'Bourbon and-'
'Rum and coke.'
'-rum and coke for the lady.'
'Do you see him?' asked Bonnie, scanning the Mystic Grill with eagle eyes.
'No signs of him yet,' replied Damon, leaning against the bar counter.
Matt's recent evacuation warnings meant the place should've been deserted. But a few brave souls still lingered knowing the new sheriff couldn't round them all up.
'Relax, Bon. He probably went home.'
Damon turned around and took a sip of his drink, only to be greeted by a rather drunken Alaric behind him.
'Still here. Gotta let out all the water at some point,' he said as he stumbled and slouched over a stool. 'Bathroom break,' he reiterated when Bonnie frowned at him.
'Yeah, I got it, Ric,' she replied, glancing at Damon with concern. 'You okay?'
'Peachy. The urinal? Not so much.'
'Okay, buddy. Time to take you home,' said Damon, pulling Alaric up. His gesture of goodwill was returned with a harsh shove into one of the tables.
'No. Get off of me. This is my home. Bartender, fill 'em up.'
Damon lifted a hand to tell Bonnie he was okay after recovering his stance.
'Bartender, don't even think about filling it up,' he scowled, compelling the guy to continue polishing the shot glass. 'You've had enough drinks for one night.'
'Go away, Damon. Go and find a way to bring back Jo. I want Jo.'
'Ric,' started Bonnie, bracing herself for the widower's words of grief. 'It's not that simple. I'm trying-'
'Well, try harder,' he growled, in a fashion similar to Damon. The vampire's influence on him was glaringly obvious in the heat of the moment.
'I can't read the spell-'
'What can you do, Bonnie? All you do is whine and judge. Stop whining and stop judging me.'
Bonnie staggered a little as the words cut like knives. "Vatos."
Alaric's empty glass shattered in a flurry of small, crystal shards.
"You're just a stupid, useless-" he continued, his slurred words coming to an end when Damon's fist shot out and slammed square into his jaw.
