Drunken Sailor

[Reeves]

He didn't show it, but her reaction just made him feel worse. At least when he'd been the one to make a mistake, he instantly conceded when it was pointed out to him. And in that particular circumstance, she'd softened a little despite having every right to continue verbally abusing him. It was disappointing to him that when the tables were turned, she felt entitled to behave the way she did, disregarding the more significant part of what he'd chosen to say. So when they arrived, bright neon lights washed over a dull face that seemed entirely uninterested with everything around him.

When they were inside, some people seemed to recognize him, while most didn't even know who he was. The few that did gave him nods, and for the sake of being polite, he offered a brief one in return. Without enthusiasm and purely out of necessity, his eyes scanned for free seats. And when he spotted a booth that just saw its patrons getting up to leave, he gestured for Belle to follow him there. It was clear he preferred to get seated first before seeing to drinks or anything else. But the more talkative version of himself that seemed to ring her bell hadn't followed them through the door, and at this point that much was clear.

When they sat, a woman came over to tend to their table and see what they wanted. "Welcome back, Commander. What'll it be?" Since he was the man at the table, of course the waitress defaulted to him. "A bottle of the good stuff, Darcy, thank you." His response, cordial as always, made the waitress smile. She offered Belle a brief glance, silently conveying approval to her for the fact that she wasn't being bought cheap drinks, assuming she was his date. With that second of lingering done with, she walked away from their table and approached the oasis of booze at the center of this place, going through the motions of getting what was asked for.

Morreti didn't seem to have much to say.