Dance Dance || Acacia & Open
“Give me a shot of tequila,” Acacia said to the bartender, her hand tapping on the bar top. She smiling winningly at the stunning creature that passed the drink and before she knocked it back and called for another. She was tired of being in this town, tired of this mission. It was boring, dull and uneventful. Even the missing person's cases that people whispered about were silly. A bookstore owner and a news reporter? Yawn. Why couldn’t someone more interesting vanish?
Two. Three. Four. Her drinks went back. Down the gullet and the glass hit the bar top. “Thanks, sweet cheeks,” she said as the fifth shot hit the bar and the sixth was queued up, waiting for her. She tapped a finger on the bar top, her eyes scanning the bar around her. The Jukebox in the corner glowed happily, a static humming coming from it after the last song had ended. She smiled and kicked back that sixth drink before she strode over to the music and selected something. She didn’t even care what it was, so long as it had a beat and she could dance, that was what she wanted to do.
She reached for the person beside her, her 6′3 height less of a thought to her after six shots. “Dance with me,” she asked sweetly. “I’m bored and you look like you know how to treat a girl.” And if they didn’t, there as was Glock pressed to the inside of her thigh that would take care of that issue.