Participants:
| Scene Title | One Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila Floor. |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Cops are drinking on Staten Island, some not cops, and some teenagers. |
| Date | April 26, 2009 |
A place that used to be a cafe and is making a slow progression towards being a dive bar. During the day, the balcony and a good portion of the sidewalk is taken up by outdoor chairs and tables, where people can enjoy a beer as well as a sandwich or whatever else is on their menu - a decent, if simply array of bar food. During the evening, unless it's a warm night, these are taken inside, and the kitchens are closed. A wide variety of beer is available, along with hard liquor and maybe a few wine labels, but nothing fancy. The interior decor is similar to traditional British pubs, with a hardwood bar and brick wall. There's an old pool table towards the back, along with a dart board. The building is actually two storeys high, but whatever is upstairs is inaccessible to the general public.
It's going to turn into evening soon on Staten Island. The lights will all come on, and the shift from not so terribly dangerous will happen and the Rookery will turn into extremely dangerous is your a woman alone. Usually. Tonight is likely going to be no different even as the moon starts it's near hidden ascent into the sky and the sun's down near the horizon, likely to disappear in the blink of an eye if your not paying attention. Shooters is alive an well though, as in the back of the bar there's two people, Terry, Murdoch and Minea, slamming down the namesake of the bar on a table then quickly sucks on a wedge of lemon. Getting a start on the night it seems. "fuuuuck. I'm going to be plastered" Spoken to the two other men. It's some sort of drinking game. Maybe. Or just a reason to enjoy oneself without needing to check their behavior as they might in some other bar on the mainland.
It's not often that Murdoch is asked out for drinks by a peer. Then again, most of his peers for the past years have been restricted to grounds, so who's to say he wouldn't have been partying with the best if he'd been outside? The shot goes down hard, though, as it will when one's best drinking days are behind one, and he pulls a long face one usually doesn't associate with pleasure. He gives his head a sharp shake. "Good /God/," he says, dropping the battered lemon rind back in the shotglass, "How is it we won the Mexican war against people who drink /this/?" One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor.
Cardinal has arrived.
Things can get pretty hectic for someone living in the Lighthouse. There are just so many - kids - there. It's not that Simon doesn't like hanging out with them or anything. He just needs some time alone. That's what leads him to Shooter's tonight. That and he wants to try and get a game of pool in if he can.
The door to the bar opens on squeaking hinges and the teen heads inside. He already knows the layout of the place, so it doesn't take him long to wander over to the bar and lay his claim to an open spot. "Can I get a beer?" he asks the bartender without specifying what kind. He likes surprises.
While he waits, Simon turns and lets his eyes scan the room. It's still in the process of getting busy, the bar, so he has no trouble spotting the crowd with a table full of shots. He grins at the camaraderie, thoughts going back to High School. They don't linger there long, though, because Simon won't let them, and also because he happens to recognize Minea. That woman is everywhere.
Sitting on the other side of Murdoch, looking across the table at Minea, Terry has a glass of dark beer, the liquid sloshing around, covering up about half of a dirty looking glass. On the table in front of him is a shot of tequila, untouched. He chuckles at Minea, and then glances over at Murdoch. "We didn't challenge them to a drinking game." He grins, and then raises the glass of beer. "So, here's to smart choices."
Tucked off into whatever qualifies as a 'quiet' corner in Shooters sits a girl with slightly slumped shoulders hidden beneath a hoodie and hellbent on bothering her blue heaven cocktail by constantly stirring it with the little plastic sword that came with it which once impaled a chunk of pineapple. Yeah. Don't tell anyone but… they totally make queer and girly drinks here. But, only if you ask real nice.
Bebe's balancing one of her rounded cheeks thoughtfully against the curled fist of her unoccupied hand and watches the small crowd of cops knock back booze in a preemptive strike on happy hour.
"I think Murdoch. That it's because we weren't drinking it. Is why" So far Minea hasn't seen Simons entrance into the bar or heard him yet and Bebe was noted a while back. She's not on high alert, zone in on everyone as they come in. She's here to relax. The tequila bottle is upended, just enough to refill Murdoch's little glass and her own. Another round senor! her tapered fingers pick up her shooter and holds it aloft to clink mercilessly again Terry's dark beer. "To smart choices! May we forever make them. And may they always succeed!"
"The supposed wisdom that comes with age is really just fatigue," Murdoch opines, flicking the rim of his shotglass with a fingernail, "It's why all the quote wise unquote old people are so frail. They're just too tired to do anything stupid." He tips an invisible hat to Minea as she refills the glass, the bubbles of caught air clinging to the pulpy lemon remnant. "Cheers," he remarks, dryly, and then kicks back the next shot. Instead of slamming it, he sets it down delicately. An eye swoops the room, and he comments in a low voice, so only his compatriots can hear him, "I have to find a way to turn off my 'cop vision'. I'm always looking for a goddamn perp, and that get's distracting on the Island."
The bathroom's swinging door crashes open abruptly, and Richard Cardinal falls back through it to hit the floor on his back — one hand gripping the lapels of a flannel-wearing, shaggy sonuvabitch as he drags him down with him, both legs kicking up as he rolls fully back to send the other man flying, where he promptly crashes into a table. Which breaks in half beneath the big guy's weight, sending him and the craptastic wood construction to the floor. The knife that was in his hand goes skidding away to land under the cops' table.
"Motherfucker," Cardinal growls under his breath as he rolls swiftly back up to his feet, backing up a couple steps and panting for breath as he watches to see if the guy gets up, "Try to fuckin' stab me in the John, Jesus fuckin' Christ…" There's a cut through the side of his jacket, but it seems it didn't reach skin.
Fortunately, the would-be mugger doesn't get back up yet. Must've hit his head falling.
The sound of a beer bottle tapping against the countertop behind Simon causes the kid to turn and reach out for the brew. There's a sly smile on his face as he raises the bottle to the tender and thanks him. It's cold, with little wisps like smoke coming out of it. He puts the bottle to his lips and takes a sip. Good stuff. He's about to enjoy a longer pull from it when -
- Cardinal comes crashing into the room and onto the floor. Simon whirls, coughs as some beer gets caught in his throat somehow, and watches the end of the fight. It takes him a moment to realize what happened, but when it's all over his eyes are glued on Cardinal."Shit," he mutters as he pushes himself off from where he was leaning against the bar. He takes this moment to swig some beer and head closer to Cardinal.
As the knife goes sliding across the floor, Terry's eyes go from his beer and his companions to the man flying out of the bathroom. He glances at Murdoch, and then back over towards the fighting pair as the table shatters, and the knife goes skidding across the floor. Calmly, he moves one foot out and steps on the handle of the knife, and then reaches down, picking it up and putting it on the table. He shakes his head, and then glances over towards Cardinal again. "I know what you mean, man," Terry says towards Murdoch. "But it's not like the locals aren't giving you an excuse." It looks like he's content to play spectator, for now.
Murdoch arches a single brow as Cardinal and his assailant hurtle into the main room of the bar. As the flannel wearing mugger hits the table with a satisfying crack, and then lies still, the older cop lifts his hands and politely applauds. "They seem to be able to take care of themselves, at least," he says, with a thin smile, "May I?" he says, indicating the knife, though he doesn't wait, reaching out to takes it up by the blade, carefully. He gives a crooked grin, and offers the handle to Minea, "A trophy for m'lady? Won in glorious combat." he says.
Mallory has arrived.
I hear you. That's Minea's silent reply. Not vocal cause out here? Out here she's just a secretary with the misfortune of living out here, and someone who dabbles in art. One high heeled boot attempts to come to rest on the knife under the cop table, automatically, without thinking. Terry beats her too it, though Murdoch's handing it over to her. "Too bad there's no ambulances here. Coconut Joe over there looks like he might be out for the night." oh look. Simon's there and near Bebe. The brunette raises her brows, head cocked. Kid. In the bar. Well, it's Staten Island. they don't care about age here. She looks away though, studying the hooker next as she licks the salt on her hand, throws back the tequila and sucks the lemon once again. With knife in hand still. "A knights Favor it seems. I'll frame it, put it on my wall"
A pair of burly biker-looking fellows step over, grab hold of the flannel-wearing fellow and haul him up to drag towards the door. They could be bouncers planning to toss them out into the street, or they could just be planning to rummage through his pockets and toss him into the bay. Whichever it is, none of the regulars seem to particularly care.
Cardinal cracks his neck to one side, then the other, shoulders rolling back as he burns out some of the adrenaline by fidgeting so — bouncing on the balls of his feet a moment before heading to cross to the bar, his head shaking slowly from side to side. "Hey, kid," he offers with a jerk of his chin towards Simon, "'Sup?"
Yes, Simon is an 18-year old kid at a bar, which just goes to show you how liberal Staten Island really is. It's like Europe up in here. He eyes the downed man in flannel as he's carried off, stopping since Cardinal is heading his way anyways. "Way to make an entrance," he tells the older man dryly, turning to follow him to the bar with a glance thrown to Minea and the men at her table.
"That happen often around here?" He clearly doesn't come to Shooter's enough. When he reaches the bar he takes to leaning against it again. His beer is brought to his lips and some more of the frothy beverage is downed. He's trying his best to look cool.
Mallory flattens herself against the outside wall as the guy in the flannel shirt gets dragged past her. She gives the entrance a sour look, jamming her hands into her pockets as she slips inside and has a furtive glance around. Mallory is not comfortable here. It's plain to see from the set of her shoulders. She's looking for Simon, though, and there he is by the bar thinking he's all cool. She heads that way at a determined stomp.
"Precisely," Murdoch grins at Minea, "I'm a regular Parzival. My hereditary office is the shield." He taps his breast, then his temple, "Oh… goddamn but that stuff makes a full frontal assault. Forgive me, from this point on, if I say or do anything untoward." His gaze shifts around the bar again, to the brawler, to the too-young man, to the hoodied young woman. "The good news is that my radar's starting to get fuzzy. I think we may have discovered the cure to law and order. Turns out it's just what we suspected: alcohol."
"Wait till you see the hookers in an hour. That, that's just childs play. Occasionally Happy Daggger's employee's come over. But there's some independents that run around and the fights start. It's an interesting atmosphere around here and don't worry Murdoch, i'll forgive you. I'll also make you pay for the next bottle" Oh yes it is and yes she will. Richard's approaching Simon, and then there's a second person. Mallory. "Oh look. Kindergarten started"
"Eh, occasionally some idiot gets the idea he can score some easy cash with a knife," Cardinal replies with the shrug of someone used to evading muggings — he must come from this part of town, with that blase an attitude. Or else he's putting on a show for Simon, hard to say without knowing him better. A hand lifts in a vague gesture to the bartender, offering in absent tones, "Beer."
The thief cranes his neck then to look to the door and watch the would-be mugger get dragged out, noting mildly as his fingers curl about the cold beer bottle slid down to where he's standing, "Some pissed-off lookin' brunette's coming your way, kid."
Terry smirks towards Minea, and laughs at Murdoch's gift. "Not bad, even without the shining armor." He glances at Mallory, considers her for a moment, and then turns his attention on the younger patron of the bar. He looks thoughtful for a moment, and then raises an eyebrow at Minea's second statement. "Kindergarten?" he wonders, and then takes another sip of his beer. "Odd word for it," he adds.
They don't card on Staten Island any more… though, really, did they ever? And, what are the odds that any of the underage patrons in here haven't manages to scrounge up some form of fake ID? Bebe's got herself a whole heap of fake paperwork — from birth certificate to citizenship papers to her very own social security number lifted from a baby girl who only had the strength to suck in oxygen for six sad days — to round out her entirely fake life surrounded by fake people. Fake sinners and fake saints.
The misplaced whore bounces her big, brown eyes from one unfamiliar face to the next until they finally come to rest on Cardinal, lingering somewhere on the back of his neck, focusing fuzzy at a point below his left ear.
"Huh, I can't say I'm surprised," Simon says as he turns to lean back against the bar so that he can get a good view of what's going on in the room. More beer is drunk and the cold liquid calms him, already starts to numb him. He's still a lightweight.
The second comment Cardinal makes causes the kids brow to arch up quick. "Really?" he says with genuine surprise. He only has to wonder who it could be for a moment, because on turning his head he spots Mallory instantly. Crap, he's about to get all sorts of hell.
"Underaged, underaged" Minea's finger pointing discreetly to either teenager. "Half my age at least, maybe a little less. Kindergarten. They're still in diapers to me. Wonder if he's the teacher" Another discreet gesture to Cardinal. "Simon, i've run into him a few times" That should mean something to Terry. "The other one" A gesture to Bebe. "I think she works at the happy dagger. Don't quote me on it"
Mallory comes to a halt in front of Simon, hands coming out of her pockets so she can fold her arms across her chest. She sucks in a breath and eyes the people nearby with a sort of defiant look that's really, really going to get her in trouble around here one day. "I can't believe you," she hisses at Simon.
"I imagine one grows up quickly here," Murdoch says, "And with that bit of wisdom…" he pauses, "I just avoided a pun. Ahem. I need to excuse myself." He gets up brushing off the front of his jacket in a fastidious gesture that indicates he's drunker than he planned on being. He catches Minea's indicators, taking note before setting a laboriously straight path to the bathrooms. Let's hope Cardinal's cleared out all the knife weilding muggers in there. Let's hope there hasn't been escalation, and that a guy won't ambush him with an Uzi at the urinal.
One never knows. Maybe some rubber-boned Evolved has squeezed up through the toilet and is waiting with a chainsaw. Stranger things have happened, here on Staten! Perhaps the worst result may be that there won't be any muggers, though, and he'll have to use the facilities that, needless to say, could be cleaner.
"Oh, look at the time…" As the girl hisses at her… brother? Seems likely, they look very similar… Cardinal turns on his heel to head along over and find a table, leaving Simon to whatever horrible fate is planned for him. The cap's twisted off his beer, his gaze absently roaming over the innards of the seedy bar to check out the inhabitants with casual disinterest, without his shades for once. Maybe they got smashed in the bathroom, or otherwise lost.
"What are you talking about?" Simon says, eyes guiltily glancing over to the bottle he's holding. He quickly sets it on the counter as if it isn't his, and then turns his head to look for Cardinal. Oh, he's left him. Now he's all alone with sister, which wouldn't normally be so bad if she wasn't huffing and puffing at the moment. "And what are you doing here? It's - dangerous, you know."
Mallory glances over at Cardinal's back as he heads away, eyes narrowing further. "Is it?" she demands quietly of Simon. She's not making a scene here. Just a friendly conversation! With scowls. "Of course it is. Which is why I have to wonder why the hell you come here. It's like you want to end up mugged." Or worse.
Murdoch emerges, none the worse for wear despite the horrors he faced in the restroom. He shakes the last few drops of water from his hands that the fire-hazard of a air drying didn't manage to get, and surveys the room. Instead of joining his comrades straight away, he makes his way over to Bebe's corner, hands clasped behind him. He dips his head by way of greeting, "Excuse me," he says, "May I buy you a drink?" That's what one does is bars, right? Last he checked, one bought people drinks, even if 'people' is only oneself.
Terry mouths a quiet 'ah,' to himself, and then nods. "Maybe he is," he says, chuckling. He raises an eyebrow, and then says, "a few times? Should I worry about him coming to visit?" He adjusts the way he's sitting at their table, and moves his beer from his right to his left hand. He unzips his coat, and then says, "kinda hot in here, hmm? I suppose I should expect something like air conditioning out here, though."
"Maybe. Maybe he'll visit. Bring that girl with him" More veiled words. Double meanings. "They look related, or is that just me?" Lick, salt, lick again, tequila, lemon. "We can take off if you want, Leave Murdoch to chat up the ladies. Come back and fetch him after" Minea's not in the state that Murdoch is. She can't afford to be on this place.
Simon narrows his eyes a bit and then rolls them around in his skull. "Did you really come all this way just to nag me?" he asks Mallory, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He turns and moves away from the counter to face his sister better. The beer is left on the counter alone, but not forgotten.
Since he already know the answer to that, Simon says, "What's up?" without waiting for her to answer. He's a little taken by her appearance here, which is more of a surprise than spotting Minea again or watching Cardinal tackle a knife-wielding maniac.
A table's found, off to one side; not often claimed by many, since while it's fairly quiet there's not much in the way of escape routes from it. The chair nearest to the wall's pulled out, and Cardinal drops himself down into it, leaning back with a faint creak of the chair's legs to drop his shoulders against the wall itself. The bottle of beer's brought to his lips, and he takes a long swallow, eyes closing for the moment. Alone with his drink, and whatever worries might linger in the shadowman's thoughts.
Mallory shakes her head. "I found a matchbook and got curious. And then when I was partway through here there was some guy and I think he was following me, so I'm not going anywhere without you on this shitty island now." She scowls more darkly, leaning against the bar and reaching for his bottle so she can raise it to her nose and have a sniff. "This is gross."
The sun has long since abandoned the sky and even without wearing a watch Bebe knows what time it is. Later than she'd like. She has somewhere else to be. With her ample alcohol abuse committed silently, she leaves most of the rum and blue curacao concoction untouched — save for all of that awful stirring — in her wake on the tabletop as she slowly slides out of her seat and slinks toward the door with a "Sorry, I can't". Late. The white rabbit is always running late…
Bebe has disconnected.
Aw hell. She got away. Murdoch is left contemplating the vivid blue drink. Well, worse things have happened. He takes the derelict drink in hand and moves to the bar, setting it there to be cleaned or whatever passes for cleaned here. He rejoins Terry and Minea with a small sigh. "I obviously need to do a better job at blending in. She must have smelled bacon," he comments, voice pitched low again. He looks from man to woman, "Is there something up?"
Terry nods his head towards Minea, and then grins. "Good eye," he says, and then tilts his head a little, before Bebe mentions that she has to go home. Terry glances over towards Murdoch, and then lets out a quiet 'hmm.' "Should we invite them, or let them make the decision?" he wonders, before turning to face Minea again. He takes another long, slow sip of his beer, and then leans back in his chair, watching Murdoch with an amused look on his face.
"Musta smelt pork" That's Minea's assumption as well to Murdoch. "We were thinking of finding another place to drink. That or maybe stay and work through the bottle still, and watch the kindergartners at the bar" The bottle was coming with them regardless. There's no law against open alcohol on the island here. "You can, if you want though, bring the kids over. Five bucks though it's gonna scare the boy away. We seems to be popping up in the same places unintentionallya nd he might think i'm a cop too, seeing that I'm sitting here with you two"
Simon shakes his head and chuckles at Mallory's inspection of the beer. "No, it's not. It's good, try it," he tells her, even though he guesses she'll hate it. "And no, you're definitely not. I don't want anything to happen to you," he tells her, oblivious to the fact that they are being discussed by cops and a Company agent. And called kindergarteners, of all things. "So why the visit, then?"
Mallory has a tentative sip of the beer, making a face. "That's horrible. Ugh," she comments, putting it back down on the bar and nudging it away. "I had to make sure your stupid ass was okay and you weren't going to stupid places you shouldn't be going to." Such a glare.
Murdoch blinks, then rubs his forehead, "I've an inkling he'd want to dash even if I didn't seem coppish at all. An older man, approaching a youngster and asking him to come join him for a drink? Why, exactly, do we want to bring them over anyways? To lecture them about making healthier life choices?" He steals a glance at the pair in question, "Why the interest?'
"We have a bet. I say that he'll run like a jackrabbit" Minea answers. "He showed up at my gym, while I was out taking pictures on the shoreline, even an art showing. He's a little skittish" Minea answers back to Murdoch. Two shot glasses of tequila are poured and passed to Murdoch. 'Go, proffer them alcohol. I have 20 bucks that he'll take the girl and run" She's so sure of it.
The bottle've beer is finished, and Cardinal drops it down to be set on the table's surface—rocking forward to the four legs of the seat, he pushes himself up to his feet and stretches slightly, nose wrinkling in a brief grimace as his back pops a bit. Must've been that roll-throw earlier. Or maybe just the door he hit. He steps around the table, walking out back across the bar-room.
Terry smirks, and then says, "I've got a better idea," to Minea. He stands up from the table, and then walks over towards the bar. He leans up against it next to Simon, and then pulls out his wallet. He makes a gesture towards the bartender, and says, "get me another beer?" He opens his wallet, exposing an NYPD badge, and a small amount of money. He pulls out a few dollars, and tosses them on the bar. This doesn't seem like the right kind of place to open a tab.
"Fine, give it here then," Simon tells Mallory. His hand goes out to grab away the beer bottle with a laugh. He puts it to his lips and takes a sip. Not bad at all. "Well, thanks. I seriously never thought in a million years you would come over here. I have a bunch of people to introduce you to," Simon explains. He spots Cardinal on the move out of the corner of his eye and turns, lifting his bottle in a sort of wave. "You heading out?" Terry is noted, and he scoots to make room for him, but he doesn't notice the badge.
Mallory shuffles over for Terry as well; she looks at the badge, raising an eyebrow, and then back to Simon. "I'm pretty sure I don't want to meet anyone you know around here," she says. "Let's go."
Murdoch lifts his hands, away from the shots, "Not on your life," he says, "Negligence is one thing. But offering alcohol to an underaged individual is not something I can do, on or off the job," he taps the side of his nose, giving a wry smile, "Nice try though. I just got my job back. Not looking to lose it. At least not over /your/ bet."
HA! Simon doesn't fall for it. Or doesn't see it. But the girl with him, who Minea's starting to suspect might be related, might be. "Fine Murdy. Sit, lets watch the show. See if he see's me here or not hmm? Then we'll go see what this Pelican place is about, or we can hire a boat back to the mainland" Mainland being STILL an island.
On the other hand, Cardinal notices it right away as he pauses beside the bar to answer Simon — a sharp look given the man, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Idiot," he mutters under his breath, though audibly, before turning his gaze to the teenagers, a wry smile curving half-way to his lips, "Yeah, well, was thinkin' about it." A jerk of his chin to Mallory, and he asks Simon, "Family?"
Simon looks back at Mallory, still completely oblivious to Terry being a cop, because he still hasn't learned to pay attention around here. "Why? The night is young and nothing is going to happen." He turns to Cardinal and nods, "Yeah, she's my sister." A turn back to Mallory, and Simon raises his brow as if to silently wonder why she's acting so worried. "This is Cardinal. Good people. Maybe not even crazy."
"I'm his Aunt Betty," Mallory says, a second too late. She glowers at Simon, just glowers, and stomps on his foot. STAMP. "Hi, Cardinal. It's nice to meet you. So sad we have to leave, though. Because we have to. Leave." That's to Simon.
Murdoch takes his seat across from Minea, frowning slightly. "Forgive me," he says, "Perhaps its the tequila. But I haven't the slightest idea what he's up to." He glances to Minea, "Or what you're after." He pulls one of the two shots closer, but doesn't move to drink, "I hope no one remembers me. I wasn't hoping to be confirmed an officer, at most suspected."
As the bartender scoops up Terry's money, he gives the man a 'you're crazy,' kind of look. However, as requested he grabs another dirty glass and starts filling it with the same dark liquid that Terry was drinking before. He glances at Mallory, and smiles, saying a quiet, "thanks," before turning his attention back to the bartender. He picks his beer up, and then glances over Mallory's shoulder towards Simon. He chuckles, and then takes his beer and starts walking back towards his table.
"Stick close to me and pretend you working the typing pool?" Minea offers to Murdoch, watching Terry at the bar. 'Told you, we're having a bet to see whether Simon there can be chased off or not. Your too drunk. We should get you off the island once Terry's done his drink"
"Charmed," Cardinal replies in deadpan tones to Mallory, before slanting a look back to Simon with a hint of amusement stirring behind slightly reddened eyes with more than a few visible veins to them. He jerks his head and chin to her, asking casually, "She stayin' at the bright tower too?"
"Simon?" Murdoch echoes, "You know that boy?" The man gives the gathering at the bar another, longer look. He doesn't say more at the moment, though. He pushes the shotglass back to the center of the table, "I'm fine. It's just my medication. Doesn't mix well."
Simon winces, turns and glares back at Mallory, though at least he realizes that he probably shouldn't have just gone around saying her name. Paranoid. "All right," he tells her, setting his drink on the counter. If she wants to go, he won't keep her here. To Cardinal, the kid shakes his head, "Um, no, she's not." He lifts his shoulders in a shrug and grins. "But I guess we're going to head out of here. I'll see you around, man."
"Yeah. Bye," Mallory says, giving Simon's arm a shove as she pastes a crappy smile on for Cardinal and starts to head for the door. "Oh my god," she whispers to Simon.
"I've run across him a time or two. More than twice, I tend to remember the name. Kids don't belong on this island" That's Minea's personal observation and opinion. "you failed Terry. You were supposed to make HIM run. Instead you got the girl running, mind you she's taking him with her"
Terry winks towards Minea, and then places the beer down on the table. "I didn't fail. He's going, and she's a bonus," he says quietly towards her. "And a couple bucks, and being denied the ability to drink out of another of these glasses? Not a terrible price." He glances towards Murdoch, and then says, "you gonna make it man? Well, either way, we'll make sure you get a safe ride back home. Minea and I need to step outside, though."
Murdoch quirks his mouth to the side, then nods, offering Minea's his hand, "It's been a pleasure," a pause, "Minea, I know, but I'm a formal man. Might I have your whole name? Before you run out into the streets after whatever it is?"
"Minea Dahl. Or Lancaster. Take your pick" The older Brunette offers. "Divorced" But up she goes, taking Murdoch's hand and holding it firm for a few moments before taking it back. "Another time Murdoch. But Terry and I have a date" There's a wink before she's looking to Terry for them to be going.
A faint snort of half-laughter from Cardinal, and he raises a hand to his brow and then away. "See you 'round, kid," he offers casually, "Maybe at the 'house sometime, I need to talk to him anyway." Which 'him' isn't really explained.
"Thank you for having me along, Terry. I'm sure to see you at work," Murdoch says, quietly.
"Yeah, sounds good," Simon tells Cardinal before turning to run after Mallory. That girl can move fast when she wants to get somewhere, or away from something. A quick glance is given to Mine and company, and a frown forms on his face. "What?" he whispers back to Mallory as the two head out the door.
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