2007-03-23: Clumsy Girl


Cass_icon.gif Mr-Hendrickson_icon.gif Oliver_icon.gif Jack_icon.gif

Summary: Cass goes to Fly By Night Cocktail Bar to drown her sorrows in classy booze and she winds up giving Mr. Hendrickson's associate a concussion. Oliver, Jack, and Cass find out they have an Eliana in common.

Date It Happened: March 23, 2007

Clumsy Girl

Fly By Night Cocktail Bar

It's later in the night and Cass has found herself at the Fly by Night. It's one of those bars that she /knows/ she won't run into Lachlan in. With it's swank and snooty waitresses, she feels out of place in her jeans and in her button down shirt. She feels like she should be wearing something designer. Oh well, that is just the price she will have to pay to avoid someone she does not want to see. That and what is sure to be a hefty bill for her drinks. Sticking to the hard alcohol, she's gone for the simple vodka tonics. Goes down smooth and it won't take long her her to feel their effects. Slumping in one of the couches pushed up against the wall, she broods at the only thing she's sure will not ask awkward questions, her glass of alcohol.

Mr. Hendrickson is apparently a regular at the Cocktain Bar. The waiters and waitresses nod to him like they know him, and he nods back in return, moving through the room toward one of the back booths, possibly near Cass' position, possibly not! Who can say. Unlike Cass, he is well-dressed in his usual attire, albeit a new suit, since the old one has a bullethole in it and bloodstains. He is wearing his black fedora and black gloves as well, not to mention toting the mysterious briefcase, which he sets on the table, off to the side. Mr. Hendrickson slides into the booth, removing his fedora and placing it on the table. When the waitress comes by, he orders a drink, and then simply reclines, waiting for his contact to arrive!

This isn't the sort of place one would usually find Oliver Pasternack. Small out-of-the-way, locally owned bars are more his style. However, tonight? Tonight Oliver has a prospective client. The painting he managed to hold onto during the excitement at NYU a while back caught the attention of a rich buyer, and a few phone calls later finds Oliver here. He's finished meeting with his new benefactor and is currently just mingling a bit before heading out. In his hand is a bit of wine — his first and only of the night — and he ambles more than walks with any real purpose. Spotting the very obviously out-of-place Cass, he smirks and starts to move toward her, lifting an eyebrow. "Wow," he states once he's close enough to be heard. "You've got some guts dressing like that." Oliver himself is dressed in a nice suit that is a little out of his price range — it was likely a gift from his parents.

Though Jack drinks every night, tonight he's craving an escape from the Den. Since hiring on Jane, his pub has been filled with old regulars and new faces alike, keeping him busy for days on end. Finally, unable to mix one more martini, he's made his escape and left Leanna to mind the store. After a hearty steak-and-potato dinner and a brief wander, he finds himself in front of the Fly By Night. Though it wouldn't usually be his sort of scene, it /is/ a far cry from the Den.

When he slips through the door, Jack makes a beeline for the bar. He's split the line between last night's black tie and his usual, more casual attire with a simple, dark maroon suit, collarless black shirt, and high-polish shoes. The moment he's settled onto a stool he calls out, "Vodka. Rocks. Double."

As Cass is losing in a staring contest with her vodka, she doesn't notice Oliver approaching her on the couch. In fact, she doesn't even realize he's addressing her until he's talking to her about her clothes. And she doesn't like that. She /knows/ she's not supposed to be dressed like this in such a fancy bar but she wasn't about to go home to Brooklyn to change and come back. Already in a sour mood, stiffens and takes in Oliver in his suit and with his wine. Frowning, she narrows her eyes at him. "Look, I just came for a drink. I didn't come to be ridiculed. It's a /nice/ shirt okay? I'm sorry it's not Armani." Yes. She's a little tipsy and ready to fight back.

Mr. Hendrickson takes note of Oliver, who is probably nearby, and his annoyed female companion, who looks oddly familiar but is unimportant at the moment. Instead, he focuses on the door, and watches as a slightly overweight man in a nice, nondescript suit walks in, looking around before spotting Hendrickson and making his way over. The man is /also/ carrying a briefcase. How mysterious! He slides into the opposite side of the booth, gives his order to the waitress, and nods to Hendrickson. The Fat Guy and Hendrickson begin talking in hushed tones, clearly not wishing to be overheard.

Whoo, well. Looks like /someone's/ had a bit to drink and is less than happy to talk. Oliver raises his hands placatingly — or one, anyway. The other is still holding his wine. "Whoa, hey, take it easy. I wasn't meaning anything by it; it was a compliment." He casts a glance over toward Hendrickson and his companion, one eyebrow rising. Feh. Upperclassmen and their secret dealings. "You're a bit touchy." This last remark is directed at Cass, but his attention isn't fully focused on her.

Jack's ears perk at the sound of Cass's familiar voice. He hesitates at the bar just long enough to pay for his drink and take a manful, steadying draught, then swivels around and sets off toward her. Someone has to run damage control on the situation caused by Lachlan's penis, after all, and he considers the woman a friend. He doesn't recognize Oliver until he's standing next to him. Though they'd never found time to get formally and thoroughly aquainted, the two did bump into each other at NYC. Still, he only spares a brief glance for the young man. "If she's touchy, maybe s'best not to prod her, y'think? How you doin', Cassie?"

Not really looking around, Cass doesn't notice Hendrickson or his business partner - something she'd normally be very interested in. Or at least curious about. Right now she's focused on Oliver and the insult he's paid her. Except…he's saying it's not an insult. "Oh." That totally deflates the building anger that she was feeling. "Sorry." Then, remembering she has some manners, "Thanks." Slumping against the back of the couch again, she shrugs. "Bad couple of days," is her explanation. Jack suddenly appearing by Oliver's shoulder makes her eyes go wide and then she pulls herself up and puts on a smile. "I'm bloody fantastic, Jacky boy." And she doesn't sound sarcastic. "Come pull up a seat. Both of you. Drinking alone makes me feel like an alcoholic."

Mr. Hendrickson and The Fat Man (PB Donald Moore) continue their hushed discussion. It doesn't appear to get very heated, and they /seem/ to be agreeing with each other. If one listened closely enough, one might hear snippets of conversation, words like "accident" and "discreetly". The Waitress eventualy returns with both The Fat Man and Mr. Hendrickson's drinks. Mr. Hendrickson only occasionally sips his drink, while The Fat Man takes long, deep drinks, obviously a man who enjoys his booze.

The arrival of Jack draws Oliver's attention away from Mister Hendrickson and his business partner. The artist seems a little surprised to see the Irishman, but he recovers quickly. "Well, if it isn't Indiana Jones," he remarks dryly. Then, after glancing between Cass and Jack, he adds, "You two know each other? Huh. Small world." He obligingly takes a seat nearby, cradling his glass of wine between two hands.

Intimately familiar with drink and the melancholy it can bring a person to when they're already low, Jack is quick to oblige Cass's request by slipping into the seat next to her. He can't help but feel a little guilty about what she's going through. After all, he did know about Lach's indescretion without bringing it to her attention. Still, it seems wiser not to dwell on the past. Instead he tips the brim of an imaginary hat to Oliver and replies, "You can call me Indy." Then he hoists his glass and takes a sip. "So.." he begins akwardly. "Do we want to chat, or shall we go straight to getting fershnickered?"

"Indiana Jones?" Cass looks to Jack questioningly at that little nickname when he drops onto the couch next to her. "I could see it." She only knows some of what Jack covered and that's that he ran damage control for his drinking buddy at the bar when Riya was there. And, really, she doesn't want to talk about it. Especially not in front of some stranger. "I'm Cass, by the way," she introduces herself to Oliver, as they've never met. "Cass Aldric. Jack and I go…well, a couple weeks back. And I say we do both. Chatting goes with getting fershnickered. It's part of the territory."

Mr. Hendrickson and The Fat Man continue their discussion, with no one even so much as glancing at the underdressed girl and her friends. The Fat Man slides his briefcase across the table to Mr. Hendrickson, who turns it around to face him, and thumbs the locks. The opens it slightly, peering inside. If anyone were to look, they'd notice it was cash. Lots of it. Tacked all nice and neat. God only knows the exact amount. Well, God, Mr. Hendrickson, and the Fat Man. Mr. Hendrickson then closes the briefcase, nodding. "That'll do."

"Oliver Pasternack." He extends a hand to be shaken, the introduction meant for both Jack and Cass, as he's not introduced himself properly to either one. "I'm not one for getting drunk, so I'll just stand by and be the sober party in this little trio." He offers an easy smile, his attention having long since faded away from Hendrickson and the Fat Man. His back is now to them anyway, so he can't really see the money.

"Fershnickered it is," Jack replies with a knowing grin. "And we'll tete-a-tete along the way." He gulps down the rest of his vodka, then snags a passing cocktail waitress by the elbow. "Oi. Another round for us, lady-o. And get yourself somethin', as well. Now, back to getting bloody conked, ri—" Waitasec. Jack does a double-take. "Pasternack?" he queries. On one hand, New York City is big. On the other, Eliana has a pretty uncommon surname. "Got any sisters or girl-cousins livin' in the city?"

"Nice to meet you!" Cass reaches forward and shakes Oliver's hand, being extra mindful of her drink. She doesn't want to spill it and she's not exactly steady at the moment. "I'm not normally, either. Just on special occasions." Draining down the last of her vodka and tonic, she puts it on the table in front of them to be collected. "I have a friend who's got that same last name," she tells Oliver in the interest of making small talk. It's the best she can come up with at the moment. "His…" she jerks a thumb over to Jack, but he's already asking the question about if he knows Eliana. So, she shuts up and let's him ask.

Mr. Hendrickson slides his briefcase over to the Fat Man, who opens it and pulls out a folder, thumbing through the contents idly. He nods, seeming satisfied. Mr. Hendrickson then nods, and takes the Suitcase full of cash, and places it at his side, while the Fat Man places the Suitcase full of paper at his side. "Pleasure doing business with you," the Fat Man says, nodding and standing up, taking the suitcase with him. "I'll give you a call if I need your services again."
"You have my number," is Mr. Hendrickson's reply.

"Why, do you find me /that/ attractive, Indy?" Oliver's only joking, of course, accompanied by a broad grin. He nods his head shortly after. "I have a cousin living in the city. Eliana is her name." He raises an eyebrow quizzically, examining the other two closely. Would they know Eliana? Who knows?

"Talk about small words. Eliana is my ladyfriend." Doubly pleased to make Oliver's aquaintence, Jack gives the other man a hearty clap on the shoulder. "Well met, boy-o." The waitress comes back around with a fresh vodka/rocks for the Irishman and a new drink for Cass. After being paid and tipped, she bustles away to serve other customers. Jack snags his newly-deposited glass and lifts it in an impromptu toast. "All the more reason that those of us drinkin' should do the job well."

Cass snickers at Oliver's quip. However, her snicker turns to surprise when he mentions Eliana's name. "That's her! That's our friend!" She's pleased by this turn of events and smiles at Oliver. Grabbing her glass, she raises it to the toast Jack proposes and clinks her glass, tilting her head back for a sizeable drink. Then, she sets it back down. "Excuse me, gentlemen. I'll be right back." Standing up, she turns around and then immediately trips and goes sprawling in the direction of the newly standing Fat Man.

"Really?" Oliver seems pretty pleased himself to have accidentally discovered some friends of Eliana — though he's a bit wary of Jack when he refers to her as his 'ladyfriend'. Eliana is like a sister to him, so it's only a natural reaction. "Then maybe you guys can tell me why she disappeared for so long there. I was about to go to the police." But then Cass is leaving and … tripping. The artist half-rises from his seat and reflexively reaches out to catch her, but he's not near fast enough to make it in time. "Whoa!"

The Fat Man doesn't even see Cass coming. One minute he is walking toward the door, the next he's sent sprawling, tumbling backward and banging his head on the edge of the table, knocking the poor man unconscious! He collapses on the ground, blood trickling from the back of his head. One of the waitresses freaks out upon seeing blood, "Oh my God! He's dead!" Mr. Hendrickson, meanwhile, looks up from his drink to stare down at the Fat Man, before locking his gaze on Cass. Ah, /her/. The clumsy girl.

Jack is up and at Cass's side in a flash. True to his priorities, his glass of vodka is still in-hand as he helps Cass to her feet, then stoops down beside the fat man and holds two fingers under his nose. "Shut up," he snaps at the waitress absently. After taking a sip from his drink, he sets it aside and fishes out a hanky, which he presses to the man's cut head.

Though she wishes she could say it's just the alcohol, Cass is just naturally pretty clumsy. She doesn't even realize who she's falling toward, but she pinwheels her arms a bit to try and keep herself upright. Alcohol plus gravity is an equation where gravity always wins. Before she realizes it she's fallen on a large squishy man. And someone's yelling that he's dead. This, in turn freaks Cass out. "Oh God." Allowing Jack to help her up, she quickly drops back down to check a pulse. "I am so sorry," she tells the unconscious man.

Unsurprisingly, The Fat Man is not dead. But he /is/ bleeding! The Fat Man makes no move to respond, being unconscious, and all. He probably has a concusion, or some other head-related injury. Who can say? Meanwhile, Mr. Hendrickson glares down at Cass, clearly displeased! "You clumsy girl, look what you've done."

Oliver stands in shocked silence for a while before he finally manages to come back to life. He also drops into a crouch next to the Fat Man, noting the blood. Immediately, he reaches into his pocket to withdraw his cell phone and starts to dial 911. "He needs a doctor," he mutters to Cass and Jack. Then, when Hendrickson offers his input, the artist glares up at him. Hendrickson is /huge/ in comparison to Oliver, but the small man is feisty if anything. "Hey, back off, buddy. It was an accident." Then, he's talking into his phone: "Hello? Yes, there's been an accident."

"Here. Press on this." Jack offers the bloody hanky to Cass, then unlimbers his body and stands, interposing himself between woman, fallen man, and the enormous Mr. Hendrickson. "Oi. You're a big 'un, aren't ye? Shove off. We've got this in-hand." Like Oliver, he's much smaller, but that doesn't seem to dissuade him. Both hands thrust into his coat pockets, he glares up at the taller man's chin.

There is a pulse and that helps Cass stop freaking out so much. Of course, she's still really upset about the fact that she just injured some stranger. When Hendrickson speaks up, she snaps her head up and sees him there, her eyes widen. Oh, she remembers him from before and she immediately scrambles to her feet to make herself a less vulnerable and more mobile target. "Don't pick me up." It's strange the things that immediately come to mind and leak out before you can stop them. Then, of course, Jack is shoving a bloody hanky at her and, well, at least it's something to do other than stand warily. "Jack, don't pick a fight," she warns before stooping down to put pressure on the wound.

Mr. Hendrickson frowns, directing his attention away from Cass and to Jack and Oliver. He glances between the two of them a moment before speaking, his metal teeth barely visible in his mouth. "Watch your tone," is all he says, before going back to his drink, seeming to simply ignore his former client, not at all worried for his safety or well-being! Besides, Clumsy Cass, Scrawny Guy and… Jack have it under control. Nothing for him to do.

It's not long before Oliver is off the phone again, and he crouches once more. "Paramedics should be here soon. It'll be okay." Hendrickson is shot a glare behind thin-framed glasses. Nice fella, the way he's so concerned for his buddy. "Prick," he grumbles under his breath.

"Aye," Jack agrees. For a moment he seems on the verge of pressing the issue with Mr. Hendrickson, but in the end he thinks better of it. Never a good idea to pick a fight with someone who's 432 feet taller than you are. Instead, he turns his back and crouches down beside Cass again. "Our new buddy Oliver's got help on the way. They'll take care of this bloke, don't you worry. It wasn't your fault."

Well, at least Cass remained with both feet on the ground this encounter with Hendrickson. Keeping pressure on the wound, she looks between Oliver and Jack and then back up, up and up to Mr. Hendrickson. "I…really. I didn't mean to. It just happened so fast." Great, so she's now she's knocked a man unconscious when she was just trying to go out and forget about past events. Maybe she should just stay in her apartment for a very long while and hope everything just goes back to normal on its own. She takes deep breaths to force herself not break down and just start crying right here. Luckily, Cass is made of stronger stuff and the very idea of crying in front of all these strangers keeps her from doing it.

Mr. Hendrickson doesn't say a word to Cass, he just shakes his head. With that, the tall man reaches into his pocket, pulls out some cash, and places it on the table. He then picks up his fedora and briefcase, stepping over the Fat Man on his way out the door. Not even a glance back!

Just as Oliver stated, it doesn't take too long for paramedics to arrive and whisk away the Fat Man, leaving the rest of the cocktail bar's patrons to return to whatever they had planned for the evening. It might put a bit of a damper on things, but at least there's alcohol. Alcohol makes anyone forget.

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