#c;davis

                                          “Davis.”

                     The name left him in an almost inaudible gust of breath, eyes trained on the familiar golden head of hair from across the room, sitting glumly at the bar. Their last interaction, at this very same bar, Adrian and Davis had nearly gotten into a fist fight. Funny how things could change drastically in a matter of a couple months. How their relationship could. One of his best friends was carrying the man’s child, for godsake. Adrian had promised to be supportive in whatever decision Hazel made, and if that decision included keeping the baby, well. Though the thought made his teeth grind in his reluctance and in his pride, he would have to be supportive of Davis too, IF the man decided to stick around. If he didn’t, well… Adrian wouldn’t be civil. Not even close. 

                     Taking a deep breath, he made his way toward Davis, until he was pulling out the stool directly beside him to sit in. 

        Adrian couldn’t understand why his colleagues were so adamant about going out, especially considering everything going on currently, but he tried to. He tried to in the form of finally agreeing to their pleas for him to join them on a bar crawl in an effort to ‘blow of some steam.’ Whatever the hell that meant anymore. With Grant Morgan’s murder, Emily’s trial, and an abundance of crime seemingly increasing by the day in the North End, knocking back jägerbombs didn’t see like the best call for action. Nevertheless, after enough probing and prodding from his friends on the force, Adrian finally gave in. He could manage to be a little irresponsible for a night... Right?

         Well, apparently he could. With the excitement that came with Adrian joining them out for once, the officer was slid shot after shot ( how he agreed to it, he couldn’t remember ) until for once, Adrian really was loosening up. In other words; he was drunk, or getting there at least. 

        So when an even more hammered, shamelessly flirting Ramirez sloshed half his drink onto Adrian’s shirt while his attention was on the bartender, Adrian just laughed, unable to find it in him to be even a little upset. He just patted his friend on the shoulder, excused himself, and left officer Ramirez to embarrass himself when it came to courting the obviously irritated barkeep. 

        Still chuckling softly to himself as he slipped into the restrooms, Adrian started to scrub at his dark shirt with paper towel, trying to get it out in his inebriated state when he heard the door to the men’s room open. He didn’t even look up, just assumed it was a defeated Ramirez coming to check on him, so he spoke up blindly from his spot at the sink. “You know, I should make you pay for my dry cleaning, but seeing as you most definitely just spent all your money tipping that bartender, I’ll let this one slide---” Looking up in the mirror, expecting to find Ramirez’s face, Adrian stopped in his tracks when his eyes found the last person he’d thought he’d see on his night out, and subsequently, the last he wanted, too. Davis fucking Sampson.