[ Forward of her. He can respect that. She's not really his type--he tends to like pretty, in a way she seems like she's trying not to be--but hell, a drink's a drink.
Whether he fights or not tonight doesn't really matter, anyway. Sam cuts through the crowd easily, tall as he is, waving her over to a pair of stools at the bar, where it's marginally quieter.
no subject
[ Forward of her. He can respect that. She's not really his type--he tends to like pretty, in a way she seems like she's trying not to be--but hell, a drink's a drink.
Whether he fights or not tonight doesn't really matter, anyway. Sam cuts through the crowd easily, tall as he is, waving her over to a pair of stools at the bar, where it's marginally quieter.
Less loud, at least. ]
So when'd you get to New Amsterdam?