, you wouldn't'a thought from the outside."
Radar, having gone ahead of the two, mingled with the crowd, and within seconds the room was buzzing: "More vampires... glowing eyes... choppers at night..." and some were straining in the crowd to catch a glimpse of the new arrival.
"Yeah, well, we try to keep it a secret," Hawkeye replied, "Who wants to wait in line to get into a place in this weather?"
Sparky, who'd gone to get a drink, was tapping his fingers in wait as he lustily eyed some of the nurses when someone leaned over to him and whispered, "Hey, did you hear? That chick who just walked in with Cap'n Pierce is another one of those vampire things."
Sparky stared. "Another--" he sputtered, then, sighed, trembling a bit, "Oh, boy." He felt much pain looming on the horizon.
Meg, for her part, giggled dorkily over Hawkeye's joke. He shook his head, but couldn't help smiling as he decided to test her a bit, "So. That drink. What'll you have?"
Meg stifled her chuckles and peered at Hawkeye thoughtfully for a second, grinning in a manner that made Hawkeye, under the circumstances, feel a little uncomfortable.
"Well, I'll have whatever you're having, then."
Hawkeye looked a little surprised that she'd accepted his offer, but went over to the bar, determined to call her bluff and root out her vampirehood. "Hey, Charlie, two martinis," he called out, headed over to the bar. Meg kept right up behind him, smiling at the people who stared at her as they parted to let them pass.
Sparky left his drink at the bar a little ways down, and went to urgently tug at Meg's sleeve, who turned in surprise, then resumed her normal pleasant, omnipresent smile, "Oh, Sparky, I'll dance with you in a little, okay? I'm being a good guest to Mr. Pierce, here."
"Just Hawkeye is fine," he reminded her.
"But Meg--" Sparky nearly whimpered.
Her face suddenly grew stern for an instant, and the lad cringed away as if physically stricken. "Yes, ma'am," he groveled.
Meg went back to the conversation, "Excuse him-- I think he's positively smitten with me!" she giggled. "So, what's with the big party, anyhow? Is it McArthur's birthday or something?"
Hawkeye shook his head, "Nope. We're just pouring libations-- down our throats, of course-- for the safe return of our fearless leader. We'd heard he'd died in a plane crash. It turns out we were wrong. Or, rather, un-right."
Meg scrunched up her nose, "Un-right?" she asked.
"Yep. We'd only be wrong if he was alive. He's only undead, so we're only unright." He looked at Meg intently, looking for a hint of acknowledgement.
She watched him in return a second, her face blank as she took in his words. Then she smiled, excused herself, and leaned over around Hawkeye, calling to the bartender, "Better make mine a small one, I think I might have to work tonight."
She then hopped lithely up onto a barstool.
Hawkeye leaned on the bar and said in an accusatory tone, "You're still going to sit there and pretend you can drink a martini with the best of us?"
"Well, I might not be a two-fisted drinker, but I can hold a little bit of the stuff," she rejoined, "You don't have to rub it in."
Hawkeye squirmed in frustration, "You know what I mean."
Meg looked innocent, "No... what?"
"You're a vampire! Vampires can't drink martinis! He tried!"
Meg laughed. "I'm no vampire! There aren't even any such things as vampires. Your Colonel Blake's obviously deranged. And I could say the same of you for believing him."
Hawkeye leaned closer as the martinis were set in front of them. "How did you know I was talking about Colonel Blake?" He looked down at the drink in front of the Scourge, and smirked, "Moment of truth, baby doll. Drink up."
Meg lifted the martini glass awkwardly, obviously unused to handling it. "Moment of truth? I guess so, I've never had a martini before. So, what else do you supposedly know about these alleged vampires?" She lifted the glass, finally, and swallowed its contents. Her eyes grew wide, and she gasped, "Oh! That burns!" She blinked her eyes a few times as if they were watering, then regarded Hawkeye. "Sorry, you were saying?" she grinned, a grin that practically yelled out, 'Gotcha!'
Hawkeye didn't bat an eyelash, "You'll get used to it. You should try our homemade stuff. Hey, another martini here."
~
Radar, having gone ahead of the two, mingled with the crowd, and within seconds the room was buzzing: "More vampires... glowing eyes... choppers at night..." and some were straining in the crowd to catch a glimpse of the new arrival.
"Yeah, well, we try to keep it a secret," Hawkeye replied, "Who wants to wait in line to get into a place in this weather?"
Sparky, who'd gone to get a drink, was tapping his fingers in wait as he lustily eyed some of the nurses when someone leaned over to him and whispered, "Hey, did you hear? That chick who just walked in with Cap'n Pierce is another one of those vampire things."
Sparky stared. "Another--" he sputtered, then, sighed, trembling a bit, "Oh, boy." He felt much pain looming on the horizon.
Meg, for her part, giggled dorkily over Hawkeye's joke. He shook his head, but couldn't help smiling as he decided to test her a bit, "So. That drink. What'll you have?"
Meg stifled her chuckles and peered at Hawkeye thoughtfully for a second, grinning in a manner that made Hawkeye, under the circumstances, feel a little uncomfortable.
"Well, I'll have whatever you're having, then."
Hawkeye looked a little surprised that she'd accepted his offer, but went over to the bar, determined to call her bluff and root out her vampirehood. "Hey, Charlie, two martinis," he called out, headed over to the bar. Meg kept right up behind him, smiling at the people who stared at her as they parted to let them pass.
Sparky left his drink at the bar a little ways down, and went to urgently tug at Meg's sleeve, who turned in surprise, then resumed her normal pleasant, omnipresent smile, "Oh, Sparky, I'll dance with you in a little, okay? I'm being a good guest to Mr. Pierce, here."
"Just Hawkeye is fine," he reminded her.
"But Meg--" Sparky nearly whimpered.
Her face suddenly grew stern for an instant, and the lad cringed away as if physically stricken. "Yes, ma'am," he groveled.
Meg went back to the conversation, "Excuse him-- I think he's positively smitten with me!" she giggled. "So, what's with the big party, anyhow? Is it McArthur's birthday or something?"
Hawkeye shook his head, "Nope. We're just pouring libations-- down our throats, of course-- for the safe return of our fearless leader. We'd heard he'd died in a plane crash. It turns out we were wrong. Or, rather, un-right."
Meg scrunched up her nose, "Un-right?" she asked.
"Yep. We'd only be wrong if he was alive. He's only undead, so we're only unright." He looked at Meg intently, looking for a hint of acknowledgement.
She watched him in return a second, her face blank as she took in his words. Then she smiled, excused herself, and leaned over around Hawkeye, calling to the bartender, "Better make mine a small one, I think I might have to work tonight."
She then hopped lithely up onto a barstool.
Hawkeye leaned on the bar and said in an accusatory tone, "You're still going to sit there and pretend you can drink a martini with the best of us?"
"Well, I might not be a two-fisted drinker, but I can hold a little bit of the stuff," she rejoined, "You don't have to rub it in."
Hawkeye squirmed in frustration, "You know what I mean."
Meg looked innocent, "No... what?"
"You're a vampire! Vampires can't drink martinis! He tried!"
Meg laughed. "I'm no vampire! There aren't even any such things as vampires. Your Colonel Blake's obviously deranged. And I could say the same of you for believing him."
Hawkeye leaned closer as the martinis were set in front of them. "How did you know I was talking about Colonel Blake?" He looked down at the drink in front of the Scourge, and smirked, "Moment of truth, baby doll. Drink up."
Meg lifted the martini glass awkwardly, obviously unused to handling it. "Moment of truth? I guess so, I've never had a martini before. So, what else do you supposedly know about these alleged vampires?" She lifted the glass, finally, and swallowed its contents. Her eyes grew wide, and she gasped, "Oh! That burns!" She blinked her eyes a few times as if they were watering, then regarded Hawkeye. "Sorry, you were saying?" she grinned, a grin that practically yelled out, 'Gotcha!'
Hawkeye didn't bat an eyelash, "You'll get used to it. You should try our homemade stuff. Hey, another martini here."
~