Log: Garrison/Amanda

[x-dominion.livejournal.com]

Garrison and Amanda talk about their past doomed relationships. They are bitter, bitter people.



While Finngan's was normally the bar of choice for X-Force, Amanda had a couple of other places she liked to go to. Especially if Doug was already at Finnegan's - she'd work with him, but she wasn't up for social chit chat, especially after the emails they'd exchanged last. Tonight happened to be one of those nights, and so it was she was at a bar not hugely far from FBI headquarters, known for its range of beers on tap and the live music on Thursday nights. Amanda was every inch the young professional, sitting at the bar in her work clothes, watching the news on one of the TV screens and drinking a pint. Only her reading material, a biography of Aleister Crowley, muddied the picture somewhat.

"You lost or something?" It was a wall of suits; all the same off the rack blue, charcoal and black ones flowing past her, when one of the spoke. With a wave, Kane detached himself from the crowd and leaned against the bar next to her, his FBI ID card still hanging off his jacket by a clip. "Don't take it the wrong way, but I figured the last place you'd want to hang out is a cop bar."

Amanda looked up and grinned. "If it isn't the Mountie," she said, the use of the nickname indicating she was a) in a good mood and b) feeling friendly towards her interruption. Amanda tended to use actual names when she was pissed off at someone. "I needed somewhere quiet tonight and weirdly enough, cop bars aren't known for trouble. For the most part a girl can sit and have a beer in peace." She nodded to indicate the stool next to her. "Pull up a pew, if you like."

"You obviously don't know cops when they're drinking. Waitresses end up with asses like pin cushions and the only reason the bouncers put up with it is because we're all legally armed." Kane hooked one of the stools and pulled it over, waving for a beer as he did so.

"Well, it's better than turning up at the punk club in this," she replied with a snort, gesturing down at the skirt and blouse. "I had a meeting today with actual non-shady clients, so Wanda made me dress up." She sighed dramatically. "Good thing Angie's not here at the moment, or I might have wound up in heels and all. How's things with you? Hard day on the thin blue line?"

"I'm a Fed. It's more of a murky grey line. And it is appropriately murky." He accepted his drink from the bartender, taking a healthy swallow. "Surprisingly quiet too. Everything is, which makes me both worry and fear for the job that I don't get paid for. You? Wait, where is Marie-Ange these days? I left like five messages on her phone. She doesn't turn down free food that often."

"Angie... quit, a couple of months ago," Amanda replied, sounding less upset about it than would be expected. But she'd shared a room with the precognitive for long enough to know when there was Weird Future Stuff going on. "She's down in New Orleans, working for another company." She shrugged and sipped her beer. "It's better not to ask too many questions about what she's doing exactly, but she's fine. She'll be in touch when she needs us." That was definitely a "when" and not an "if". Another reason she was avoiding Doug - better if he didn't have any hope of Angie's return, as it would discourage him from going down there and getting his head blown off by the Assassin's Guild.

"Huh. That... I would not have expected, to be honest." Garrison said, considering the news. It didn't sound like the woman he knew, and while they certainly hadn't been soul-mates or anything, he kind of had a picture of her in his head and this didn't line up. "You guys ever considered a career in semi-legitimate law enforcement? I could get you brochures for the Academy."

Amanda laughed out loud. "You've never seen my record back in Blighty," she replied, shaking hr head. "Besides, I don't think my particular way of doing things would go down too well with even semi-legit law enforcement." She held up her book for him to see the title. "You lot are too pragmatic to believe in witches and the rest, yeah?"

"Not to get all X-Files on you, Sefton, but we're actually the lead agency in paranormal incidents. There's a couple of what we call 'ghost-hunters' rattling around the Bureau who specialize in weird shit. Their job is to go out when people scream ghost or alien that hints to a larger crime and debunk the bullshit and see if the ghost was actually multi-state scam." Kane turned on his stool, leaning against the bar. "I'm told the files contain a lot more 'can't confirm or disprove' results than the Bureau will publicly admit."

That caught her interest. "Seriously? Fuck, I'd love to get my hands on some of that stuff, just to see what's there." She gave him a hopeful look, big eyes and all. "Any chance of sneaking me in one day?"

"Federal crime. You get sent to prison for the rest of your natural life, and I think I get turned into compost somewhere off the Jersey turnpike."

She pouted at that. "Bugger," she said, with a mock sigh. "You lot keep all the best stuff to yourselves."

"Blame those pesky federal prosecutors." Garrison drained the glass - the first one always went down quick - and motioned for another. "However, if you're good, I might be able to get you some names of some of the guys who worked the department and since retired. Not as good as the records, but ex-cops love to talk about their cases like nothing else."

Amanda was on her second pint, close to finishing, and waved to the bartender to bring another two beers. "If you manage that, drinks are on me," she told him with a grin. "That sort of info would be worth a night of light flirting with retired FBI."

"Ninety percent of the stories will be a mixture of bullshit and truth, but you might be able to sift something useful out of it." Kane nodded, reaching for the new beer. "Just be careful. They have wandering hands."

"The way my love life's been going lately, I might welcome it," Amanda said wryly, then clapped a hand over her mouth. "Argh. Sorry, Gar. Open mouth, insert foot."

"What? Are you referring to my sudden Dear John treatment by my assumedly ex-girlfriend Adrienne, who went from texting me to ask whether I wanted her to wear the naughty schoolgirl outfit or the leather nurse one while waiting for me in my room to dropping me three hours later and instructing her security not to let me on the premises? Nah, don't worry about it. Obviously I've totally forgotten about What's-Her-Name Frost."

The witch winced in sympathy. "Mate, that's got to be one of the nastiest dumpings I've seen for a while. Not as bad as me and Manuel, but then again, you can't really beat using your boyfriend as a power source and ripping a psychic link out of your heads. So you haven't heard from her at all? She's not answering my emails either."

"Her secretary sent me a lovely email mentioning that if I continued to email her, a restraining order would be sought against me." Kane leaned over the bar and waved for the bartender. "Can I get a couple of shots of tequila here? Thanks."

"Adri's obviously mad as a box of badgers with this whole sudden disappearing act." Amanda sighed and shook her head. "Well, madder than we already knew she was. Since yeah, the least she could have done was tell you what the fuck was up in person." She nudged his shoulder with hers "I promise that if I'm ever in a position to dump you, I'll give you a list."

"I think I'm going to swear off dating. I mean, it's likely my fault that all the girls that I date are nuts. But still, you'd think there was at least some kind of baseline in place." Kane picked up his shot glass, tossing the lime back on to the bar and knocking it back. He motioned for another even before the glass was done being drained.

"Well, yeah, there is that." Amanda, never to be outdone in the drinking stakes, downed her shot with a grimace, putting the glass on the bar as another appeared - apparently the bartender had decided Garrison needed drinking company. Or that two people drinking tequila shots would earn him twice as many tips. "This is why I don't date people from the mansion." A pause and then the addition: "Any more, any way."

"That doesn't leave you a lot of options unless you're looking to do the awkward 'hiding your secret life' thing." He washed the taste of the tequila out of his mouth with a gulp of beer, swilling it back and forth.

"True." Amanda tossed back the second shot, made a face, and then reached for her beer. "P'raps I'll just go for meaningless sex instead."

"Amen. Uncomplicated, not insane. Doesn't involve lunatic mood swings." Kane hammered back the second shot, pushing away the salt that the bartender had optimistically left for them.

"Plus you don't have to worry about them going and dating someone else five minutes after you break up." Amanda made a rude noise. "Whoops, my bitterness is showing." She looked over at Garrison. "Don't tell?"

"Your secret is safe with me." Kane waved to the bartender. “So, another round?”

Comments

[x-jubilee.livejournal.com]

Nice log guys, I like the quiet moments, gives you an insight into the characters.