Disclaimer: Not mine.
Rating: er... 13+ language.
Pairings: Grizz/Barmaid, Nate/Beer, Nate/Dom, GW/Glare
Notes: Seriously written while chopping onions for dinner. Set: SIX PACK era
The Asparagus Turns At Midnight
by ALC Punk!
Nathan blamed his mother for the asparagus.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
Tilting his head up without removing it from his fist, he regarded Theo. "Having a beer."
Without asking, the larger man settled across the table, thunking his own frothy mug in front of him. "You're dipping asparagus. In beer."
"Yeah." That, too. Nate swirled the stalk around and then pulled it out and took a bite. Mmm. Tasted like little trees, or something. Sometimes, Nate worried about the memories he had of his childhood. The Six Pack were taking a breather between jobs. It was the only reason he allowed himself to drink.
"You are so fucking weird," Theodore Grizwalski informed him before downing half his mug in one go.
Nathan figured mocking him for his name would be pointless, considering his own long list of names. Longer than his arm, really. So he took another bite of his asparagus instead. Maybe he should introduce it into the Pack's survival rations. They had to have freeze-dried asparagus in MREs, didn't they?
"It's an acquired taste," Nate said, dignity dripping from every word. At least, he thought it was dignity. It might have been beer.
Nathan was pretty sure he'd gotten his alcohol tolerance from his dad. Well, his adoptive dad. He sure as hell didn't get it from Redd. He'd once seen the woman he called 'mom' drink an entire platoon of soldiers under the table. Ah, good times. Well, the post-Apocalyptic (har-har) future had been kind of good times. They'd been a family, at least. Okay, so she'd abandoned him (and Slym had, too). And, maybe he was nothing but a clone and a waste of time travel and space.
But, really, was that any reason to be depressed?
"You should, you know."
"I like beer."
Theo blinked at him. "Cable. Man. You are so toasted."
Well, yeah. And on two, no less. Definitely Slym's fault. He burped and reached for the last piece of asparagus. "I should what?"
"Take Dom up on her offer."
Offer? Nathan frowned, alcohol-soaked brain trying to remember--his eyes widened. Oh. That offer. "She's half my age."
Grabbing his mug, Nathan attempted to copy Grizzly, downing a good third of the mug before his gag reflex caught up and he tried to breathe and swallowed wrong.
After pounding on Nate's back for a while, Grizz waved at the barmaid and settled back in his chair. "You are such an idiot."
"Whatever." Grizz raised an eyebrow of interest at the very tall, very blonde, very built barmaid. "Seriously. An idiot."
The barmaid raised her own eyebrow.
It was a conversation conducted in quirks of the lips, fingertips and eyebrows. Nathan tried to decipher it, and wondered if Grizz was really saying he was going to Bermuda with Auntie Em. Whoever the flonq Auntie Em was.
A new mug of beer appeared in front of both of them, and Theo groped her ass.
Nate waited for her to hit him. When she didn't, he knew his eyebrows went up. Theo ignored him and downed more of his beer. "If you don't want Dom, I'd suggest one of the local barmaids." He waggled his eyebrows.
Semaphore for Timmy's down the well again? Nate blinked, decided he was drunk, and took another sip of beer.
His head was buzzing happily, when he finally noticed that Grizz had wandered off. So had the barmaid. Nate decided that two and two equaled pi, and that he should find Domino. Yes.
A very determined man, Nathan made his way from the bar (after being stopped and forced to pay an exorbitant amount that if Nate were less drunk, would have made him cynical about Theo's barmaid) and back towards the motel the Six Pack were holed up in.
Once at the set of rooms they'd booked, he counted doors until he came to the one next to his.
The door opened just enough for George Washington Bridge to cast one look at him and point. "Two more doors. Idiot."
Nate moved two more doors down and knocked again.
Or, at least, he thought it was a knock. After banging his forehead on the door for the second time, Nate remembered his knuckles and raised them.
Domino ducked under his fist. "Nice to see you, too."
"Hi." Retrieving his hand, Nathan brought her along, and blinked when she didn't object to being breathed on by a very drunk, very large man who'd eaten asparagus and onion rings.
"This is comfy."
"Yes." Grinning happily, Nathan leaned. Sideways.
"Whoa!" Domino's arms around his waist only just kept them both from toppling. That, and the doorway. "Let's put you to bed, Mr. Six Pack."
"Three." Nate objected, happily groping her ass.
She swatted his hand. "You're drunk."
Stopping next to the bed, she turned, and shoved him. Nate toppled onto it without letting her go. "Ooof."
"Ass." She wriggled, trying to get away.
Nate tightened his grip. "You're--"
An elbow connected with his ribs.
"You deserved it."
"Did not," to Nate, this was the best offensive comment he could make.
Domino rolled her eyes and pulled away, finally succeeding in standing. "You're drunk. And I still have some scruples." She bent over and kissed him. "Well. Some."
Attempting to take advantage of her still being there, Nate tried to grope her, and found that she'd caught at least one hand (did he have five? When did he have five?). The two Dominos eyeing him snorted. "Go to sleep, you dirty old man."
She sounded like Redd talking to Slym. "'K." Obediently, he closed his eyes.
A snicker almost made him open his eyes. But the world was all swirly, and Domino's pillow smelled nice.
Almost asleep, he didn't even jump when a warm body climbed into the bed and curled up at his back, grumbling about huge oafs taking up so much damned space. Awake just enough, he dropped his arm behind him to cup her hip. She poked him, but settled closer so it wasn't uncomfortable.
Then he really did obey her command.