Baltimore, Sunday Night

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Banzai rarely patrolled Sunday nights, taking the night off to rest and prepare for the upcoming week, but since she'd bailed on patrolling on Friday, it seemed only fair to make up for it tonight instead. Crime around the club and various campuses would be lower, but there were still plenty of drug deals, muggings, and various other, more dangerous crimes for her to stop instead. And it wasn't like Banzai was going to miss spending extra time manhandling drunk idiots into cabs and breaking up fights in alleys over stupid bullshit the participants couldn't even remember four steps away from the club itself.

The Ukranian mafia had all but vanished from the city over the past few months; apparently losing the Butcher was enough to convince them that Baltimore wasn't worth the effort. In a way, Banzai almost missed them; they were good practice for when she'd be going up against the Seventeens in LA eventually. Patrolling around Stanford (if she got in, please God let her get in) probably wasn't going to be all that much effort, so she was already making plans to portal down to LA proper at least once a month to get in a proper patrol.

Spotting Jewels, one of the working girls that was part of Banzai's loose confederation of informants, Banzai swung down from the rooftop to land on light feet nearby. Always good to check in, see if Jewels had heard of anything going down, make sure that no one was bothering her, pass along money and supplies to stay in Jewels' good graces, all that good stuff.

It felt good to get out and patrol. For all her speeches about wanting to do good for the people around her and make the world a better place, Banzai had to admit that the real reason she ran around in rainbows with a bokken on her back and rope darts in her belt was a lot more selfish. What could she say?

She loved this.

Comments

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"I dunno," Kathy said, sipping her beer and trying to look superior. "Nobody else seems to have a problem. Everyone thinks I'm great!"

She wasn't doing a great job of selling it, but dammit she could try!

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"Stop lyin' to yourself, Kat," Dante said, taking another sip from his beer. "Or you're not getting the second shot when it gets here."

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"Says the guy who just helped himself to half my plate of nachos," Kathy said, but obediently dropped it. "Shot of what?"

So help her if you said alcohol...!

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"Silver Bullets?" Dante prompted. "I mean, usually it's all fancy gin and scotch, but I think out here they do like, tequila and scotch instead."

No, seriously. Supernatural liver.

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"I didn't know what a Silver Bullet was," Kathy said, shrugging. "Honestly, I thought it was the beer you ordered until just now I saw the labels."

She didn't drink as much as you did, Dante! No one did!

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Some people did! It, uh. Just wasn't healthy.

Wouldn't have been for Dante either if he didn't have a magically-regrowing liver, but if he was entirely honest, that didn't even factor into it.

"I gotta flag you over for a crash course in shots some day," Dante sighed, as the waiter came back out with the shots.

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"I guess so," Kathy said, her smile to the waiter as he handed her his shot very deliberate this time. Hey, why not see if Dante was right? "Which is your favorite?" she asked the guy, who had certainly not signed up for this. "Shot, I mean."

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"Um." The guy blanched immediately.

Well, that was a super-good start to this show. Dante spread his arm out over the back of his seat so he'd be comfortable for this one.

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This poor guy. This poor, poor guy.

"Oh, err, mine?" he asked, eyes darting between Kathy and Dante. "I like, uhh, lots of things. Shots. Different kind of shots."

"Oh sure," Kathy continued, licking a bit of salt off her lower lip. "But surely you have a preference?" The server just looked at her, trying to find his misplaced cool. "I mean, he--" she nodded towards Dante, "--goes for whatever's strong and will fuck you up the fastest. I tend towards things are a little slower, you know? The kind that taste so good you're on your third before you even realize it."

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"Basically I'm spice, she's sugar," Dante said. He was trying to repress a grin, but it wasn't working.

"... um, an... an Angel's Tit?"

It took the waiter five whole seconds to realize what he'd just said. "I'm just going to go," he said.

"Bring us back some Mountain Dew Me while you're at it, all right?" Dante said, smirking.

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Kathy was at least able to wait until he vanished into the kitchen before giggling. "Oh, that was fun!" she said. "He looked so...lost!"

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Dante held up a hand for a high-five, because he remained classy like that. "Nice work."

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Kathy high-fived him over the table because sometimes she really was a brat. Usually in his presence.

"I hope this doesn't impact when we get our food," she said. "Maybe I'll wait to order an Angel's Tit until after the burgers arrive."

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Dante laughed softly. "He'll either be so nervous he's super-fast," he said, "Or he'll try to make an impression and be super-fast."

He looked back towards the kitchen again. "Besides, he's kinda cute."

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"You should go for it," Kathy said with an encouraging smile. "I'll be your wingman."

Kathy, that wasn't even what a wingman--never mind.

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Dante laughed. "I don't need a wingman," he said. "Think I'm already halfway there if I want to close the deal."

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"Telling you, that sex smirk'll get him offering himself on the table if you use it right." She dragged the last nacho through the remains of the chili and reconsidered. "Or under the table, if that's how you wanna roll."

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"I'll go for it," Dante said, slamming back his shot. "Unless somebody wants to give me a better offer."

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Kathy gave him a speculative look; usually running around as Banzai got her blood going and having fun with Dante was an excellent way to calm it again. But tonight had been heavier on the patrolling and lighter on the action than usual and she wasn't feeling that usual tug of desire.

And if that changed while Dante was making a new friend, she could always call his roommate.

"I think I'm good tonight," she said with the satisfied air of someone who had had a very good past few days. "Let me watch the master at work. I can still flirt with him a little, though, right?"

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"Nah, now I've got dibs."

Sorry, Kathy.

Dante snagged his beer again, then paused for a second as the shot hit him pretty hard. Good.

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"Aww!" Kathy pouted. "I don't wanna really flirt with him, just for practice!"

Well, she wasn't going to stop smiling at him. Especially when he was bringing her food. That was just ridiculous.

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"Nope," Dante said. "You're gonna get his hopes up for something or another."

He took a sip. Mmm, spinny.

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Kathy took her shot, wincing a bit as the alcohol hit her tongue. Still had some of her baby, non-drinking tastebuds left apparently. And she could feel it burn all the way down to her belly.

"You're the worst," Kathy informed him, sticking her tongue out. "I never set limits on who you can flirt with."

Except, you know, her sister. But she was pretty sure Dante would avoid Sarah on his own.

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"Hey, you're the one who isn't planning to actually get laid tonight," Dante said, flipping her tongue the bird.

"You don't jump into the ring in somebody else's match, right?"

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"I would to help!" Kathy insisted. "But then I'd let them get the take down and the credit for the catch."

Look, she didn't do boxing much. Or wrestling. Or...any other kind of fights in rings.