#bartender!danny

This fic got 28 votes, which means 78 lines. I can't finish it all in one go, so I'm gonna break it up. Here are the first 28 lines.

Dick looked over as a familiar face loomed over his table. Tall and built, one would think he was he bouncer instead of the bartender if it weren’t for towel around his neck.

It was hard to ignore the almost disappointed look Danny sent his way each night.

It was reminiscent of Alfred in a way, so sad. It made Dick grimace as he downed his last shot.

“You know, you only got one liver in there Dick? As much as I love the amount of dollars you throw my way, this isn’t healthy.”

“Real subtle, Danzzo.. real subtle. Can I get a refill?”

Danny threw down his towel.

“No.”

“No?”

“Dick.. it a quarter till four.. the bar closed down like three hours ago.”

Dick glanced at the clock on the wall, the hands danced as he tried to read the time to the point that he had to give up before his head split.

“Shit.. I guess it is. Sorry about that man I must’ve dosed for a bit.”

Danny sighed as he sat down beside him.

Uh oh, time for the weekly spiel.

“Richard.. look at me. I’m worried here, and this is coming from a guy who’s whole job is to feed people’s addictions. This is getting out of hand.. you’re getting out of hand. How often do we have this talk? How often do I have to stay up just so I can be sure that you are at least sober enough that I can send you home without worrying that the next time I hear about you is on an obituary?”

Danny sighed as he pulled at his hair,

“This used to be a once or twice a month thing man! You would come in, drink and shoot the shit about work and the family. I know ever since the.. accident. Life has been hard to process. Heaven forbid anyone who has to go through that.”

“let me grieve in fucking peace..”

“THIS ISN’T GRIEVING! This is drowning out your emotions so that you don’t have to feel and one of these days you’re not going to get back up and I-”

Danny took a second to center himself and Dick almost felt sad when he did.

Sometimes it felt like Danny was the only person who gave a shit anymore.

Dick scoffed at the thought as he fiddled with the empty shot, he tried to not let the guilt set in.

It was always this same song and dance. Yet Danny didn’t even have the nerve to say it to his face.

“I’m just saying that Jason wouldn’t want you to join him so soon man. “

Danny’s eyes finally left that place that they always seemed to focus on over his shoulder before he pinned Dick with a look of pity.

So far it is! Ty.

The rest of the afternoon before the bar actually opened, Mo showed Danny how to serve the draft beer, how to use the bar sink and register, and where the cleaning stuff was. He picked it up pretty quickly for a wide-eyed bumpkin. Still, Mo wasn't gonna give him any more complicated tasks on day one. The first patron came in when Mo unlocked the door at five.

"Kid, that's about the only thing you've said that gets you a point." Mo looked at the couple of printer pages in her hand. "That and the fact that I don't exactly have people lining up to work here." She folded the papers up. "Alright, I'll give you a chance. Lemme show you how to pour a drink so you don't completely embarrass me." Danny blinked, eyes wide. "Wait, just like that?" "Consider it a practical interview. If you don't completely fuck up, or run away crying, you'll get paid."

Thank you!