2007-03-01: Aftermath


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Cass and Lachlan head to the Den of Iniquity for some drinks after all the excitement at Hava Java. Jack is tending bar and gives them free drinks, and the three reflect on the events in the coffee shop. Elena sneaks into the bar for a Shirley Temple and to tell the trio that she covered for them with the police. Lachlan is given the chance for a second date, despite the atrocity of the first one; Elena and Jack exchange numbers.

Date It Happened: March 1st, 2007


Den of Iniquity, Brooklyn

What a day. After the shooting at the coffee shop in the Village, Jack hopped into a cab and made straight for his bar. Shooing away the bartender and a great deal of customers with his surly demeanor, he's just now finishing his first drink and starting on the second. Calm. Must be calm.

Two of the pool tables are occupied, and a trio of women in their thirties are sipping cosmos at one end of the bar. Other than that, the place is blessedly deserted. Having thrown on an apron over his freshly-changed grey turtleneck and jeans, Jack has taken up the bartender's duties and can hardly complain.

In through the door, Cass has finally started to get some color back into her face. And she's not mentally freaking out about the whole 'I was just nearly killed' thing as much any more. Still some, but not as much. Wanting to get as far away from the East Village as possible, Cass decides to take Lachlan more in the direction of where she hangs her hat - Brooklyn. And since she's not sure she wants to deal with the awkwardness of just the two of them in the apartment, she decides a bar might be a good idea. And where better to lie low than the disreputable bar right in the hub of Brooklyn?

Bars have drinks. Lachlan is more than happy to go in the direction of a place where drinks are readily available. After all the excitement at that boring ol' coffee joint, he figures he /deserves/ a little alcoholic pick-me-up. He also deserves a cigarette, which is what he's got dangling between his lips as he walks in next to Cass. It's his second one since they left Hava Java, and it's already half gone. Padfoot has been left outside once again after being placated by a lot of kind words and pettings, and now the Scotsman peers at the bar. It takes him a moment to recognize Jack, but once he does, he grunts and nods his head toward the Irishman. "Looks like yer no' the only one ta get the idea," he remarks.

It's almost as if Jack can sense Cass's thoughts on how much of a dive his bar is, and for a moment he smiles without having seen the girl or her date arrive. When he does spot them, his eyes widen briefly. Then his surprise abates. After all, when you've been through a day like today, nothing should really shock you. From his place behind the bar, he graces the pair with a rueful grin. "Aye," he replies. "That show would put the best of us on the sauce. What can I get you two?"

Cass blinks when she notices the man who's behind the bar. "Yeah. Huh." She manages a smile and approaches the bar so they're not yelling across the bar room. Especially when they're talking about a crime scene they fled from. "Um," she thinks for a moment, debating. "I'll go for a rum and coke." She decides to go for something harder than just beer. "Yeah. That was…horrifying."

Ahhh, a bar. Lachlan takes a seat next to Cass with a quiet sigh of mixed relief and exhaustion. All the excitement's really catching up with him. "Bit o' Glen Moray if ye got it," he requests. Scotch is usually what he gets anyway. He doesn't need anything much harder. The Scotsman settles his elbows on the bar top, hands clasped in front of him. "Could o' been worse."

With quick, deft motions, Jack pours the rum and coke, then pulls down dusty bottles of twenty-one year Glenfiddich and Glenlivet, as well as a second high-ball glass. "No Moray, but either of these comes highly recommended. On the house," he says as he lays the glasses on tagboard coasters and pushes them across the bar. "Anybody involved in a shooting deserves to drink for free."

Cass settles into her seat with the same mixture of relief and exhaustion. She's had quite a draining day. Pulling her drink in closer, she gives Jack a grateful smile. "Thanks." As soon as she has her drink, she takes a long drink of it. Though she's not normally one for drinking, this is one of those times when it seems like a good idea. She frowns at Lachlan saying it could have been worse. "I'm not sure how it could have been much worse."

Anytime the Scotch is free is a very good time, in Lachlan's book. He smiles as he stubs his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray and resettles with his elbows on the bar. "Thank ye kindly. Glenfiddich'll do." Then he looks to Cass, and the frown returns. "Ye dinna get shot." It's a simple statement, but true.

"I'm inclined to side with the lady," Jack agrees. "I mean, I killed a lady today. She deserved it, mind you, but it was so damn /messy./" He unstoppers the Glenfiddich, fills Lachlan's glass halfway, then sighs and takes a drink from his own. When he sets it down it's empty, and he pours himself another three fingers from the same bottle. "And I puked in public. That was pretty gross."

Cass blinks again, eyebrows in surprise at Lachlan's statement. That's certainly not what she was expecting him to say. How is it that he can still surprise her? "I…true. I didn't. You didn't, either." Then, she smiles at Jack's response. "I, thankfully, did not see you puke. But then I missed a lot of what happened." Another long drink is taken and she's starting to finally unwind.

Killing someone doesn't seem to perturb Lachlan much, who shrugs again. "Yeah, but ye dinna get shot either, an' yer still walkin'. Sure, it wasna my idea o' a grand ol' time, but we're all still alive." That counts for something, in Lachlan's book. Maybe he's just an optimist. He picks up his drink and brandishes it in a casual toast toward the others before downing a good portion of it in one gulp. He doesn't grimace. Much.

"I think that pretty Mexican girl was the only one who saw me heave. She was a spicy one, what with all that standin' up and takin' charge she did." Jack grabs a rag from under the bar and swipes at an imaginary spot on the bar. Despite the Den's carefully cultivated reputation, it's always clean.

Cass puts down her drink and swirls it around a bit. She's mulling over the fact that Jack just killed someone and doesn't really seem all that upset about it. That's just sinking in now. "Her names' Elena. And I think she's something like eighteen." Just so Jack knows the boundaries. She sighs, tugging a bit on her short hair. "Yeah, maybe we didn't, but that poor waitress isn't getting back up again."

The waitress doesn't concern Lachlan too much, but then again he probably wouldn't have been too concerned if Jack or Elena had been shot dead in that coffee shop either (except after the fact, when it became apparent that they were friends of Cass'). He's just a sweet guy that way. He at least has the decency to frown somewhat mournfully and nod solemnly when Cass points out the fallen Julie, however. "Fer how much firepower was goin' on in tha' shop, though, we're all lucky ta be alive."

"She could be eighty for all I care. It takes guts to stand up to gunfire." At the mention of the waitress, Jack pauses his pointless bar-wiping and his expression grows somber. "Julie? Julia? The poor, sweet, stupid thing. If I'd been…" No. Might-have-been is a pointless exercise. He shakes his head. "What a waste," he quietly finishes.

"Yeah. You're right." Cass nods to Lachlan, though she doesn't really sound all that happy about it. With another quick down the hatch, the brunette finishes off the rest of her drink. Boy, she's drinking fast tonight. "I didn't catch her name," she frowns at Jack, realizing that. But that brings up other questions now that she can think more clearly. "I didn't know you had a gun."

"I'm really sorry but I forgot my ID," Elena tells the bouncer. "But I -am- a student at NYU, if that helps. I'm a senior." She shows the bouncer her NYU ID, and gives him her best, confident smile and hopes to GOD he'll let her in. "Please? It's just that I'm here to meet a friend of mine and she looks like she's inside, I can just grab her real quick and we'll be on our way, we don't have to stay long if you're not comfortable, I promise."

The bouncer looks at her ID, and looks at her, and looks at her ID. "….five minutes," he says gruffly. "Five minutes to grab your friend, alright?"

"Yes, thank you so much," Elena says, hitching up her backpack high and checking her watch. It was….late. She had already called her father from the station, and she had one more stop to go. But this one will be a quickie. She wouldn't even -be- here if it weren't for the fact that she caught a glimpse of Jack from the window wiping down the bar, and Cass moving around there as well. But oh god. Oh jesus. She just bluffed her way into a bar. A 21-and-over bar. A 21-and-over DIVE BAR. When the hell did she become so ballsy??

Indeed, Cass is knocking them back a bit fast. Of course, Lachlan doesn't mind this. The /last/ time Cass was a bit inebriated, they wound up pressed against the door of Enlightenment Books for a while — and despite the sober mood hanging about, the Scotsman is totally fine with such a thing happening again. Lachlan Deatley: always capable of thinking with the smaller brain in times of crisis. He doesn't note Elena's appearance and adds nothing to the current conversation as he drains still more of his Scotch.

Jack tucks his rag away. "I have several," he replies to Cass's implied question. "New York is a dangerous place, which I think we've proved tonight. God bless Steyr, and God bless automatic weapons. Without 'em, that could've…" He trails off when Elena enters the bar. Like any good proprietor with a near-empty establishment, he notices those sorts of things. "Uh oh," he murmurs. "This could be bad." Absently, his nimble hands whip up fresh drinks for both Cass and Lachlan.

Cass isn't really about to order another one, but Jack makes the decision for her. Oh well, she's not about to let good drinks go to waste. Now, though, she decides to take it a bit slower. What with all the craziness from earlier in the day, the alcohol is already starting to buzz in the back of her head. "It is dangerous, but I certainly don't have a gun. I think if I tried to shoot one, I'd be more likely to shoot myself in the foot than the person coming after me." The mention of 'uh oh' makes Cass straighten a little. "Uh oh? What uh oh?"

She wasn't expecting Lachlan to -be here- still. Oh well, he was trying to help Cass out. Elena freezes when Jack spots her, though Cass and Lachlan haven't yet. Her hand grips her backpack tightly, and with a determined expression on her face, she ventures forwards. "Hi. I can't stay here long, the bouncer only gave me five minutes," she says to the crew. "But the gunman's in custody, the two bodies are being processed, I didn't mention the Flash running around yanking civilians out of the coffeehouse and…" She looks at Jack, her expression turning sheepish. "I told them the other shooter who was firing in self defense was a seven-foot tall caucasian with a neon-green mohawk with an AC/DC tattoo and a lazy eye."

Uhoh? Uhoh what? Lachlan doesn't get time to follow Jack's gaze, for Elena soon speaks and washes away all doubt of just what is "uhoh". The Scotsman half-turns on his stool and fixes the not-old-enough-to-drink barista with a surprised sort of expression. This soon turns into a smirk of admiration. /Wow/. She snuck into a /bar/. She gets major points in his book. "Di'ye tell 'em I threw a chair at the guy an' busted his face in?" Because it's always great when people brag about such things to the police.

Jack stiffens up when Elena approaches. Of all the people at the scene, she's the one who posed the greatest risk of making him for the cops. After her admission of misdirection he lets out a pent-up breath. "Thanks, little bit," he says to the girl. "I'm no bad guy, but the last thing I want to do is testify in court. Sorry for running out on you like that." Lachlan's antics earn a smirk, but little else. "Can I get you somethin'? You earned it."

"You threw a chair at the guy?" Cass sounds confused. And impressed. She missed a lot by being dragged out by the Flash, as Elena called him. It may not actually get many points for the police, but it gets a few with Cass. When Elena speaks, she turns around in her chair and smiles at the younger girl. "Thanks Elena." And she can't help but snicker, thinking of Jack as a seven foot tall mohawked punk.

"It's okay. It was self-defense. That and they way you were running out, I figured you wouldn't want to be contacted by them," Elena says simply to Jack. And when he offers her a drink, she hesitates. But she was thirsty, and she was tired - something cool would be great about now. But her father will know if she ingested anything alcoholic. "….can I have a Shirley Temple if it's not too much trouble?" she asks, looking sheepish when she says it and feeling….well, INCREDIBLY lame and totally uncool. Any teenager in her shoes who successfully bluffed her way into a bar would probably order something outrageous like a Long Island Iced Tea or a Car Bomb - but not this one. Grenadine, and Sprite or 7-up. It's a reddish-pink drink, incredibly girly, and stupenduously non-alcoholic. Despite everything she's still a good girl. Turning to Cass, she smiles a little bit. "No worries. I figured you wouldn't want to be accosted by the cops either. Besides….it was the least I could do." Since Cass is helping her father out.

"And uh…I didn't tell them about the chair thing," Elena says. "I just told them I didn't see all of it because things were going so fast."

"Tha's righ'," Lachlan utters to Cass with a broad and proud nod of his head. He /beat/ that gunner. He beat him /good/. The Scotch that he's downing in copious amounts is starting to give him a pleasant buzz, but he's nowhere near his limit. And speaking of Scotch, there's now more of it sitting in front of him. This pleases Lachlan, who lifts his glass again in a toast to Jack before swallowing more of the rough spirits. Elena's response is less than edifying, but the Scotsman takes it in stride, bobbing his head with a slight frown. He quickly moves onto the subject of the girl's drink: "Ye should have somethin' a bit more'n tha'. Ye were figh'in' hard as the rest o' us." Plus, she /snuck into the bar/. That deserves something alcoholic.

"Shirley Temple? Uhh.. You got it, little bit." Jack fills a glass with ice and quickly puts the drink together, then pushes it across to Elena. "It's on me. I owe you for keeping my name out of things. If you want anything else, don't hesitate to ask." Belatedly, he picks up the rejected bottle of scotch and tucks it back on the shelf, then refills his own glass and hoists it to Lachlan. "To the good fight," he toasts, then takes a hearty drink.

Cass smiles back at Elena and shrugs her shoulders. "Yeah. I just kind of wanted to get out of there as soon as possible." Her drink order gets a wider grin from Cass, it's adorable and pretty sweet of her to just order a virgin drink. Lachlan gets a stare as he seems so proud of beating the man over the head with a chair. Of course, Cass can't say that she blames him for those bits of heroics. When Jack offers a toast, she doesn't partake, as she really didn't do any fighting - good or otherwise. But she does take a drink from her glass.

The teenager grins sheepishly at Lachlan. "Well…" Elena pauses. "I would, really, but I still live with Papa, and he'll….well. He'll know if I did." She doesn't explain why. "And he already wasn't happy with me as it is when I told him I was at the station." She takes the Shirley Temple, and watches the pink-red drink fizzy itself up on the ice. "Thank you," she tells Jack sincerely, and she takes a sip of the drink after the toast. She practically melts against the counter - it felt great. She needed it muchly. "And ….I did even if I didn't want to…." She laughs. "I don't really know your name, sir, I couldn't give the cops what I don't know in the first place."

The toast gives Lachlan an excuse for a second drink, which goes down a bit harder than the first thanks to the brief amount of time between gulps. Elena's explanation earns her a deeper frown, but the Scotsman doesn't press it further. C'est la vie and all that.

Jack sets his scotch down with a soft clunk and extends one hand across the bar to be shook. "Moniker's Jack," he replies. He grins in a crooked, friendly manner. "My friends tell me your name is Elena. Pleasure to make your aquaintsnce."

Cass watches the exchange between Elena and Jack, but doesn't really have anything else to add to it. Instead, she rolls her glass around between her hands, lost in thought. She's in a bar, though, and with friends, so she quickly decides to put away the whole dourness and try and at least join in. Taking her glass, she clinks it against Lachlan's, noticing that he's wearing just as long as a frown as she was. The store owner gives the man a small smile and a bit of a push with her elbow. "Thanks for, you know, helping me out of there and all. Really."

She smiles openly and warmly, Elena extending her hand across the bar to give his hand a firm and quick shake. "It is. Elena Gomez," she says. "Pleased to meet you! Truth be told I didn't think you were a bartender…" She looks a little embarassed when she says the next, laughing a bit. "I thought you were a cop. Or a gang member. I'm sorry." Then she'll have to wonder why a bartender was packing heat - but considering his actions probably saved lives tonight, she doesn't question it too much. So she takes further sips….and later gulps of her Shirley Temple. Good lord. She's thirsty. Thank god she didn't order anything alcholic, she'd be doomed.

Clink! goes glass-on-glass, semi-startling Lachlan from whatever thoughts he was wandering through. He glances over at Cass blankly a moment before he smiles and looks to his glass again. It's almost a sheepish expression. /Almost/. "Nah, was nothin'. Tha'd've been the worst bloody date ever if ye'd wound up shot." He's new to the whole dating thing, but he's /fairly/ certain that winding up in a hospital at the end of a date isn't considered ideal.

Jack's grin grows wider yet. "Gang member? Now flattering," he teases. "Nay, I'm a simple barkeep. And a magician. And a gambler. That last bit's a long story." He trails off at the end and gives his head a self-depricating shake.

She blushes at the teasing. "I didn't mean to think that," Elena protests, but she's grinning. At the next — "You're a magician? Really?" she asks, perking up. "Like sleight of hand and all that stuff? That's awesome! ….how good are you?" she says with a grin. All the adrenaline in her system was making her a lot more outgoing than she thought possible. She wondered if she performed around New York. Then again, there was Broadway, and a ton of other shows around town. She finishes her Shirley Temple, setting the glass down on the counter with a quiet clack.

Finally shaking off the weird jittery feeling, Cass smiles back. In fact, she laughs. "Hitting a gunman in the face with a chair is nothing? I do not want to know what you do on a normal day, then." Yes, one or both of the participants ending up wounded or dead is not normally how dates are supposed to end. "I've had dates that were just as bad as getting shot. Okay, not really that bad, but they were bad. But, I'm taking the being alive thing as a good thing."

"I train dogs on normal days," Lachlan responds readily, grinning, "which is worse — no' b'cause the dogs're bad, but b'cause their owners are a buncha morons. 'S bloody painful ta deal with." Especially for someone who is so attached to dogs. "An' I've no', uh, dated much. Canna say I've had a bad 'un." As he picks up his glass again, he squints in thought. "'Cept this 'un." Another pause. "Er. No' sayin' it was /bad/, but … I mean, s'no' been. Uh." He trails off helplessly, gesturing with his free hand and grimacing. Damn it. It was a good sentence in his head!

Jack quickly whips up another Shirley Temple for Elena and slides it across the counter. At the query concerning the depth of abilities, he only smiles mysteriously. Then, using one of his signature moves, he produces a short-stemmmed rose with a flourishing gesture. "I'm ok," he says modestly as he sets the flower on the bar in front of tonight's too-young heroine.

She blinks - she didn't even see it. Elena squints at him, peering at his sleeves, and trying to figure out how he pulled off the trick. And then, she laughs, picking up the rose and grinning. "Thanks," she says, and picks up the Shirley Temple to take another sip - slower this time. "That was pretty cool! I mean…I can usually figure it out if I looked hard enough but….that was flawless!" She turns her eyes to Cass and Lachlan as they talk about dates, and when the Scotsman fumbles and buckles under Cass's supreme wit, she can't help but try and hide a grin. "Maybe you should teach him that trick," she murmurs for Jack to hear. Give Lachlan some game, yo!

Cass leans forward to quickly give Lachlan a kiss. She knows what he's trying to say. "A date involving a shoot out in a coffee shop isn't really one I'd qualify as 'good'. But it was fine up until that point. Maybe next time we should go to a movie. I don't think people try and shoot each other during one of those." She smiles, trying to put the Scot back at ease again.

Hmm. Well. The sentence came out bad, but at least it wasn't badly received! Lachlan is a bit shocked at the brief kiss, but he's soon grinning broadly. "Yeah, mebbe a movie next time." And movies don't involve a lot of talking either. That's a good date for him. "'Cept, yanno, the people in the movie tryin' ta shoot each other. But tha' way, we're no' the ones gettin' shot at." Mm, Scotch. The maker of articulate speech.

Jack leans forward, grins, and whispers, "Aye. I'm thinkin' it's about time she slept with the poor chap, aren't you?" Pointedly, he ignores Cass's comment about people not getting shot in theaters. After all, now would hardly be an appropriate time to mention the whole Lincoln assasination thing.

Cass nods and grins back. "I'm definitely more willing to watch movie violence than real violence. I even promise not to almost faint." Ah, alcohol, making situations less awkward since its invention. Though now that she's finally relaxing, she's starting to feel the energy drain out of her. She takes another long sip of her drink and then realizes that it's almost empty. Well, that was quite quick. Drinking down the last of it, she pushes herself up off the barstool. "Speaking of, I think I'm about to pass out. Want to get out of here?"

She colors at that, and coughs. "Cass can decide that for herself," she tells Jack, but Elena does smile at him. When Cass and Lachlan start to head out, she gives Jack a glance. "….did you do that too?" she murmurs with a grin. "Because that's a handy trick." She finishes her glass and sets it down on the countertop. "Thanks a lot, Jack. For the drink and the trick." She wiggles the rose at him with a cheerful smile.

"Yeah, sure." After rising to his feet, it doesn't take much for Lachlan to down the rest of his drink, though he does let out a soft cough afterward. Scotch isn't meant to be drunk that fast. "Paddy's goin' berserk out there anyway." How he knows this is anyone's guess, but he doesn't elaborate. "Thank ye fer the drinks, Jack. Yer a good man. Ye take care o' yerselves, both o' ye." Obviously, he means Elena as well. With this farewell and a grin, the Scotsman turns to follow Cass out. Not a bad ending for such a disastrous first date!

"Anytime, lass," Jack replies to Elena. "I'll let the employees known you're a preferred customer. You're welcome anytime." He frowns, then pulls a pad and pen from under the bar and quickly scribbles out his cellular phone number for the girl. "Things have been strange in this town. You ever get into trouble, give me a call, ok?" He slides the paper across the bar, then chucks a waves to Cass and Lachlan. "Thanks for stoppin' by, guys. I was glad for the company."

"Thanks for the drinks, Jack." Cass gives him a warm smile. All the alcohol is making her feel warm and fuzzy. Though she doesn't know how Lachlan knows about Paddy outside, she doesn't question it. "And I took the painting down, so you don't have to worry so much," she adds haphazardly to the bartender. To Elena she gives a wave and a smile. "Stop by the store sometime. We still have to talk about that thing you came in for before." And then she's out the door.

"Oh….ah…thanks, Jack, I really appreciate it," Elena says, taking the cellphone number and eyeing it a bit before she folds it carefully and sticks it in her back pocket. Before she leaves, though, her eyes glance over to Jack, watching his face intently. "……strange?" she asks softly. "….do you…" She pauses. "….I mean, did you notice that, too?" Ooooh enigmatic! Her dark eyes settle on the bartender apprehensively.

And then, her phone beeps. She picks it up quickly and checks the LCD display and she shoves it down in her pockets again. "I'm sorry, I have to go." She turns around to head out…and then doubles back to scribble her own number on a napkin, and leaves it for Jack to have before she rushes out the door.

Oooh. Cliffhanger!

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