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Caritas; Saturday Evening

Chuck was at work but that didn't mean he was doing much bartending. He had brought his laptop with him and was doing researchy type things. If there was one things Basses were good at, it was research.

Cool research type things, not lame nerd research type things. There was a difference.

And, surprisingly, little of this had to do with porn.

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Sing.

Drink.

Francine would be heading for the end of the bar that was farthest from the zombies. She knew they were safe in here, but that didn't mean she wanted to be near them.

She'd also be wearing a tastefully low-cut dress. When you have a favor to ask and nothing specific to badgerface over, it can't hurt to go the opposite direction, no?

"Hi, Chuck."

"Hello, Francine," Chuck said offhandedly at first, since he was reading something. Then he spared a glance towards her for a moment and, wow, did that change his disposition quick. "Hello, Francine."

"My face is up here," she answered, mostly amused since that was pretty much the effect she'd been hoping for.

And then ruined the line by sitting down on a barstool so her face was not, in fact, up there any longer. ~~Nor was Merlin over her shoulder, except in spirit.~~

"Sorry," Chuck said, sparing another glance before looking Francine in the eyes. "Oh who are we kidding, I'm not sorry."

Francine snorted. "Mm, cool refreshing honesty. Well, refreshing coming from you." Mind you, the cosmopolitan boob-flashing exercise would play better of she wasn't also nervously adjusting the top of her dress every two minutes.

The adjusting was sort of distracting. But since it was established he was staring he didn't feel the need to be stealthy about it anymore. "I'm working on the honesty thing. I'm getting better."

Liar.

"Is there something I can get you?"

"A Coke?" Ooh, live dangerously, Francie! "Is that why you've been going to church?" she asked, momentarily distracted herself by actual curiosity.

"Partially," Chuck said as he went to getting Francine her drink. "I'm attempting to be a better person."

He slid over Francine's drink, plain, no roofies or rum or anything. See? Better person. "The other reason is because I like Castiel."

"Mmm-hmm." To the 'better person.' Granted it took effort not to give him the benefit of the doubt, but it was well-spent effort. "Castiel the angel?"

Yes, she sniffed the drink before she tasted it.

"That would be the one," Chuck said. "Unless there's another guy with the unfortunate luck of having that name roaming around town."

"Gives confusing sermons, wears a trench coat, may not have the right muscles in his face to actually smile?"

Chuck laughed. "Yeah that one. I realize he's not exactly cuddly, but he does have a sense of humor. Kind of."

He might've been imagining that.

Edited 2009-10-11 01:20 (UTC)

Francine sipped her soda and eyed him. "You actually do like him. You're seriously not just schmoozing him up to try to keep out of Hell?"

Sadly, she was still Francine and thus did not think to add 'or get him into bed.' It's not that she'd put that past Chuck, just that she'd never think of it on her own.

"From what I've gathered, I actually haven't done too much to gain entrance to Hell," Chuck said. "I guess God's more laid back than I thought."

"Really? The drinking, the lying, the drugs? The, um. You know. With boys?" Not that the last one was of particular interest or anything. "None of that would send you to Hell?"

"I actually think the you know with boys counts as a public service." Because he was really, really good at it. "That actually might help me get into Heaven."

Sigh. And she was requesting Chuck bass' interpretation of an angel's opinion on Unconventional You Know...why, again? Still, it gave her an opening.

"Actually that's kind of why I came in."

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