Location: A mundane bar. When: Sometime after 11 pm.
"If you're going to sit there and drink, we do it quietly."
He understood a crowded bar, taking a seat beside someone when there really wasn't anywhere else to sit made sense. He wouldn't complain or even give a sideways glance at that setting because it was part of the unwritten bar code: you sat and drank in silence and didn't acknowledge the person whose shoulder you almost brushed.
But this was not the case. Maybe it was a regular seat, maybe whoever it was had business with him. James just wanted one drink without interruption. Four fingers of whiskey sat in front of him, freshly poured, and he intended on swallowing it back without much conversation to chase the burn down.
So he grasped the glass, knocked it back and sighed at the familiar heat that ran from lips to stomach. The glass returned to the wood with a clink and James wet his lips with his tongue.
"Okay. Now you can talk. Within reason." He paused, signaling the bartender for another, "And one for ... them."
