CHAPTER 15:
((This chapter is right after 14, takes place in the Pogue!))
~~Jordan~~ Dang, there are more people here than there were at the funeral...Dad had better set out the tip jar or he's gonna go flat broke! Speaking of Dad...he'll probably need help tonight...better go play bar- wench so he doesn't go insane!
"Hey Jordan. Glad you could join me."
"Hey Dad. I figured you'll need some bar-help tonight..." I smiled at him as I walked around the end of the bar.
"Sweetheart, Woody was your friend. You should be out there with all of his friends. I can do this without your help..."
"Hey, Max! A couple of darks for us?" Eddie and Peter sat down at the already crowded bar.
I grabbed two glasses and filled them, then set them in front of them. "You were saying Dad?"
"You make tips, that's it." He grinned at me.
"Oh, that's fine with me." I grabbed a few towels and stuck them into my pockets, pretending that they were guns. "On three, we draw."
Garret fought his way through the crowd and squeezed between Peter and Eddie and stuck a twenty on the bar. "Scotch, no rocks."
"That'll be a scotch with no rocks. Would you like to supersize that for free?"
"Yeah, sure, little miss fast-food chain..." He glanced from side to side at Peter and Eddie.
"You guys want anything?"
Peter held up his beer. "I'm good."
"I'm empty." Eddie drained the last of his beer in a single gulp. "Excuse me, Miss, but are refills free?"
"For you...they can be..." I winked at him, then pulled another one out from under the counter and set it in front of him.
"Thanks Jordan." He stood up off his seat and nodded towards the crowd. "I'm gonna go mingle...I'll try and survive." He walked off, and soon disappeared in the throng of people milling about the Pogue.
Garret swiped his stool and glanced over at Peter. "You need a refill yet?"
"Well, Dr. Macy, I--"
He was cut off by Garret's hand. "It's Garret...we're not working...and take off that tie. You don't want to spill on it..."
"Right. Garret. I keep forgetting." He pulled the tie off his neck, and I snatched it from him.
"I'll put this back here." I hung it up on the corner of a sign we had hanging behind the counter. "It'll be safe here."
"Ok, whatever." He glanced over at Garret. "Whiskey shots? On me?"
Garret nodded. "I like your taste Peter...Jordan? You know the drill."
"Two whiskey shots, coming right up!" I turned around and mixed the drinks, then set them in front of them. "Now, I want this to be a good, clean fight, no kicking, no spitting, and no spilling. I aint wiping up your messes."
Garret grabbed his, and nodded at Peter, who did the same. "On three. We draw."
I laughed, then counted to three. "One...two...three!"
Garret threw back his head and pretty much inhaled his, while Peter just slammed his down his throat. They both hit their glasses on the bar at the same time.
"Ooh...tough one...too close to call..."
"I could drink you under the table in ten minutes..." Garret shoved his glass towards me. "Again."
"I can drink you BOTH under the table in five." Nigel stepped forwards and slapped a twenty onto the bar. "Vodka. Straight up. Double shot." He glanced from Peter to Garret quickly. "They don't stand a chance..."
"Give me what he's having." Peter leaned over and looked at Garret. "What's the matter? Afraid you'll be beaten by a rookie and a tall, skinny British freak?"
"I am not a freak! You're the freak Winslow!" Nigel shoved Peter off to the side. "Let the real men handle this one..."
Peter shoved his way back onto his stool. "Then I think you should leave." He smiled at Nigel, to let him know that he was just kidding, and then he looked up at Garret. "So?"
"Double shot, straight up." He placed his hand on his shotglass. "You guys don't know what you're messing with here..."
I laughed to myself as I turned around. This is going to be one interesting night... I slowly poured the drinks, then looked over at Dad, who caught my glance out of the corner of his eye. He walked over to me and pretended like he was getting something off the counter I was standing at.
"Who's your money on?" He winked at me.
"I'd have to say Nigel, but hey, I've never seen Peter get toasted before..."
"Well, as long as they don't puke all over the damn place, keep giving them to 'em, kay sweetheart?"
"Sure Dad, I will." I laughed, then turned around and placed the three shotglasses in front of them. "You do all know, we have work tomorrow..."
"Jordan? Since when have you worried about work?" Peter glanced up at me.
"It's not me I'm worried about...it's you three."
Garret shook his head. "I'll stop myself. If not, I'm sure Max knows a quick cure for the hangover of the year..."
"Yeah, and hell, worse comes to worse, we just let Bug do all the autopsies." Nigel grabbed his glass, then looked around at all of us. "For Woody?"
I nodded, then poured myself a shot. "For Woody."
Garret and Peter raised their glasses with us, and we all drank them in a single gulp. I felt myself wince as it burned down my throat, but I shook it off and set the glass down on the countertop. Damn...that one stung...
"You alright Luv?" Nigel pushed his glass towards me.
"Yeah, just haven't taken a straight shot in a while. I'm out of practice." I grinned at him, as I set the vodka bottle on the countertop. "That stays here, but feel free to refill as often as you'd wish."
"Why thank you, Jordan." Garret reached for the bottle before Nigel could get to it, and he poured himself another shot. "Peter?"
"I think I'll watch this round. I'm gonna throw in the towel." He leaned over and grabbed one of the towels out of my pocket.
"Hey! That's mine!" I snatched at it, but he pulled it back too fast. "Give it back!"
"I will. Let me throw it first." He threw the towel at Nigel. "It's up to you to uphold the underclass of the morgue...godspeed."
Nigel caught it, then handed it back to me. "Be dammed it I don't try Peter. But Garret, he's quite a stiff when it comes to his drinks..." He turned and looked at him. "Again?"
Garret nodded. "Again. This one to...Woody's family."
I nodded, then poured myself another drink as well. "Woody's family."
Garret echoed me, and we all drank our shots, and looked around at each other.
~~Garret~~ Can't believe we're actually doing this...I can tell I'm going to have the headache from hell tomorrow. But, I can't let Nigel beat me for that matter. I'm older...more experienced..." I grabbed for the bottle and refilled both mine and Nigel's glasses again. "You still think you can beat me?"
"Oh yeah. You wait and see." He readily took the glass from me, and downed it in a single gulp.
"I wasn't ready."
"So? Makes it all the more easy for you." He poured himself another. "Ready?"
I nodded, and we both slammed them back down our throats. I wasn't even feeling the burn anymore--that could be a bad thing. What the hell... I thought.
Nigel glanced over at me. "How long you been practicing for this?"
"I honestly wish I wasn't here doing this Nigel." I shifted my gaze to the countertop. "I don't think anyone wishes they were here."
Jordan reached out and took my glass from me, and drank it. "You're getting sentimental. You're done for the night." She reached over and grabbed Nigel's glass too. "That goes for you as well." She drank his, then placed them both under the counter.
"And Luv, that stops me how?" He grabbed the bottle off the counter and took a swig off of it, then passed it to Garret. "For you?"
I grabbed it from him, and took a long drink. "For me."
"Come on guys, don't do this." She grabbed the bottle back as well, and replaced it with three beers. "This'll take longer to get you sick."
We sat and talked for hours, pausing long enough for Jordan to mix a quick drink, take a break, or just wipe away a few stray tears. We all had them, at one time or another. Max got up and made a toast, which lead to a frenzy of toast-making, by many of Woody's good friends in the department, his parents, and of course, Nigel. His was quite interesting...very detailed description all about Woody's inner character...don't know how he did it, without falling off the stool he was propped up on though. The last thing I remember about the whole night was Jordan grabbing my keys and shoving me towards the corner of the Pogue that had a bunch of couches in it...the "lounge area"...or something like that.
***THE NEXT MORNING, 8 AM-ish***
((still Garret's P.O.V.))
I groggily opened my eyes and felt the room spin underneath me. I quickly shut them, and I rolled over and grabbed onto the couch cushions to try and "steady" myself. I had no idea where I was, how I got there...or who's couch I was on. I felt someone grab my shoulder, and I heard a voice calling my name...I couldn't even figure out who it was, until they shook me to try to wake me up.
"Garret...Garret...you alive in there?"
Jordan. That's who it was. Why was Jordan trying to wake me up? I didn't want to wake up...not for a very very long time anyways.
"Garret. Wake up." She shook me again.
"What do you want?!" I rolled back over, nearly falling off the couch in the process, until I felt her grab me and keep me from falling.
"Well, if you must know, I was checking to be sure you're still breathing."
I weakly opened one eye and smiled at her, then the room started to spin again. "God...damn...am I at the Pogue?" I shut my eye and sank back into the couch.
"Yeah, you're here. You, Nigel, Eddie, Peter...we had a sleepover party."
"Your Dad let us stay here?" I slowly pulled myself up to a sitting postion, then I let my head fall back and I breathed in deeply, trying not to be sick.
"He made you stay here. Well, at least you and Eddie anyways..."
"What about Nigel and Peter?" I looked at her. Okay...spinning room is stopping...
"They got back into their little drinking game...Peter lost, by one shot, then went and puked his guts out in the bathroom for about an hour. He passed out cold on the floor next to the toilet...Eddie walked in and found him." She smiled at me, trying not to laugh.
"And Nigel?" I looked up at her, afraid of what she was going to say.
"Well, I had to beat him off me with a stick. He claimed that I was the 'hottest damn thing to walk the face of the Earth' then tried to kiss me a few times."
"Nigel did?" I glared over at him, asleep on the floor.
"Yes, but I managed to fend him off, don't worry." She grinned at me. "After I wouldn't kiss him, he went over and fell asleep on that couch. He fell off sometime last night."
I looked up at her. "No secrets for your 'bestest girlfriend'?"
"Despite the fact that you make a very amusing drunk, no."
"Was I that bad?" I could see it now...spreading like wildfire around the morgue... Garret makes ass of himself...with pictures!
"You were fine. You just tried to play pool against Eddie. Which was amusing, to say the least."
"No pictures?"
She shook her head. "No pictures. Want painkillers?" she handed me a bottle of beer and three Excedrin.
I took them willingly, and nodded. "Peter still alive?"
"He was breathing when Eddie pulled him out of the bathroom. We set him over there on the couch, he hasn't moved since. I think Nigel's a bad influence on him." She glanced over at them and shook her head.
"Give him time...he'll be able to beat Nigel soon enough." I swallowed the pills then took a slow drink off the beer. "Bug call?"
"Yeah, he was wondering when you were coming into work."
"Tell him later...way later..." I leaned back on the couch again, and felt myself falling asleep.
"I will Garret. Have a nice nap."
"Uh huh..." I drifted off to sleep and was soon thrown into one of the weirdest dreams of my life....
TO BE CONTINUED:
***Thanks for reading, I'll post more when I have time!***
((This chapter is right after 14, takes place in the Pogue!))
~~Jordan~~ Dang, there are more people here than there were at the funeral...Dad had better set out the tip jar or he's gonna go flat broke! Speaking of Dad...he'll probably need help tonight...better go play bar- wench so he doesn't go insane!
"Hey Jordan. Glad you could join me."
"Hey Dad. I figured you'll need some bar-help tonight..." I smiled at him as I walked around the end of the bar.
"Sweetheart, Woody was your friend. You should be out there with all of his friends. I can do this without your help..."
"Hey, Max! A couple of darks for us?" Eddie and Peter sat down at the already crowded bar.
I grabbed two glasses and filled them, then set them in front of them. "You were saying Dad?"
"You make tips, that's it." He grinned at me.
"Oh, that's fine with me." I grabbed a few towels and stuck them into my pockets, pretending that they were guns. "On three, we draw."
Garret fought his way through the crowd and squeezed between Peter and Eddie and stuck a twenty on the bar. "Scotch, no rocks."
"That'll be a scotch with no rocks. Would you like to supersize that for free?"
"Yeah, sure, little miss fast-food chain..." He glanced from side to side at Peter and Eddie.
"You guys want anything?"
Peter held up his beer. "I'm good."
"I'm empty." Eddie drained the last of his beer in a single gulp. "Excuse me, Miss, but are refills free?"
"For you...they can be..." I winked at him, then pulled another one out from under the counter and set it in front of him.
"Thanks Jordan." He stood up off his seat and nodded towards the crowd. "I'm gonna go mingle...I'll try and survive." He walked off, and soon disappeared in the throng of people milling about the Pogue.
Garret swiped his stool and glanced over at Peter. "You need a refill yet?"
"Well, Dr. Macy, I--"
He was cut off by Garret's hand. "It's Garret...we're not working...and take off that tie. You don't want to spill on it..."
"Right. Garret. I keep forgetting." He pulled the tie off his neck, and I snatched it from him.
"I'll put this back here." I hung it up on the corner of a sign we had hanging behind the counter. "It'll be safe here."
"Ok, whatever." He glanced over at Garret. "Whiskey shots? On me?"
Garret nodded. "I like your taste Peter...Jordan? You know the drill."
"Two whiskey shots, coming right up!" I turned around and mixed the drinks, then set them in front of them. "Now, I want this to be a good, clean fight, no kicking, no spitting, and no spilling. I aint wiping up your messes."
Garret grabbed his, and nodded at Peter, who did the same. "On three. We draw."
I laughed, then counted to three. "One...two...three!"
Garret threw back his head and pretty much inhaled his, while Peter just slammed his down his throat. They both hit their glasses on the bar at the same time.
"Ooh...tough one...too close to call..."
"I could drink you under the table in ten minutes..." Garret shoved his glass towards me. "Again."
"I can drink you BOTH under the table in five." Nigel stepped forwards and slapped a twenty onto the bar. "Vodka. Straight up. Double shot." He glanced from Peter to Garret quickly. "They don't stand a chance..."
"Give me what he's having." Peter leaned over and looked at Garret. "What's the matter? Afraid you'll be beaten by a rookie and a tall, skinny British freak?"
"I am not a freak! You're the freak Winslow!" Nigel shoved Peter off to the side. "Let the real men handle this one..."
Peter shoved his way back onto his stool. "Then I think you should leave." He smiled at Nigel, to let him know that he was just kidding, and then he looked up at Garret. "So?"
"Double shot, straight up." He placed his hand on his shotglass. "You guys don't know what you're messing with here..."
I laughed to myself as I turned around. This is going to be one interesting night... I slowly poured the drinks, then looked over at Dad, who caught my glance out of the corner of his eye. He walked over to me and pretended like he was getting something off the counter I was standing at.
"Who's your money on?" He winked at me.
"I'd have to say Nigel, but hey, I've never seen Peter get toasted before..."
"Well, as long as they don't puke all over the damn place, keep giving them to 'em, kay sweetheart?"
"Sure Dad, I will." I laughed, then turned around and placed the three shotglasses in front of them. "You do all know, we have work tomorrow..."
"Jordan? Since when have you worried about work?" Peter glanced up at me.
"It's not me I'm worried about...it's you three."
Garret shook his head. "I'll stop myself. If not, I'm sure Max knows a quick cure for the hangover of the year..."
"Yeah, and hell, worse comes to worse, we just let Bug do all the autopsies." Nigel grabbed his glass, then looked around at all of us. "For Woody?"
I nodded, then poured myself a shot. "For Woody."
Garret and Peter raised their glasses with us, and we all drank them in a single gulp. I felt myself wince as it burned down my throat, but I shook it off and set the glass down on the countertop. Damn...that one stung...
"You alright Luv?" Nigel pushed his glass towards me.
"Yeah, just haven't taken a straight shot in a while. I'm out of practice." I grinned at him, as I set the vodka bottle on the countertop. "That stays here, but feel free to refill as often as you'd wish."
"Why thank you, Jordan." Garret reached for the bottle before Nigel could get to it, and he poured himself another shot. "Peter?"
"I think I'll watch this round. I'm gonna throw in the towel." He leaned over and grabbed one of the towels out of my pocket.
"Hey! That's mine!" I snatched at it, but he pulled it back too fast. "Give it back!"
"I will. Let me throw it first." He threw the towel at Nigel. "It's up to you to uphold the underclass of the morgue...godspeed."
Nigel caught it, then handed it back to me. "Be dammed it I don't try Peter. But Garret, he's quite a stiff when it comes to his drinks..." He turned and looked at him. "Again?"
Garret nodded. "Again. This one to...Woody's family."
I nodded, then poured myself another drink as well. "Woody's family."
Garret echoed me, and we all drank our shots, and looked around at each other.
~~Garret~~ Can't believe we're actually doing this...I can tell I'm going to have the headache from hell tomorrow. But, I can't let Nigel beat me for that matter. I'm older...more experienced..." I grabbed for the bottle and refilled both mine and Nigel's glasses again. "You still think you can beat me?"
"Oh yeah. You wait and see." He readily took the glass from me, and downed it in a single gulp.
"I wasn't ready."
"So? Makes it all the more easy for you." He poured himself another. "Ready?"
I nodded, and we both slammed them back down our throats. I wasn't even feeling the burn anymore--that could be a bad thing. What the hell... I thought.
Nigel glanced over at me. "How long you been practicing for this?"
"I honestly wish I wasn't here doing this Nigel." I shifted my gaze to the countertop. "I don't think anyone wishes they were here."
Jordan reached out and took my glass from me, and drank it. "You're getting sentimental. You're done for the night." She reached over and grabbed Nigel's glass too. "That goes for you as well." She drank his, then placed them both under the counter.
"And Luv, that stops me how?" He grabbed the bottle off the counter and took a swig off of it, then passed it to Garret. "For you?"
I grabbed it from him, and took a long drink. "For me."
"Come on guys, don't do this." She grabbed the bottle back as well, and replaced it with three beers. "This'll take longer to get you sick."
We sat and talked for hours, pausing long enough for Jordan to mix a quick drink, take a break, or just wipe away a few stray tears. We all had them, at one time or another. Max got up and made a toast, which lead to a frenzy of toast-making, by many of Woody's good friends in the department, his parents, and of course, Nigel. His was quite interesting...very detailed description all about Woody's inner character...don't know how he did it, without falling off the stool he was propped up on though. The last thing I remember about the whole night was Jordan grabbing my keys and shoving me towards the corner of the Pogue that had a bunch of couches in it...the "lounge area"...or something like that.
***THE NEXT MORNING, 8 AM-ish***
((still Garret's P.O.V.))
I groggily opened my eyes and felt the room spin underneath me. I quickly shut them, and I rolled over and grabbed onto the couch cushions to try and "steady" myself. I had no idea where I was, how I got there...or who's couch I was on. I felt someone grab my shoulder, and I heard a voice calling my name...I couldn't even figure out who it was, until they shook me to try to wake me up.
"Garret...Garret...you alive in there?"
Jordan. That's who it was. Why was Jordan trying to wake me up? I didn't want to wake up...not for a very very long time anyways.
"Garret. Wake up." She shook me again.
"What do you want?!" I rolled back over, nearly falling off the couch in the process, until I felt her grab me and keep me from falling.
"Well, if you must know, I was checking to be sure you're still breathing."
I weakly opened one eye and smiled at her, then the room started to spin again. "God...damn...am I at the Pogue?" I shut my eye and sank back into the couch.
"Yeah, you're here. You, Nigel, Eddie, Peter...we had a sleepover party."
"Your Dad let us stay here?" I slowly pulled myself up to a sitting postion, then I let my head fall back and I breathed in deeply, trying not to be sick.
"He made you stay here. Well, at least you and Eddie anyways..."
"What about Nigel and Peter?" I looked at her. Okay...spinning room is stopping...
"They got back into their little drinking game...Peter lost, by one shot, then went and puked his guts out in the bathroom for about an hour. He passed out cold on the floor next to the toilet...Eddie walked in and found him." She smiled at me, trying not to laugh.
"And Nigel?" I looked up at her, afraid of what she was going to say.
"Well, I had to beat him off me with a stick. He claimed that I was the 'hottest damn thing to walk the face of the Earth' then tried to kiss me a few times."
"Nigel did?" I glared over at him, asleep on the floor.
"Yes, but I managed to fend him off, don't worry." She grinned at me. "After I wouldn't kiss him, he went over and fell asleep on that couch. He fell off sometime last night."
I looked up at her. "No secrets for your 'bestest girlfriend'?"
"Despite the fact that you make a very amusing drunk, no."
"Was I that bad?" I could see it now...spreading like wildfire around the morgue... Garret makes ass of himself...with pictures!
"You were fine. You just tried to play pool against Eddie. Which was amusing, to say the least."
"No pictures?"
She shook her head. "No pictures. Want painkillers?" she handed me a bottle of beer and three Excedrin.
I took them willingly, and nodded. "Peter still alive?"
"He was breathing when Eddie pulled him out of the bathroom. We set him over there on the couch, he hasn't moved since. I think Nigel's a bad influence on him." She glanced over at them and shook her head.
"Give him time...he'll be able to beat Nigel soon enough." I swallowed the pills then took a slow drink off the beer. "Bug call?"
"Yeah, he was wondering when you were coming into work."
"Tell him later...way later..." I leaned back on the couch again, and felt myself falling asleep.
"I will Garret. Have a nice nap."
"Uh huh..." I drifted off to sleep and was soon thrown into one of the weirdest dreams of my life....
TO BE CONTINUED:
***Thanks for reading, I'll post more when I have time!***