fandomtownies | Caritas [Thursday evening]

"I don't even know what I just said," he admitted. "But yes, your eyes are nice. They're just...expressive. It's hard to find the words. I like all of you and I think I've told you that. All of you is nice. I just like your eyes a lot. When you smile, it goes to your eyes. I like that."

"Thank you. You're such a lightweight," Robin sighed. "You only had like four drinks."

"Four drinks is four more than I usually have," he pointed out. "Someone thinks what I usually drink is boring. You've seen what I keep inside my refrigerator. Is lightweight not a prerequisite for dating you?"

"No, it just means I'm going to make fun of you," Robin told him, thoroughly amused. "And I'll be nice and help you deal with your hangover."

"I will bet you that I won't have a hangover," he said boldly and foolishly, "because I am not intoxicated."

"Go back to trying to flirt with me," Robin said, leaning her elbows on the bar and taking a sip of her beer.

"All right," he said and quieted for a moment to try and figure out how to flirt with her. "So. Oh, got something. Are there any drinks called Pretty Bartenders? Because, if there are, it was named after you."

Yes, just, everyone, marvel at the badness.

Robin bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Awww. There isn't a drink called that, as far as I know. But that's cute of you to say."

"I could make one," he decided. "There should be one. And I could say I invented it."

"...okay, what kind of drink would it be? If I made one right now, what kind of glass should I use?" she asked, eyeing him.

"It would be a good drink," he declared. "Small glass. But not too small. There's a lot of pretty that needs to be seen."

Yeah.

Robin stared at him and reached behind the bar. "Highball glass? Rocks glass? Martini glass? Champagne flute? Shot glass? Cordial glass?" she asked, lining them up on the counter.

"There are different types?" Fraser muttered, staring at the glasses before pointing at the rocks glass. It looked the most familiar. "That one. I have plastic cups at home. They're just called plastic cups. I should name them."

"Different cups for different drinks, sweetie," she said, putting the others away.

"Drinks shouldn't be as hard as shopping for new pants, darling," he retorted. "Nothing should be as hard as shopping."

"Shopping isn't hard either. What do you want to put in this, then?" she asked, smiling.

"Shopping is too hard," he argued and then surveyed the bottles behind her. He had no idea what anything was but he didn't want her to know that. You know, because she couldn't already guess. "Hmmm. Orange juice and that coconut tasting alcohol that was in a drink I had."

That sounded pretty good.

"Coconut rum, or liqueur?" she asked, pouring in one part orange juice. Probably best to keep the base non-alcoholic.

"Both," he said without really thinking about it. Why not, right?

She stared at him, and added half a part of each. "Okay. What else?"

He eyed the bottles again and then pointed at one. "That one with the fellow who looks like a captain of some kind of pirate ship."

"That's rum, honey," she said, and added half a part. "This is a very rum-y drink."

"Rum, right," he said, nodding. "And that should be all so it doesn't get too watered down." Or, you know, too much weirder.

He stared at the glass for a few moments. "You can drink it now."

"You want me to?" she asked, just a little warily.

"Well, it's named after you," he said, nodding. "I want you to, yes."

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Re: The Bar [11/29]