Chapter 13

Amelia
November 9th, 2190

"I can't believe you're making me do this," Miranda protested as I dragged her by the wrist into the nightclub, our heels clicking on the stone floor as we walked through the entrance.

I looked back at my friend with a mischievous smile, "It was this or setting you up on CipritineSingles, your choice."

Miranda stopped resisting immediately, "I choose this. This has alcohol."

I led Miri to the bar with a cackle, flagging down the bartender. "A vodka martini, extra dirty, extra olive, and a bourbon, please."

The bartender, a male turian no older than twenty wearing a fitted suit, nodded back at me, his mandibles spreading in a flirtatious smile, "Coming right up."

Miranda smoothed out her dress and leaned over, getting closer to be heard over the music, "So what are we supposed to do?"

My smile fell, "Hmmm. I don't know. I didn't expect to get this far. Just stand here and look hot, I guess?"

"I supposed that's fine, as long as you don't go to the dance floor."

-0-

As I was about to protest, the bartender returned with our drinks, "Thanks," I said, handing the martini to Miranda and sipping the amber liquid.

An hour later and several drinks in, the alcohol began to affect Miranda, her rigid mask of aloofness slipping.

"How are you not even tipsy?" Miranda asked.

"I haven't been able to get drunk since 2185. I blame you."

Miranda nodded, "Yeah, it is probably my fault isn't it?"

I turned, hiding my victorious smile, shouting over the crowd noise, "Bartender! Another round, please." I turned back, new drinks in hand, surprised to see Miranda engaged in conversation with another patron, happily leaning back against the bar to watch.

"H-hey!" A very disjointed, flanged voice called out as a drunk turian stumbled between Miranda and me.

"Hi," I responded, trying to politely excuse myself from the conversation and walk past the inebriated man.

"I like your clan paint," The man slurred out with a hiccup, "I see you like turians…."

"Mhm," I confirmed, trying to squeeze past him.

"I can show you how a real turian feels…,"

With a sigh, I glared at him, "I've got that covered, thank you," Finally squeezing by.

A hand gripped my wrist from behind, making me drop a drink, "Hey!"

I turned, giving the turian a sweet smile, though my eyes showed nothing but ice, "Take your hand off of me right now, or you'll regret it." The turian didn't listen, instead pulling back to bring me close. The movement was swift, far too fast for the drunk man to counter. In a second, I had him pinned to the bar, holding his arm at the top of its rotation, bending his wrist to exert control.

With the commotion, the bartender had signaled for security, who came and escorted the man away. "Sorry about that, Miss," He said, "The next round is on the house."

"Not the first time. I've dealt with plenty of drunks over the years." I nodded, my smile returning, "Thanks for the drinks."

I turned away and almost walked right into Miranda, who had a wide smirk on her face. "You're right, Ame. This was fun."