A Hard Day's Night (Drake)

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There wasn't much that could bring Reagan Daniels to a bar at 11:30 at night. Maybe it wasn't an uncommon practice for most people, but Reagan stayed in most nights when she wasn't working. She was the type who was usually in bed asleep by 10 o'clock. But not tonight. No, tonight was different.

She'd lost a patient a few hours ago. A nine-year-old boy named Jonathan. He collected baseball cards and he wanted to be a pilot when he grew up and play guitar like his dad. He'd been terrified to go into surgery, but an enflamed appendix needed to be removed. Reagan had assured him everything would be okay and she'd be there when he woke up.

Reagan sighed as she took a long sip of her second Corona. She'd downed the first one shortly after ordering it and was working steadily on the one in front of her. Losing a patient was never easy. Especially when the patient was a child. Days like these made Reagan question her every professional and medical decision. Why had she gotten into Pediatrics? Why had she become a surgeon? What mis-step had she made that had killed that little boy?

"'Scuse me, miss."

Reagan glanced up, startled by the voice beside her. A rugged-looking man in his thirties smiled down at her and tipped his baseball hat.

"Sorry t' bother you. Just seen you sittin' here alone and I figured I'd come on over and say hello."

Reagan did her best to smile and gave a little wave of her fingers.

"Hello," she said.

She took another pull of her beer and ran a hand through her hair.

"So, 'r you here by yourself, or are you waitin' on somebody?" the man asked.

Reagan was not a liar. Not usually. And she wasn't there with anybody. However, she also wasn't looking for anybody. She had an option to be honest and tell him that, but a little white lie made things so much easier. And she was in the mood for easy right now.

"I am," she said. "Waiting. For someone."

The words forced themselves out of her mouth like they were locked in her throat. Of course, a white lie was only useful if it sounded true when you said it. The man chuckled.

"Oh, boy. Am I that bad lookin' you gotta make up a boyfriend to get rid o' me?" he asked.

Reagan smiled helplessly. It figured she'd try for the easy way out and end up taking a more difficult road than she would have if she'd done things the hard way to begin with.

"No. No, you're... not bad looking at all," she said. "It's just, I've had a really rough day and I'd kind of like to be left alone."

The man raised an eyebrow.

"You come to a crowded bar to be alone? Now that don't sound right."

Reagan laughed.

"Well, not when you say it out loud," she admitted. "Look, I'm sorry, I'm sure you're a nice guy and everything, but honestly I just want to get a good buzz going before I talk to anybody. I'd be horrible company anyway."

It was the truth. Reagan was downright miserable, and it wouldn't be hard for her to drag someone else down with her. She'd seen it happen.

"Tell you what," the man said with a smile. "I'll make a deal with you."

Reagan raised an eyebrow.

"A deal?"

He nodded and motioned to her Corona.

"Looks like you're about done with that beer. You let me buy you another, and I'll walk myself over to the other side of the bar, play me a game o' pool or some'in', let you work on that buzz. Maybe when I finish my game you'll let me come on over and have a conversation with you."

Reagan couldn't help smiling. It did sound reasonable. It was the most well handled rejection and attempted pick-up she'd experienced. She had to give him credit for that. She thought about it for a moment, taking a sip of her beer as he did the same, watching her and waiting for her answer. She held out her hand.

"Alright, deal," she said.

He smiled and shook her hand.

"It's a deal, then," he declared. "Name's Cal, by the way."

"I'm Reagan," she said.

Cal tipped his hat to her again before waving the bartender over. On another night, Reagan may have sat down and talked with him for a while. He wasn't bad looking and seemed like a nice guy with good manners. But tonight just wasn't his lucky night.

Cal bought Reagan her next Corona and left her alone to drink it like he promised. She polished off her second beer and started working on the third, sipping this one slowly. She was looking to get a buzz, not fall on her ass.

[Drake Rodagh]

Drake was sitting at the bar, sipping at his third or maybe it was his fourth drink. He wasn't sure. He had stumbled upon a modern drinking establishment the first night he entered this city. He found it fascinating. With some free time on his hands, he ventured out again. He was currently drinking Lagavulin, a high end brand of what they called scotch. Drake had found he had a taste for it.

As he sat he watched the people. That was his favorite part. Observing the actions of the humans. His mind working, trying to sort out these people. Some of them were quite odd. The things they did, the freedom they had to do what they wished. It was all interesting to Drake.

Sipping at his drink he saw a very pretty blond woman sit down on one side of him. He kept quiet and just watched as she ordered herself a drink, a beer. She finished it quickly and order herself another. It wasn't long until a male approached her. Drake kept himself looking forward. He was sitting with his back against the bar so he could watch what was going on. So, he had a full view of what was taking place next to him without being obvious about it.

Drake may have been new to the modern world, but he wasn't stupid. He smirked slightly as the male was obviously trying to make some kind of connection with the female. The man didn't get anywhere, but the woman got a free beer out of the deal. That was a pretty good deal or so it seemed for the female. At least the man was not too persistent and left her alone as she wished. Drake could tell her mood when she had sat down was one that wasn't particularly inviting. The furrow in her brow, the pursing of her lips as she drank her beer.

After the man left though, Drake couldn't help but lean over toward her. Giving her a little nod that was almost like a bow of respect.

"You handled that well. To be rejected so elegantly, it would almost be an honor."

Drake's voice was low and he spoke slowly, deliberately. The corners of his mouth curved up into a small smile. Then he took another sip of his drink.

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Reagan sighed as she sipped the Corona the seemingly well-mannered man had bought her. She wondered if she should talk to him. He'd seemed nice enough, cute. But, no. She didn't have time for dating these days and tonight she wasn't even in the mood to try.

She turned her head, catching movement beside her out of the corner of her eye.

"You handled that well," said the man beside her. "To be rejected so elegantly, it would almost be an honor."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. The man had been sitting at the bar when she arrived. She'd noticed him, but he was quiet, seemed to be keeping to himself, like she was, so she'd just sat down and minded her own business. He'd done the same. Or so she'd thought. Apparently he'd been paying attention to her little exchange with Cal.

"Yeah, I'm sure the guy who just got shut down feels really honored," she said, nodding toward Cal and taking a sip of her beer.

She couldn't tell if this guy had just given her a pick-up line of his own, or he was being sarcastic. He had just seen her turn down a perfectly nice guy just because she wasn't in the mood for company. Was he ballsy enough to try his luck, or just making an observant comment about the situation? It was hard to say.

Reagan ran a hand through her hair and set her beer down on the bar, tempted to down it as quickly as she'd drained the others, but knowing she'd regret it if she did.

[Drake Rodagh]

[dropcap]D[/dropcap]rake let the smile spread wider across his face. The woman's tone and the way she held herself saying a lot. She was intriguing. He drank down the last of the scotch in his glass.

Letting his eyes take her in, more in depth this time, now that he was looking at her straight on and not glancing at her from the side. He liked the way she looked. Even in her dark mood. That was one of the things that had caught his attention in the first place. He took a breath and tried to explain further.

"Well if I may say. I saw you come in. You did not seem to be of a cheerful nature. Yet, you took the time to interact with the male and politely declined his invitation for companionship. In fact, I think he walked away thinking he may still have a chance, later in the evening."

Turning around Drake held up his glass and got the attention of the bartender. He ordered another scotch for himself and told the bartender that he would cover any further drinks the lady wanted. As the bartender filled his glass, Drake leaned over and spoke to the woman.

"My name is Drake by the way. And the offer to pay for your drinks is in no way an obligation for you to continue the conversation with me if you'd rather continue dwelling on your difficult day."

He gave her a smile, turned to face the crowd again and took a long sip of his drink.

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Reagan resisted the urge to glance over at Cal, not wanting him to think it was an invitation. However, she still did feel a little bad about turning him down. If she were in a different mood, she may not have turned him down outright.

"Well if I may say. I saw you come in," Drake said. "You did not seem to be of a cheerful nature. Yet, you took the time to interact with the male and politely decline his invitation for companionship."

Reagan looked at him with furrowed brows. She 'did not seem to be of a cheerful nature?' What was that supposed to mean? It was true she hadn't been in the best frame of mind, coming into the bar, but she didn't think she was necessarily uncheerful. At the same time, he was sort of giving her a compliment for turning Cal down with tact. She wasn't sure if he was trying to be funny or messing with her or what. And the way he talked, it was like he was making commentary on one of those animal documentaries. "View the female in her natural habitat as the male approaches." What was up with that?

"Well, uh... Thanks... I think."

The words came out clumsily as she tried to think of a way to respond as she was talking. The man flagged down the bartender and ordered another scotch. Reagan took a sip of her beer and nearly choked on it when she heard the guy say he'd pay for anything else Reagan drank that night. She managed to keep the beer in her mouth from shooting out through her nose and swallow as she turned, wide-eyed, to look at the man sitting beside her. Was he serious?

"My name is Drake by the way," he said. "And the offer to pay for your drinks is in no way an obligation for you to continue the conversation with me if you'd rather continue dwelling on your difficult day."

She blinked at him, honestly not knowing what to make of him. Had he scoped out Cal's attempt to pick her up and decided to come at it from a different angle to see if he'd have better luck? Was he just some wealthy eccentric? He smiled and turned his attention away from her and she frowned slightly. Wait a minute, what did he mean by "dwelling on her difficult day?" Was he mocking her? He didn't know what kind of day she'd had. Who was he to mock her for her mood?

"What was that, some kind of crafty ultimatum?" she asked. "If I don't talk to you it automatically means I'm brooding? I'm not, by the way," she clarified. "Brooding is sitting in my living room alone wearing sweatpants eating a carton of ice cream."

She took another sip of her beer, suddenly not feeling so bad about draining it. Where the hell was this buzz, already?