6882/So a Wanker Walks into a Bar. Ouch.

So a Wanker Walks into a Bar. Ouch.
Date of Scene:	13 March 2019
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	What starts as a comedy of deliberate errors, somehow ends up with Kate and John making yet another Bad Life Choice (tm).
Cast of Characters:	Hawkeye (Bishop), Constantine

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Hawkeye (Bishop) has posed:
Half an hour.

Kate had half an hour before John showed up. Knowing him, it could be less than half an hour, or anything up to say.. 45 minutes - just because he was a jerk like that. He made no bones about the fact he was a bit of a jerk (okay, he'd say ass, but this was Kate we're talking about here), but Kate was starting to suspect he enjoyed poking fun at her. What she couldn't figure out was why. It wasn't like it was getting him anywhere..

She'd given serious thought to using her father's card after all, but in the end she'd decided against it, pulling the last of this month's crumpled bills out of her jacket pocket and buying herself a pitcher, because god help her, she was probably going to need it.

At 29 minutes, Kate poured herself the second pint from that pitcher, having moved now, to face the door, and waited for John to arrive.

Constantine has posed:
Of course John's late. Even he can't talk Lucky out of taking a longer walk and he once talked three Lords of Hell to go to war over his soul... long story.

So, 15 minutes after Kate pours that pint, and 44 minutes after he said he'd be 30, John walks through the door at Josie's dying for a pint.

Yes, he was sobering up from his previous binge but now the hangover was just beginning and he needed the hair of the dog that bit him.

"Katie," he greets with a smile, eyeing the pint. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

The pint doesn't hold his attention for long as he takes a moment to size her up to see just what sort of trouble his texts had stirred up for him.

Hawkeye (Bishop) has posed:
Of course he's late. Though Kate believes it's on purpose.

"Riiight. You're really sorry to keep me waiting." She just shakes her head at him and waits for John to join her at the table. "What, did you stand out there and figure out exactly how long you could keep me waiting before I gave up and stormed off home?"

Even if she's trying to sound angry with him, she sounds too dryly amused to make a go of it. "Figured you'd have plunked your bum on my couch - or better still, spread eagled yourself on the bed - waiting for me to show up."

"You're a jerk, you know? And you owe me for this beer, just so you know."

Constantine has posed:
John slips into the booth across from Katie and pours himself a beer. Remaining silent until he's downed half the glass, no doubt giving Kate images of him walking out right after stffing her for the drink as well as her time.

"Jus' couldn't say no to Lucky, wanted to go another block," he explains fishing into his pocket for some money just to get that part of things out of the way. He puts some bills on the table, enough for the beer and likely another pitcher to follow because it's that sort of night.

"So in this fantasy of yours where I'm spread eagle on your bed, am I naked?" he asks her without missing a beat.

"And of course I'm a jerk, call it insurance, so we don't make any decisions we might regret."

Hawkeye (Bishop) has posed:
"You wish," Kate grins of John's suggestion he's naked in this fantasy (though now that he's mentioned it, her mind so wants to wander in that direction and has to be forcibly crawn back). "Just you, pretty much dressed like you are, being a jackass."

Her grin spreads, eyes twinkling. "Not quite a potty mouth, but yes, I just swore. My boss would be so proud of me."

The money is eyeballed and determined to be exactly what it looks like, enough to cover this pitcher, and another. Plus, if things get really hairy, she can take the money he's giving her for what she's already paid, and they can get a third.

She's hoping a third doesn't happen. The last time she got drunk, John happened. They were trying to avoid that. She thought.

"Toldja Lucky would make you take him further. You were supposed to tell him no, that it was a quickie and I'd take him out later." Of course, now she didn't have to. "How far did he make you take him?"

Constantine has posed:
Whether John is aware of the effect his suggestion has or not he smirks brightly. "Sure it's me that wishes?" he teases taking another grateful chug of his beer leaving a bare inch of the golden brew in the glass. "So, pretty much the norm then?" he asks when she clarifies.

John counts out the money and pockets the rest. He'd made that exorcism after his impromptu visit to the Watchtower, and had managed to banish the demon even if he had been tired down to the bones when he started and ready to pass out when he was done, but the job had paid at least.

"That you did, an' just an extra block, but he stopped for a lot of sniffing," he says with a shrug. "Didn't have the heart to tell him no."

Hawkeye (Bishop) has posed:
"Softie," Kate scoffs. "He knows it's not time for his long walk. I'm surprised he didn't make you take him to the park and play fetch." It's clear the way she talks about him, that Kate is more than a little fond of her doggo. "And I'm sure it's you who wishes. Probably just to see me fluster and be all embarrassed. I bet if I'd said I was coming home and to stay there and wait for me, you wouldn't have known what to do with me."

Teasing back.

Constantine has posed:
"Guilty as charged," John admits. "When it comes to dogs at least. An' I think the park crossed his mind but he took pity on me. poor soul that I am."

He smiles, "Was on a bit of a clock after all."

It's clear John is just a little bit fond of Lucky too.

That last though sets John to laughing. "Is that so," he says before leaning across the table. "C'mere," he says, and if she does he whispers some of the things that he might have done.

Settling back he completes that image, "But we're not doing that sort of thing anymore," a smirk plastered on his face.

Hawkeye (Bishop) has posed:
Of course she leans in. And of course she's blushing when she sits back again. "Is that so?" she asks of him and what he claims he'd have done, reaching for her beer to cover her fluster. "Shame we're not doing that sort of thing anymore," she agrees.

"You really do that second thing?" Because she thought that was just something people joked about. Knowing John, though, he was probably joking about it all, too.

His fondness for Lucky is noted. "You know, you could come and walk him from time to time if you like. I bet he'd like that. I'm out a lot on stakeouts, so sometimes we have to pigeonhole his walks into odd times. Just a thought."

Her beer is lifted to her lips and, while she's no John, she does have a healthy swallow or three. "You know, if it weren't you, I'd actually think you were pulling my leg about all of this." Other than knowing the contents of her fridge. And that her apartment looked like a bow shop had exploded in it. Only, you know, neatly.

Constantine has posed:
John can see his work is complete and simply sits back to enjoy the view as Kate blushes behind her beer.

"A shame," he agrees, before the question gets him laughing. "Everyday and twice on Sundays," he answers with a wink leaving it vague if he's joking or not.

"Let me think on it," John says about the offer to walk Lucky. Though he does seem to be considering it rather than simply blowing off the idea. "Would have to add dog walker to my cards after all. Think it should go before or after Master of the Dark Arts?"

"Yeah? Could be I am just a really good guesser."

Hawkeye (Bishop) has posed:
"Before," Kate deadpans. "Have you seen the size of his poop? Definitely before."

Master of the Dark Arts, indeed.

"Every day and twice on Sundays, huh? Wow. I'm really might have to reconsider that no fooling around thing. If only for the three minutes it takes to watch you do that."

She laughs, "You were in my place. Not sure how you got in there, but whatever. I should be worried, but I doubt you have any amazing computer hacking skills, so not expecting cameras to be set up. And I do know how to look for those."

If he'd done anything arcane, well, she couldn't fix that anyway, and he probably could have done that without visiting her apartment. She did have his shirt after all,a nd they had swapped spit. One of those things probably counted for arcane spying on someone. At least the movies had taught her that was so.

"You didn't touch my bows, did you? Or the arrows. Or any of my quivers.. Well, okay, anything. You didn't touch my archery stuff?"

Constantine has posed:
"Fair 'nuff," John says with an emphatic nod of agreement. He had seen Lucky's poop... right before he glamoured it into invisibility for a few minutes. Enough time for him to walk on by without blame. Shame about that one bloke's shoes though. "Before it is."

"Now which part are we talking about again? Tryin' to figure if three minutes is an insult or a copliment," he remarks of Kate's comment, leaving the no fooling around rule alone for the moment.

"How'd I get in, you miss the Master of the Dark Arts part of my card?" he asks with a grin. "An' no cameras, not that sort of pervert," he assures her with a wink. "'sides not much more to see."

He takes a swallow of his beer then and shakes his head. "Left them be. Your bows, your quiverrs, all of it. Don't fret. Though by Christ you've got a lot of it."

Hawkeye (Bishop) has posed:
"Which /part/? The whole shebang, John. All of it." She laughs and rolls her eyes at him, drinking more of her beer, decidedly relaxing. "And what does Dark Arts have to do with picking locks? You're lucky my neighbours didn't call the cops."

When he says there's not much to see, he earns a scowl. "You so better be talking about my bedroom and not me. Wait. I mean my apartment." Smooth move, Katie girl. Smooth move there.

She's still grumbly scowling when she retorts, "There is not a lot. That's barely a basic kit going on there." Which is really a lie, unless you're in her class of archer - in which case, yes, it might be a bsic kit. Though it was probably a good thing he didn't know about the other bits and pieces she had stashed places. Archery wasn't the whole of her arsenal; just the preferred.

Constantine has posed:
"That's horable slander," John counters about the timing with a shake of his head and a smile on his lips. "Low blow."

"An' well dark arts makes picking locks easier," he says about how the one related to the other. "Barely counts as picking." It really was that easy he'd basically touched the lock and it'd sprung open. "Remind me to ward your door sometime, that'll keep that from happenin'. Unless you're looking for sorcerous ne're-do-wells to let themselves in," he gives her a slow smug grin at that, leaning back in his half of the booth.

"Meant you, as in, not much left I haven't seen," he says, before he adds a lie to rile her up. "'spose that's true of your bedroom too now." He gives her a wink.

"Right, and the Library of Alexandria just had a few books," he says. "If you weren't you I'd have figured you knocked over an archery store."

Hawkeye (Bishop) has posed:
"Of course it's a low blow. That's where Little John lives. Duh." As if that weren't wholly obvious. "And what do you mean ward my door? You know, the more I know you, the more I'm not sure if I shouldn't be terribly worried, or really glad."

There's a laugh.

"You're probably the only sorcerous ne'er do well I know. The rest of my problems are a blind man, my boss, and a whackload of ninja."

"Nobody robs archery stores," Kate ponts out. "At least they'd never walk away with that much stuff. We're a pretty specific crowd. Most of that stuff is fairly one of a kind. If you knew what you were looking at, you'd know it was mine."

Constantine has posed:
John rolls his eyes, taking a long pull from his glass and filling it up again shortly afterwards. "Terribly literal there," he says of her remarks, his voice carrying a laugh. "And that's the conundrum isn't it? To be happy or worried to know me, most pick the latter."

There's brows raising at the mention of ninja. "Well I take it the blind man is the bloke you'd been seeing, the one from the papers, and 'know about your boss, but the ninja? What's the story there?"

John considers. "May be, or at least not for the gear, but I am sure someone's robbed one sometime for the cash, someone always does," he says nodding. "Well I'd say you're throwing your money around, but I drink most of mine, so who am I to judge? Like it though? The archery?"

Hawkeye (Bishop) has posed:
"Throwing my money around?" Kate protests the thought. "Do you even know how good I am with a bow? Would you think it a waste to - okay, I have no clue how you learn magic, but I imagine books or something are involved. Would it be a waste to read them, or whatever it is you do to get magicky? They're.."

Kate sighs. It's nearly impossible to explain to someone who doesn't get it.

More beer is sipped. "I'll let you know if I decide you're more trouble than you're worth, but I have to say you're really riding that line. Breaking into my place. As for the ninja, it's kinda a weird story, but Matt - the blind guy I was sorta dating - he had a run in with them. Them being a bit miffed at me is kind of collateral damage."

She shrugs.

Constantine has posed:
John chuckles. "Guessing that's a yes on likin' it then.," he says at Kate's protestations. "An I get it. Yeah, do spend more than a couple bob on some of my kit. But I gather you like shooting more than I like doin' magic."

At this point he did what he did to survive rather than any kind of choice. Magic was like that.

"And cheers then," he says of being let know if he's more trouble than he's worth. "'spect it'll happen sometimes, usually does, but the heads up will be a nice change of pace, most just move," he says with a wry smirk that puts the truth of his words into question.

Though a touch more seriously he adds, "An' sorry for breaking into your place. Thought it'd be funny."

"What'd they want with the blind guy? After his money?"

Hawkeye (Bishop) has posed:
"Well, you should be sorry. My neighbours already think I'm horrible. I'm surprised there isn't a petition to oust me without a shabbily dressed ne'er do well looking dude breaking in. You really are incorrigable." Mind you, Kate had a lot of experience with that set - she'd been trained by Clint Barton, after all. The man was a walking circus show. Or had been.

"Pretty sure I like you," Kate complains, because, after all, she didn't really want to like him. Not one bit. "And believe it or not, what they wanted was his girlfriend. It's a really bizarre story. She's kinda the person I almost told you about the other night."

Constantine has posed:
John offers to fill Kate's glass as a peace offering. "I promise not to hang around an' make you look bad for the neighbours. Or I could talk to them some, I'm told I've got gift for making people like me," well until they really got to know him.

Though when Kate volunteers that she likes him he nods, "Case in point."

"His girlfriend, the dead one?" he says unfazed by that news, in his world that was semi normal. "Can see why that might put you off dating though."

Hawkeye (Bishop) has posed:
"Well, more like not dead anymore one," Kate says ambiguously. It fits the public story, at least. "And we had an understanding when we were dating. I just had a moment. You know, the kind where you realize that everyone else seems to do the whole meet someone thing just fine and you can't? It really stung when my pretend boyfriend dropped me because his dead girlfriend wasn't."

Which might seem odd to John that she's upset about that. Then again, he's not got the whole story.

The refill of beer is accepted as a peace offering.

"As for my neighbours, it's probably better if you don't try to smooth things over." Kate had no clue what he'd do and feared magic might be involved.]

Constantine has posed:
John gives Katie a nod. "Yeah, read she's back, likely a story there..." he says letting Katie tell it or not. Though he does flinch when he hears about the dumping. "Yeah, that's bloody rough, luv. Even if it's just pretend."

"What was the deal with the pretend anyhow? He's got a girlfriend which means he's straight or at least plays both sides, so doesn't need a beard, and I know you don't, so can't figure that one," he asks as he carefully fills her glass.

"An' you sure, got the gift of the gab as the Irish say, can smooth things over, right as rain," he says, and would have laughed if he knew she thought he'd use magic. "Though if they're not the sort to like me about, best I not be your dog walker then, eh?" he ventures.

Hawkeye (Bishop) has posed:
"The story," Kate drawls easily enough. "He'd just come into a lot of money, and I needed my father off my back. It was a mutually beneficial agreement." Until it wasn't. "Not sure what was up with her," Kate lies - because she knows full well what was up, and what was still up, even if she wasn't sure how it had happened, or if she should believe it.

Then again, Elektra Natchios was some flavour of alive and well, and undeniably so, so whether or not Kate blieved in the ability to ressurect folks - much like her belief or disbelief in magic - really didn't matter.

"I have the gift of the gab, huh? Can't say I've heard it put that way before." Kate shrugs over more beer. "I'm a chameleon."

Constantine has posed:
John nods, "Ah gotcha, well, if you need your father off your back about dating, you could always introduce him to me, might bloody well send you to a nunnery after that," he says with a grin.

"An' fair enough," he says. Not wanting to pry into the affairs of the potentially undead.

"An' yeah I do," he says of his 'gift'. "An' is that so? Always thought your eyes were a little bulgy," he teases her knowing full well what she'd meant.

Hawkeye (Bishop) has posed:
"Uh..." Kate sputters. "The point is to get him off my back, not have him send me to a nunnery. He wants grandchildren. Grandchildren with the right pedigree. You are not a solution to this problem. Trust me."

There's a snicker as she realizes he'd been talking of himself with regards to the wee bit'o Irish and the gift of the gab. Laughing at the eyes thing. "Less that than I fit in where I need to. Think you were right, though, about maybe trying to create a space that's me and not just shoehorning into wherever I am. Which," she says with a sigh, over her beer, another large swallow taken, "Means I have to stop defining myself in reference others. Really sucks. I am the better Hawkeye. Wonder if I can just get away with calling myself Hawkeye and let others sort the which one out."

There's a shrug.

Constantine has posed:
"I'll have you know I've got a wonderful pedigree. Got a line of right bastards going all the way back to the time of King Arthur," John assures her with a smile. It was true though, the line of the Laughing Magicians, not that John wanted to think about all that bloodline, destiny bollox. Leave that to Game of Thrones.

He laughs too, before becoming a touch more serious as he says, "Being a chameleon is a good way to survive but it's a shite way to live, did a bit of that myself once, tryin' to be what other people wanted, never took. Not sure how it is with you tight's sort, but I say if you're as good as you say you are with a bow, you should call yourself Hawkeye, and the better one too, though that last only to cheese off the other Hawkeye, don't let it be all you are."

Hawkeye (Bishop) has posed:
"I think you're not in a great place to tell me what's a shite way to live," Kate says with a wry grin. Shite, as it happens, seems to pass the not-quite swearing test. That, or she's had enough beer it's not mattering quite so much. Either-Or.

"Clint's a good sort. And he's never treated me like I wasn't good. He just didn't realize I was alive other than with a bow in my hand." John gets one of those 'what can you do' looks. "JJ my boss is the one told me to stop moping and get over myself. Turns out she didn't really mean it. I mean, she did, but, whatever."

Her head tilts to one side and she considers John thoughtfully, "It is a shame, though. You, I mean. Not the long illustrious line bit. The bit about us playing with fire."

Constantine has posed:
For a moment John looks like he's contemplating a protest. "Fair," he decides ultimately with a nod. "And you just swore, miss PI Without Profanity?" The booze he was drinking now, plus the booze he'd been drinking and the pills he took with it put him in the mood to press on. "How's that work then, you and your boss, does the profanity and it's lack cancel each other out or does it just turn into luke warm profanity like turning on the hot and cold tap at the same time?"

"Heh. Isn't that what you ladies want though? Someone who sees you for what you can do not just what's between your legs and fills out your tights? At least in a collague." There is a bit of a laugh though. "Wait, so you went out to the bar on her advice and she didn't even mean it? That's too rich, you tell her what happend?"

Though despite his teasing of a second past, John's brows quirk about Kate's comment. "It is a shame innit?" he says. "Though I guess it comes down to how combustible we're feeling eh? And if this is the sort of fire you smother or let itself burn out."

Hawkeye (Bishop) has posed:
"I did not swear," Kate protests, then giggles. "Did I? I kind of thought it didn't count if it was in another language. Not sure they counter one another. JJ would say good for me."

Another soft giggle that's washed down with a swig of beer. "We want to be seen for who we are, but that doesn't mean we don't want to sleep with you," Kate points out. "He thought I was his little sister. There was no way we were going to end up in bed." Which has her sigh. "I didn't really tell JJ what happened. Just that I'd slept with someone and wasn't sure what to make of it. She asked me what I want. I don't know what I want."

John is given a direct, if plaintive, look.

"What do you want?"

Constantine has posed:
"Not really sure, there," John says, "Have to consult the rule book when I get home. For now we'll say no swear."

The bit about Clint seeing Kate as his little sister gets John to smirk, "Dunno, that sort of thing's like the most popular kink on the internet these days, never know until you ask," he teases her before adding, "Or so I hear."

The rest is taken in as clinically as John could muster in his current state: "Right now? You. But I gather you're talking longer term than just tonight."

He takes a sip of his beer after that, considering. "If so, still very much in the no dating camp, but willing to give friends with benefits another go."

Though he adds: "Though no magic this time. /That/ is playing with fire."

Hawkeye (Bishop) has posed:
"EW?" Kate really isn't sure the little sister kink is her ball of wax. "Besides, he's got a long term girlfriend. Moved in with her and everything. And he's a confirmed bachelor, so that should tell you everything you need to know." Kate gives a shake of her had, and laughs softly. "He actually has been married twice to bad results. Which is why he swore off anything but the whole one night stands. I never thought he'd do the whole dating thing, let alone the shacking up, so she must be something. That or he's not had a chance to think about what he's done."

Which, knowing Wlint, was equally likely.

"Friends with benefits, huh?" Kate ponders that. "Still think it's playing with fire. Even without the magic. Don't you guys say magic just intensifies what's already there? You sure you want to go there?"

Constantine has posed:
"Hey it's a thing," John says of the whole kink business. Truth be told it wasn't his either. "And ouch, yeah I'd say he's got it bad, or it's bad marriage number three. Or some combo of the two."

John nods upwards. "Yeah," he says before considering if he really did want to go there. "Bloody hard question to be answering when I'm three sheets to the wind," he admits. Well he was more like one and a half. Still the buzz didn't make this easier.

"Honest answer, yes, for the moment,, but I don't want to hurt you or drag you too deep into my mess you can't get out with your life. Anything more concrete needs to wait until I'm sober."

Hawkeye (Bishop) has posed:
"I'm not going to be the one to suggest it to him." Actually, the thought of pointing it out to him did occur, but did she really want to be the one to spook him? Probably not.

Kate laughs at John's drunken honesty, and truth be told, she's feeling no pain at this point either, though perhaps a little more pain than John is.

"These are really not the conversations to have while drunk. I seem to recall it led to bad things last time." Well, really, really good things that were likely really, really bad all things considered. "Darnit, John. Why do you have to kiss so well?"

Constantine has posed:
"Probably for the best, luv," John agrees with a smile.

John can't help but laugh too, helped no doubt by his current state.

"Agreed," he says reaching his hand across the table. "Sensible people would walk away right now and have this talk when they're sober," he agrees before he laughs as much for the darnit as for the compliments on his kissing. "Just my inheritance from that long line of bastards," he says. "So, that mean you're game or are we doin' the sensible thing here?"

He knew what answer he was hoping for but he wasn't sure it was the right one. Though at this point he was getting close to not caring.

Hawkeye (Bishop) has posed:
There's a giggle from Kate - really, it's a bad sign, given what tumbles out of her mouth next, "We'll be sober in the morning."

Her hand meeting his midway across the table. All things considered, she had no clue what the heck it was she was doing anymore, and like John, she really wasn't sure she cared.

Constantine has posed:
"That we will," John says taking Kate's hand in his.

And he hoped they wouldn't regret it.

For now though he asks that age old question: "So, your place or mine?" suddenly glad he'd already paid their tab.

Hawkeye (Bishop) has posed:
"Mmm, don't care."

She was too busy pushing back the small voice of reason in the back of her head that was saying she was going to regret this in the morning.

"My place is closer if you don't" She twitches the fingers of her other hand. "But my bed is less noisy."

It was, she thought, a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation.

Constantine has posed:
John grins. "Can't say I care either, luv,"

As to that age old question. His place was faster, he could summon the door at any time on the other hand: "Left a bottle of whiskey and my shirt at your place. So I think that's our winner," he says as he gets to his feet.

Hawkeye (Bishop) has posed:
"You did what?!" Kate's protest is a laughing rise of voice. "John! What were you thinking? Why am I even asking, of course this is what you were thinking. I should be very angry with you. Very angry."

She'd waggle a finger at him, but her hand is being held, and movign too fast was beginning to make the room a little spinny, and otherwise ill advised.

"Full bottle?" Because, of course, Kate didn't have much in the way of alcohol at home. Just those few bottles of beer in the fridge. And, as it happens, John's whiskey waiting for them on her bed.

Constantine has posed:
Offering a shrug and a guilty schoolboy grin. "Seemed like a good idea at the time?" he offers before he cocks his head and says. "Actually it still does."

He gives a nod for the question about the bottle. "Of course," he says. "Good stuff too."

He gives a glance towards the door. "Shall we get a cab and go give it a drink?"

Hawkeye (Bishop) has posed:
"Probably shouldn't," Kate says with a grin, downing the remainder of her beer and putting the mug down rather heavily. "But it looks like we're going to anyway."

Grinning at that.

Constantine has posed:
Kate downing his beer reminds him of his and he reaches back to the table down the rest of it in one swallow.

"Looks like," he says, leaning over to kiss her pushing her back against the table for a moment before he pulls away grinning. "C'mon," he says leading the way towards the door.