setitallaflame:
Continued from here:
@roadhouserunner
Lucan was supposed to meet his contact - a woman who had hidden on-the-run mutants in the past - at the diner one town over. However, traffic hadn’t been as bad as he’d anticipated, and he’d arrived hours before their scheduled meet time. And, if he wanted to remain inconspicuous, he couldn’t exactly spend all of that time in his truck. So he picked a random bar, deciding to nurse a beer for a while and eavesdrop on its inhabitants. Never hurt to hear the local gossip, which mutants inevitably always ended up being a part of.
He murmured his thanks when the woman slid a coaster under his drink, commenting, “Might make more sense to just tell people what’s on tap.”
“I don’t get paid enough to remember 15 rotating craft beers.” Technically true, ish, since there were only ten on draft at any given time. It was the bottled beers that got away from her. Usually swill, anyway.
Jo moved down the bar to collect a couple of empty bowls and stray coasters. Returning, she set the bowls down with a clack lost in the surrounding chatter. Her gaze flicked over the customer and his glass. He was really taking his time with that beer, it was going to be thoroughly English by the time he was done with it.
“You want some pretzels?”
















