scarlet begonias

“That’s another one up you have on me. I don’t know how I made it to the level I’m at. I can’t remember shit. The recipes at the restaurant, I just end up throwing shit in that sounds familiar. I’m actually the worst.” She snorted but kept a proud grin on her face. Riku rolled her eyes, “Pfft, if an expert like yourself is giving me the go ahead on my drinks, then fuck them.” She gave a small thank you before taking a long sip of her new drink. Riku set it down, savoring the taste before continuing her dish. Her eyebrows raised in curiosity as Mickey explained her delicacy. “Garlic with extra milk and butter…” Riku pondered on it for a moment, her lips poking out. “I’m impressed, those could fix anything. Is it minced or are you using garlic powder?”

“Listen, if I tried just throwin’ shit into a pot, I wouldn’t even come up with dog food. If that ain’t a talent, I don’t know what talent is. You make flavor-town look like a damn trailer park.” Mickey hoisted her small body up onto the edge of the counter, letting her feet dangle as she sipped at her drink, keeping herself far enough away so that she didn’t continue to swipe half of the ingredients. “You can make our next drink--that being said, I ain’t gonna be drivin’ home tonight, so I hope you don’t mind a couch-guest ‘til the mornin’.” She rolled her eyes dramatically, as if Riku was uncultured swine for even asking. “Minced, of course..” she sighed, smiling a little since she couldn’t keep the sass up for long. “Cooked up in a bit of olive oil first, though. Also basil! Basil makes every single thing better. I have a lil’ plant in my window, but I only get about five or six leaves every few months..”

“Deal! I completely failed mixology in school. But fuck it, my drinks were delicious to me! Who cares if they were completely spiked, they got the job done.” Riku laughed as she swiped her vegetables into her pan before grabbing her onions. She raised an eyebrow to Mickey with her lips poked out in concern. “And how exactly do you even make that tragedy taste edible?”

“That’s alright--I dropped outta’ high school and I definitely don’t have any mixology in my repertoire. Just good at rememberin’ stuff, I guess. Ended up bein’ way more useful than I ever thought.” Mickey shook her head, “And I’ve had your drinks. They’re surely strong, but they’re not bad at all. Besides, I’m not quite one to judge.” Standing up proudly, she passed Riku her glass with a grin. “Garlic,” she said simply. “I swear to baby Jesus, that shit changes everything. Also like, half as much milk and twice as much butter as the box says, among some other random shit. Fuck calories--I’m here for a good time, not a long time.”

Riku snorted, poking her lips out to the other woman before lowering her head back down to her vegetables. “To be fair, I only let you come here because you can mix a mean Long Island. So I guess it’s a fair trade for me.” She winked at the other.

Mickey grinned proudly. “That I do,” she said, tossing another piece of bell pepper in her mouth before turning to refill their aforementioned glasses. “I will make you drinks all day if you keep feedin’ me like this. I don’t even have enough counter space to make myself a proper meal. But I can tell ya’ one thing; I can turn a blue box of mac n’ cheese into a goddamn masterpiece.”

“How did you know?” Daisy questioned, impressed by the guess. “He does that horrible mumble rap shit.”

Savannah couldn’t relate to what Mickey was going through since her training was more careful and extensive. That and she had about seven inches over the younger woman. Her lips were sucked in in attempt to keep from smiling or laughing since Mickey finally noticed her laughing. Instead, she took one of Mickey’s arms and very slowly lifted it up, totally realizing she forgot ear muffs for the session today.

But after what she’d just witnessed, it was totally worth it to end it after this little incident anyways. “You’re fine Mickey. You might have a bruise on your face and some sore arms but you’re fine.” She answered loud enough to get past the ringing in her ears. “Thanks for that laugh though. I needed that.”

Mickey had never been so thankful to see her appendages, sighing in relief as Savannah lifted her arm up. “Oh thank goodness..” she said. “You ever seen a one-armed bartender? I sure haven’t. Don’t plan on bein’ one either.” So maybe she hit her head a little bit too. The redhead bit her lip to keep herself from babbling anymore.

It was good to laugh every now and then. Real or not. Her prank was suppose to be harmless. Savannah anticipated that Mickey would at least have a sore shoulder and stumble backwards a little. That’s what should have happened. But this was the one time that Savannah didn’t anticipate Mickey’s size to everything else. 

So to watch the smaller woman be knocked on her ass was surprising. And hilarious. A look of surprise crossed her face initially and before she could even stop it, Savannah burst into loud laughter. It felt so foreign but it also felt good. Like a laugh she hadn’t had in a long time. She doubled over, trying to catch her breath, sides aching, as she grabbed the shot gun, set it on the table before going to her knees next to Mickey. Still laughing. It was only when her sides hurt too much that Savannah was able to reign it in, wiping the tears from her eyes gently and finally able to catch her breath. “Oh. My. God. I did not see that coming.” She grinned, dimples out in full force and trying to force herself from laughing again.

“That is why we are at the estate in the Hamptons and not my apartment in the city. Blow the ceiling off and it can easily be replaced.” She shrugged. “Oh c’mon its not that hard. This is a more modern pump shotgun. With new technology there is hardly any recoil and its easily to hold because the frame is light weight metal. Look.” As further incentive, Savannah grabbed a blank shotgun shell, loaded it and cocked it before pointing at the target and firing. Her shoulder easily went with the recoil, and she was picking up the empty shell. “See? Nothing to it.”

“Said no one ever...” Mickey mumbled, wondering just how life would be if money simply wasn’t an object. Since working for Savannah, her income had definitely grown, but she was only comfortable. Watching the tall woman, Mickey had to swallow a knot in her throat at the sight, trying to put the fact that she'd never looked more attractive out of her mind. Savannah made it look easy, and quite possibly gave the smaller woman a bit of false confidence. “Nothing to it,” she repeated a little nervously, taking the gun and doing everything Savannah did before propping up against her body like she did. 

“Running is all well and good if there are knives or fists only as weapons. But can’t outrun a gun. And trust me, I’ve tried.” Savannah grumbled, her shoulder aching dully at the memory as she pulled out small boxes of blanks, setting them on the folding table. Looking at the smaller gun, Savannah smirked as she picked up a shot gun. “Nope. This one. And relax, its not like I’m putting you through intense training today.” She held it out with both hands with a more innocent looking smile. “This is just an introduction. And after this you can have all the expensive drinks you want. My treat.”

Her eyes landed on the tiniest one in the case, gesturing to it as she looked at Savannah. “You’re gonna start me on like...this one, right?” she asked hopefully. Mickey was...small, for lack of a better word. And she was a runner, not a fighter. “I’m gonna need a drink after this. I hope you know that.”

Bram did as he was instructed and sat down tentatively on the barstool, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t quite trust himself to speak without letting his emotions slip and he wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about it anyway, so instead he just nodded slightly.

When the stranger nodded almost nervously, Mickey bent down a little to get eye-level with him as she gently pressed the ice against his cheek. “Hey,” she said, a little softer than her regular chipper bartender voice. “You came to the right place. If someone’s out there tryin’ to get ya, ain’t nobody comin’ in here. I got a shotgun behind the bar that I’m way too scared to use but I’ll bet Joe ain’t too scared.” Mickey smiled as she gestured to the other bartender. “You want a drink? Somethin’ to numb the pain?”

“Yeah, a few things. Mostly I regret not goin’ to college, but I was broker than the ten commandments when I moved here and the thought of loans always scared the hell outta’ me..”