2015.03.18 - Five Drinks for the Price of One

"Man... I thought we were cool..."

A sketchy, trenchcoat-wearing mutant sets his half-finished glass of cognac back down on the bar, and looks at the bartender with his best approximation of sad puppy dog eyes. The fact that it works is a major testament to the man's ability to convey emotion, as his 'puppy dog eyes' are completely black with red irises. But somehow he manages to avoid looking sinister.

The bartender looks back at him, seemingly perplexed. "Huh? Of course we're cool... who said we aren't?" Wiping down the glasses behind the bar, she seems to actually be worried that she's caused the older man some sort of offence.

"If we were cool, would you really have given me Courvoisier when I axed for cognac? I been coming here long enough for you to know I'm a Remy Martin man, haven't I?"

A few seconds later, the man is drinking a free glass of Remy Martin. And that's how Gambit got two drinks for the price of one.

"Merde!" Just as he's about to take a sip of his second glass of cognac, his phone begins to vibrate. A sure sign of an incoming text message.

As the door of the bar opens, a well known face to Harry's Hideout walks into the bar. Her eyes almost instantly fall on Gambit, as she slides a hand on her hips and just smirks ever so slightly. Jean begins to walk towards Gambit, as she flips her hair over her shoulder saying, "Remy." She tsks softly looking over at the bartender and says, "Put what he is having on my tab. Yet...he only gets Courvoisier from this point on." She moves to sit down next to him, as she adds, "I will have Guinness." Jean crosses her legs and folds her hands over her knees watching the man a moment.

"I sensed your static the second you walked into town, Remy. Here to misbehave or are you visiting?" She cocks an eyebrow with a playful smirk on her face.

For some reason, despite her regular status, the bartender seems less than happy to see Jean arrive. She doesn't quite give her the stink eye, but she certainly seems a bit frigid when she takes the ginger's order. "Absolutely. One Guinness coming up. Be careful though, the last time someone offered to buy Gambit's drinks they had to take out a second mortgage."

She busies herself with getting the woman's beer. It doesn't take much time to pour a draught beer, and the glass is in front of her within a few seconds.

"You gotta be careful with that, Cher. If the wrong people hear my real name... well... I owe a lot of people money is all."

It's true. Gambit's credit score is pretty close to a zero. It's virtually impossible to get a credit score that low.

"But I guess I don't gotta worry about bill collectors with you around, huh? You can just scramble their brains like eggs and make 'em think they owe Ol' Gambit a couple mil." He begins the slow process of savoring his glass of cognac, possible because after this he'll have to switch to a brand he considers lesser.

As she takes the beer, she takes a good sip of it and sets it down, "You have a point. Cut him off at 5." She looks back at Gambit and presses her lips into a fine line, "You know I don't do it like that...Gambit." Jean tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear as she leans back in the stool slightly and cocks her head to the side, "And something tells me that you do not need my help with money." She raises her beer to the man before taking another sip.

"So what do we owe the pleasure. Are you in trouble, or just visiting?" Her words are not judgemental but shows a certain degree of concern for the man. "You don't look hurt or worse for the wear. So I hope your here visiting some?"

"I thought it was obvious. Did you really not know why I come up here so often?" The palm of Gambit's hand floats over his glass, fingers loosely gripping the glass' rim as he swirls the drink around slowly. Amid all of the other aromas in the bar, pleasant and otherwise, the smell of his drink isn't really detectable. However, the smell of his coat definitely is. There is a hint of cologne, but it's unlikely that he's ever actually washed the coat. So... it smells like that.

Turning his head in her direction for a second, he tries to lock eyes with her. There are the puppy dog eyes again. "I thin it's time we finally were honest about our feelings for each other. I've come to steal you away from all these annoying teenagers and take you on the road for a life of constant excitement and unimaginable romance."

Behind the bar, the bartender somehow manages to give Jean an evil look while also making a fake barfing motion.

While listening to Gambit, Jean takes a good swig of her beer, yet when his reason hits home. She coughs and two streams of it come out of her nose. She jumps up from her seat, turning away from Gambit. She brings her hand to her nose and moves to reach for some napkins. She continues to cough as she troes to catch her breath and clean her face at the same time.

She composes herself and sets the napkins on the bar looking at him. "Are you drunk?" She cocks an eyebrow and looks him up and down, as her eyes narrow, "It's not April Fool's yet." She hmmmms as she leans against the bar patting her shirt with some clean napkins, "Why are you really here Gambit. And remember with some focus I can get past your static. I am just not as graceful as Charles."

Fortunately, Gambit's drink was in his hand, or he'd likely have to cough it up as well. As the streams come out of her nose he almost immediately begins laughing, so hard in fact that his face turns a bit red. But it's over pretty quickly, and his laughter has mostly subsided by the time she's started to blot her shirt. "Oh man... the look on your face..."

"I'm sorry, Cher. But I couldn't resist. You'd be surprised how often that line works on bored housewives though..."

Apparently Gambit would rather deflect the conversation than give a straight answer. But that's pretty typical for him. "Nothing you need to worry your pretty ginger head about, seriously. I'm just in the neighborhood."

It would absolutely take a telepath to suss out when Gambit is lying and when he isn't. He tells both truth and lie with equal conviction. But for now, he seems more interested in finishing off his Remy Martin than anything else.

"Hey sweetheart, when you've got a second can you bring me a..." He almost looks like he's gritting his teeth "... Courvoisier? My friend here is super strict. I think she has control issues." As she smirks, Jean moves to sit back down and crosses her legs. "It's the teacher in me." She takes another sip of her beer before she sets it down and turns her attention on Gambit. "You never go somewhere without a reason...but I won't push. How are you doing? Your looking well if that is any consolation." She turns her attention to the jukebox, it suddenly starts playing on it's own. A simple Jazz piece by Jamie Cullum called, "London Skies." She looks back at Gambit with a raised eyebrow of curiosity waiting to hear his answer.

While the bartender prepares his drink, Gambit looks down at himself. "Huh. Now that you mention it, I AM looking pretty good. I started eatin' some of that yogurt with the diseases in it. Supposed to be real good for your guts and stuff."

His drink gets plunked down, and Gambit starts on it pretty much immediately. "I'd say that you were looking good, but we both know that would be an understatement. And if I told you how I thought you really looked you'd probably get a swelled head." He looks over in the general direction of the jukebox, critically appraising the song choice. Apparently he doesn't hate it, because he simply drinks his cognac with no comment. No comment about the music, anyway... he's got plenty of opinions about everything else.

"You're probably going to think I'm being a poor gentleman, but I've got business that just won't keep until tomorrow. So I better get to it before you liquor me up anymore."

As she lets out a laugh, "If I knew what you really thought, I would box your ears and most likely make you skip around like a 10 year old school girl." Jean stands and walks over to Gambit and leans in and kisses him gently on the cheek, "You know how to contact me if you need me." She whispers softly to him, "Be good...or at least don't get caught." She winks at him playfully and turns on her heel, walking over to the bartender to pay the tab. She half expects Gambit to be gone by the time she turns around giving the scoundrel the clear opportunity to do so.

There's a strong possibility that his 'business' was a convenient excuse or a deliberate lie. But if the business does in fact exist, it's almost certainly not on the level.

"Aw come on now, you're gonna make me blush in public!" It's a rather mild protest against an affectionate gesture that he clearly doesn't mind. Though he might wish that he'd shaved sometime in the last couple of days. But then again, facial stubble has pretty much always been a standard part of his wardrobe.

He looks grateful for the prolonged period during which Jean's back is turned on him, but he doesn't leave until the last possible moment. Still, when she turns around he's not only gone, but he's somehow gotten an extremely large trucker to take his seat. The guy is even finishing off the rest of his drink. One has to wonder how he arranged that in such a short period of time, or if it was just a bizarre coincidence.