He tended to position himself in a place he could see the majority of the bar, minus the champagne rooms, at all times. At least with a quick scan of his eyes. In the morning, however, he didn’t care as much. The traffic was minimal until the noon hour when the people on their lunch break would stop by for a quick dance or just to get in a couple drinks to get them through the day. Sometimes it was for a fix, from one of the more shady individuals that inhabited the Dive. The kind of people Finn didn’t remove unless they were causing problems, he saw something openly, but always kept an eye on. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what they were doing but he also wasn’t in a place to judge someone’s lifestyle. Not that he wouldn’t do it anyways, but he chose his battles and taking out criminals was not his war.
When the familiar woman entered he didn’t glance up at first, just waited for them to sit down while he continued setting things up for the bartender and opening the place up. Her voice rang through him when she spoke and instantly had blue eyes shooting up from what he’d been doing. “Hey.” He responded, his tongue ran along the back of his teeth as it often did when he was thinking or pissed off. With him it was often both. Just another tic he’d developed in an effort to filter the venom that far too often spewed from his mouth in the most volatile ways and led to one too many altercations in his past. “We’ve opened at nine since I could remember, gotta get everything ready. Dances don’t start till noon if that’s what you’re here for though.” Which he wondered why she was there, so early in the morning anyways.
“A drink?” Finn raises an eyebrow. “I’m no bartender but if you keep it simple I know my way around back here. What do you want?” The question was two-fold, both what she wanted to drink and what she wanted from him. He figured the messages during the storm were out of boredom, which he’d entertained. But, now? Finn had no reason to humor her anymore, as she made clear she didn’t need him around her and her son.
“Nine?” Miriam snorts, a little surprised. Though, the period of her life in which she’d been practically a regular at the bar was also a period in which Miriam didn’t know what the world looked like between the hours of 4am and 2pm. Oh, to be twenty-something and nocturnal, with nothing but every bad decisions to make. “You caught me. I’ll just wait around and be the first in line for a private show. Who’s your favorite girl? Maybe you can join us.” Miriam's narrowed eyes look mischievous situated over her sharp grin.
Miriam knows she doesn’t have any right to be this familiar with Finn. Not after the last time they’d seen each other. When he asks her what she wants, she knows he’s not just asking about her drink. But she doesn’t give a straight answer. “My heart says ‘tequila,’ but my watch says ‘be a responsible adult.’” Miriam drops her bag on the counter and slides onto a barstool, her heels hooking around the footrest beneath her.
“Heard through the grapevine about your apartment,” she admits, her typical grin softening. “I’m real sorry.”
