Who: Brian and Ash
Where: Babylon
When: Early evening

All it had taken was a quick phone call, a suggestion of place, and a counter-suggestion of time, and Brian was on his way to Babylon. On foot, seeing as Marlowe still had his car, but that was just fine. He had his cane, he had his cat to kick at now and then if he was feeling annoyed with him-- not that he ever hit; Torziel seemed to think it a fun game to dodge the randomly-timed feet aimed at his paws, and was dancing around them with a very entertained expression-- and Babylon would probably obligingly show up right as he was getting to be in too much pain to continue on. It had an annoying habit of doing that. Too bad it didn't show up when he wanted it to show up. Say, immediately.

The fact that Ash knew about and agreed upon doing their drinking at Babylon said interesting things about Ash, honestly, but all Brian figured it meant was he didn't have to be quite so careful about what he said or did. Maybe. The fact that this might well be the last night Babylon would be Olivia-free for a while meant Brian had really kinda wanted to go there, so he was willing to bring up a place the other party might never have heard of. Hell, he was willing to bring the man there, if he had to.

Apparently he didn't have to.

So there it was, right when his knee was starting to protest all the moving about even more than is usually did-- and right when one of the spirits who'd been wandering around on the other side of the street finally seemed to notice he was very studiously not being looked at. Brian headed inside, figuring if Ash wasn't already there, he could find him at the bar easily enough and wanting out from under the eye of that curious ghost. And damn did he need a few drinks....

Ash had never really been on time for anything in his extended life. It just wasn't the way he did things. People could learn that times were tentative with him, or they would just have to be pissed off, he didn't really care one way or the other. So he was a bit later than they'd said, getting to Babylon. He didn't figure that Brian would care much, most guys were fairly lenient about that kind of thing, in his experience. If they weren't, usually they were too much of a pain in the ass to hang out with anyway.

In any case, he arrived, finding it interesting in his own way that Brian knew about Babylon. He was getting to have his suspicions about almost everyone he met now anyway, so it wasn't an incredible shock, but yeah. A touch unexpected. Not that he minded. He was feeling in a bit better frame of mind after his talk with The Mourning Star. Not that everything was peachy, but better. He found Brian at the bar, and walked up behind him, clapping a hand to his shoulder. "Hey there," he greeted, helping himself to the seat next to.

Brian had, by then, already downed his usual starter-- the black and tan-- and moved on to some funny vodka mix. It was pretty tasty, actually, even though he was having trouble figuring out what the hell was in it besides vodka. He jumped a little at the sudden hand out of nowhere, but since it was accompanied by familiar tattoos, piercings, sideburns, and voice, he relaxed and offered Ash a lop-sided grin. "Hey, man. Nice of you to show." Not that he minded the lateness, he just liked to tease.

On the floor at his feet, Torziel glowered up at Ash. "I still think there's something weird about him," the demon-cat grumbled, as he had every time Ash's name came up since the trip to his garage. Brian bumped him with a foot-- not quite a kick, but definitely a suggestion to shut the hell up.

"Y'know, had to fit you into my busy social schedule," Ash countered with an easy grin. He didn't mind taking some shit for it. He motioned to the bartender and ordered a drink, just three fingers of straight scotch. He was feeling in the mood for some good scotch in lieu of beer tonight. That done, he settled a bit more, propping his arms up on the bartop and looking over at Brian. He'd noted the presence of the cat again, but didn't outwardly question it. There was something to this guy, and he had a feeling the cat was part of it. "So what's been goin' on, man? I never need an excuse to drink, but you sounded like you had one."

"You don't want the list," Brian said dryly. "Believe me, there's more than one." Brian had yet to try actually counting them. He was afraid he'd wind up depressed. "Get me one of those, too, please," he added to the bartender, and tossed a, "Thanks," onto the end when the surly-looking guy nodded agreement and got out a second glass. Brian made sure the last of his vodka-whatever was done before the scotch was set in front of him. Variety was the spice of life, right?

Ash eyed the glass, then glanced back up to Brian's face. He wasn't sure what had been in that last drink, but a man had to have a lot on his mind to risk mixing colors and flavors like that. But hey, to each their own. He sipped from his glass and nodded in sage sympathy. "I hear you," he said as a general sort of sentiment. There was of course the unspoken invitation to actually start talking about shit, as that was the whole point of having scotches at the bar. Babylon wasn't terribly busy, there was much tail to watch, and they weren't playing pool yet, after all. "So you come here a lot?" he asked, arching an eyebrow a bit.

Honestly, Brian wasn't thinking too much about the mix of flavors, at this point. He actually made a face when he downed his first sip of the scotch. "Hoo. Bad idea, that one." But he took another sip, anyway. Gotta wash it down somehow. "It's not my usual place, but one of those reasons to get drunk works here, and she'll object to my showing up while she's working. So... she's back from her little vacation this morning, back on the job tomorrow, and this is my last chance to come here for a while until she forgives me and can see my face without wanting to claw my eyes out." Okay, he was being a bit melodramatic-- a bit; he could imagine Olivia going for the eyes-- but he was allowed.

That actually got a laugh out of Ash. He knew it had been women trouble of some brand, it almost always was. That was why he was there too, after all. Or at least one reason. "Well then here's to avoiding painful methods of blinding," he said, leaning over to clink his glass against Brian's lightly. He took a bigger swallow. That was a good burn. "The one I had my eye on has pretty well skipped town completely, so. Mine's gone, your's is comin' back. But it all sucks the same." Well maybe not the same, but at least similarly. Not that it really mattered in the scheme. He started patting down pockets for his cigarettes.

"Oh. Oh, well, she's not that kind of problem, really...." Brian finished his off in two more gulps, shook his head vigorously, and explained, "Would you believe she's an employee? Works at the diner, too. I kind of... god, it's a long story. And a weird one. But far's I can tell, she's pretty pissed at me-- asked not to be on my shift anymore." And he felt bad about it. He really did. He felt worse that it had been her dad his had killed than about not telling her for so long-- he really, seriously couldn't believe they were related. It was just too weird. "So that's problem number one. --Another of those vodka things?" he suggested to the tender. "Went down better."

Oblivious of the real nature of the problem, Ash shook his head as he lit a cigarette. "Man, women? They do that. They'll get pissed, cold-shoulder you whether you're their man or not, and you just gotta wait it out. She'll come around." He gave Brian another companionable clap on the shoulder and tossed back the remainder of his drink with only a slight wince. Then motioned for another. Time to get nice and snookered, and then play some pool. Or darts, even though that was usually asking for trouble with too much drinking.

"That's what I'm hopin'," Brian sighed, watching the tender mix his second of the vodka-things and wishing it were done already. This alcohol thing really was going to get out of control if he didn't watch it. Fuck. "So how 'bout you? What's goin' on in your life? Aside from your girl leaving-- sorry to hear 'bout it, too, but I think that's happening a lot... people leaving, figuring to get out before the next big disaster."

Ash swished his ice around in his empty glass and chuckled faintly. "Oh, y'know, just the usual. Daily mix of grease and war." Okay, so it was enigmatic, but they hadn't felt each other out completely yet, and he wasn't about to step up and volunteer first, much as he liked the guy. I had a nice long chat with the closest thing to a deity this fucked up world has, was not particularly sane drinking conversation for most people. "Just working," he said with a little smirk. In more than once sense. He had the still-healing wounds to prove it under his shirt.

"Hey, man, if your work involves war, I'm glad I'm not you," Brian chuckled faintly. "If my forks and knives tried to rebel, I'd probably run the other way." Or, well, probably not, actually-- he'd probably call up some kind of shield and then kill all their forward momentum, but like Ash, he figured that probably wouldn't be the best thing to say to someone he only knew a little bit-- but hell, he'd still be pretty damn freaked out. "Thank you," he added to the tender, picking up his drink the breath it was set down. The tender replaced Ash's scotch, then stumped off-- on a cast, of all things-- to serve somebody else. "I swear, everybody's banged up, these days," Brian grumbled over the top of his glass.

The angel chuckled again and tested out the new scotch. Not bad, it was going down a bit smoother now. "We kinda had a good run of shit to bang us up," he said and took another sip. "Got some marks myself." He glanced sideways at Brian, wondering even more now. The guy's karma read pretty well, so Ash was fairly sure whatever he was, it was of an okay bent. Okay enough, anyway. "So what else has been goin' on? Anything you wanna spill?" he asked, tapping the ashes on his cigarette and taking another drag.

Eying Ash with a kind of wary skepticism, Brian asked, "You sure you're not gonna get sick of hearing me complain?" Really, as much as Brian might like to, he knew perfectly well that most people didn't really want to hear about shit going on in other people's lives-- least of all other men. He didn't want to wind up alienating somebody just because he had a bad day and bored him to death. Though maybe Ash wouldn't mind too much, because if he got on a roll, he'd probably wind up letting him know he was a willworker, since half his problems seemed to be stemming from that these days.

Maybe he'd ask about that first, actually, if Ash wound up, against all odds, wanting to hear about it. That'd be an interesting preface to a long discussion of woes. Might as well start off with a bang, right?

Ash gave him a Look. "Dude, you wanted to come out and drink. A man either drinks to completely forget everything, or to talk, and I don't see you out looking for a dancefloor and a girl with a tight ass, so I'm guessing it's door number two. And our most pleasant bartender doesn't seem up to listenin'," he said, nodding toward the sour-faced guy behind the bar. He smirked faintly at the other man. "If I get sick of it, I'll just tell you to shut it, but for now, I'm willing to lend an ear, as they say." He sipped some more on his scotch and looked attentive.

Holding up his hands peaceably to fend off the mini-lecture, Brian grinned a little lop-sidedly. "Well, there are a few of us who drink to have fun with friends, but yeah, door number two works. Let me ask you this, though... feel free to tell me to go to hell, if you don't wanna answer, but what you say helps me know what I can say. How come you know about this place?" He waved a hand in the general "Babylon" vicinity. "You know, and I know, it means there's something different about you-- and me-- but not knowing what that is changes what I can say." Like, knowing he wasn't a hunter of any kind, that was his biggest concern. Though given he and Manhattan never drank here, maybe hunters weren't usually supernatural themselves....

Well there was That Question. Ash took a breath and downed his mostly-full glass in one swallow. Nice. He'd read the posted rules to this place, about neutrality and no fighting, but that didn't really help one in feeling much safer. If he was a hunter -- which seemed unlikely, given the limp and everything, but who knew, right? -- or some sort of half-bred demon or something ... "I'm an angel," he came out with, with one of those little 'yup, that's it' smiles in place. He stubbed out his cigarette and folded his hands on the bar, looking over to take in Brian's reaction.

Brian's automatic reaction, as it happened, was to break into a delighted-- and relieved-- grin. He knew angels. His best friend happened to be one. Angels, he could deal with. "No shit, really?" Much, much better than it could have been.

Except the fucking cat let out a sudden hiss and-- thankfully rather than launching himself at Ash-- bolted across the room and disappeared under a table. " ... shit," Brian muttered with a wince. "Forgot about that." A little louder, he added, "Just, ignore the cat, okay? And since you shared, I'm a willworker. Dunno if you've heard of those. A lot of people haven't."

He'd been about to say 'yes, really', when the cat had it's little fit, and Ash turned his head to see it's tail end disappear under a table. Interesting. He returned his attention to Brian, not really about to ignore the cat. Because that had been a reaction worth noting. "Yeah, I've known a few of you guys," he said with a nod and a faint smile. Willworker, that seemed to kind of fit. Unlike his 'angel' title, to most people. Brian must know the general score on them. "Been around long enough. What's with your little friend?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. Because he had to ask.

Shit. Shit shit shit. Brian knew about angels and demons and he really, really, really didn't want his familiar with a bullet or a sword or whatever through him. Mya might not've been the violent type, demon or not, but Ash? Ash struck him as the violent type. Unwanted though he was, he was stuck with the little beast, and losing him might well mean losing everything. "He's my familiar," he said, wincing again. "Inherited, believe me, I wouldn't have chosen him. Just... yeah. He's a little beast. Try and pretend he doesn't exist, and we'll all be happier."

Ash looked skeptical, but didn't push. Familiar, huh. He resettled facing the bar and pushed his empty glass more toward the other side of it, to indicate that he wanted another one, should the bartender happened to pass by again. "So now that's out of the way," he said with a faint chuckle. He left it there and open, not sure if being winged and righteous for Karma disqualified him from knowing certain things or not.

"Yeah... and it means that I don't mind telling you I fucked up a working yesterday and now I'm seeing ghosts everywhere," Brian sighed, relieved the guy had let it go, and quite happily changing the subject. "So that's problem number two. It's-- creepy, seeing loads of dead people walking around, and it'll be creepier once they figure out I'm seeing them." He had no idea what, exactly, spirits did to the living, but he wasn't sure he wanted to find out. "And I haven't figured out how to turn it off yet."

That had the angel's eyebrows lifting once again. " ... well, yeah, I could see how that could be a problem," he said and chuckled faintly. He himself had never really delved into the world of spirits. The dead should stay there, and he didn't want to know anything about what they did with the time. Ash was far more comfortable in the physical world, thanks. "That's fucked, man. Think it's permanent?"

"Iiiii'm hopin' not." Brian took a long drink from the vodka-mix. Maybe it was some kind of berry juice mixed in there-- raspberry? Blackberry? Hell, he didn't know. "I was working on trying to get it reversed this morning. No such luck. 'Course, got interrupted in the middle, so that probably didn't help, but I guess it'll take longer than one morning to figure it out. Since I botched the original thing, I don't have notes that cover how to put it back, so I'm just fumbling 'round by feel, pretty much." He'd always respected how much help his father's notes had been, but never more than the times when he went without them.

Ash's knowledge about willworkers was vague and rather ambiguous to begin with. They seemed to just be able to ... do things. More than one type of thing. It was odd. "Good luck," he said with sincerity. "That's some shit I wouldn't wanna be stuck with, that's for sure." He glanced around the interior of the bar, and wondered in a vague way if demons could become ghosts. If so, he wouldn't be at all surprised to find that he had a few pissed-off dead around him.

If he did, Brian wasn't seeing them right now, at least. "Thanks. I think I'll need as much luck as I can get." The bartender came around with more refills for both of them, to which he nodded thanks, and after draining the last of his so he could start on the next-- the buzz was definitely settling in, and it felt pretty damn nice, actually-- he continued. "Which brings me to problem number three...." He'd needed to ask around about this, and Ash was right here, so why the hell not? "I think there's something messed up with a friend of mine... his mem'ry's all spotty."

He was starting to feel nicely numbed out himself, and Ash frowned faintly at Brian's -- what was it, third? -- problem. "Spotty how?" he asked, sipping on his new scotch. He was out of his league here when it came to expertise. He didn't know much at all about ghosts or memories, or hell, even pissed off women. If the guy had a problem with a demon, that could be taken care of. But he was willing to listen anyway.

"Like... he forgets things. Important things. I dunno. I keep thinking maybe I'm the crazy one, I've got plenty of reason, but it's like--" Brian ran a hand through his hair, the helpless frustration all flooding right back. "I pretty much rescued him from vampires. I set them on fire. I teleported us both home. He never asked me how the hell I did that, what I did, nothing-- so I ask him, and he doesn't even remember it. His dog ran away-- first night all the vampires showed up. It's like he doesn't even remember she's gone, he doesn't care. I started fucking glowing, in the middle of a restaurant patio, and he didn't notice. And when I try to tell him something's wrong, he thinks there's something wrong with me, instead."

He listened to all that, attempting to wrap his head around it. "Sounds like he's got a big fat case of denial going on," he said, taking another sip of scotch. "I ain't no expert, by far, m'man, but some people? Their brains ... just can't take it. Knowin' what's real. They'll forget, block shit out, not hear you on certain subjects ... s'a defense mechanism, to preserve sanity, y'know? I think, anyway, I've seen it happen. Dunno if that's what's goin' on with your friend, but don't see why it couldn't happen, y'know?" He hoped that sounded as coherent out loud as it had in his head. The booze was starting to hit harder. Had he even eaten supper tonight? He didn't think so. Hell.

Brian frowned. "I've... never had that happen b'fore," he admitted. And he'd told a fair number of people-- though admittedly most of them wound up being different in some way, too.... "I'd thought it was some kinda represh-- mem'ry-blocking thing? Like, the vampires slaughtered his dog in front of him, now anything vampire-ish he blocks out. 'Cept he was the same way about my glowing, and my freezing Torziel's tail to get him to let go of his leg. So I dunno... you really think?" He gave Ash a look half skeptical and half hopeful. Having an explanation might be night, but if that was the case, what the hell did he do about it?

Ash picked up his glass and gestured with it vaguely. "Man, the brain's a fucked up thing. I can't say f'sure one way or another, y'know? Maybe all th' trauma just ... broke somethin', and he's not gonna acknowledge anything about ... everything, whether it's comin' from you or not," he said, taking a sip. He wanted a cigarette, where did he put his smokes? He pocket-patted again before he saw them sitting on the bar. Ah. "Maybe he's cursed," he suggested, tucking one to his lips and lighting up. That was always a possibility. Fucking demons.

The first idea just about made Brian want to bury his head in his arms miserably, because there was nothing he could do about that. And even if there was, he didn't want to be responsible for driving his friend mad. But then Ash continued, and Brian could latch onto the second pretty easily. A curse, he could do something about-- or find someone to do something about. "Cursed? Like how?"

The angel chuckled. "I dunno, like ... " he waved his smoke around. "Like maybe he pissed somebody off in the past and they put a veil on his eyes or somethin'. I seen a lot, buddy, it wouldn' surprise me. Some kinda demon or black witch or some shit. I mean, I dunno the guy, but if there's one thing I've learned in almost three centuries, it's to not discount anything." He made a flat gesture with his hand and nodded sagely. Then took another drink.

Now that, Brian preferred over sheer repression. He'd never even liked that idea, honestly, before Hunt made him think it actually existed. It seemed too... pat and difficult all at once, just assuming one's brain was that ridiculous and illogical. Throw in the fact that he was rapidly getting towards drunk, and he was latching onto the thing he could do something about. He leaned on the bar, towards Ash, and asked eagerly, "How d'you get stuff like that off? How d'you fix it?"

Despite the inappropriateness of it, that made Ash laugh. "Fuck if I know, man," he said, darkly amused. "I'm just conjuh-- ... conjecturing here. Anyway, I'm an angel, we don't do magic. You're the uh ... the --" he made a wiggly sort of 'ooo magic' motion with his fingers, "-- guy, not me." Not even his blessings ran that way. They were all protection and an intent to do harm to the forces of darkness, not ... fix broken brains. "G'luck, though. Sure you can track somebody down."

"My 'magic' doesn't do curses.... Shit." Now he really did put his head in his hands, briefly, leaning his elbows on the bartop so he wouldn't have to actually hold his head up. He only did it for a minute, though, before pulling his hands through his hair and going for the last of the vodka-thing. "Well, it's a start. Figure out how t'get a curse offa somebody. And that's fuckin' unfair, man," he added, pointing at Ash with the glass. "You mess up and then get th'word right."

"Them's the breaks, chief," Ash said good-naturedly, and clapped Brian on the back again with a friendly grin. Yeah, he was definitely feeling it now. Somebody walked behind them who tipped off his radar and the angel's head turned, sizing the guy up from behind. Not that he could do much in here, but ... something would catch up with him. "If ... if that's what it is," he amended, mind lurching back to the subject at hand as his eyes returned to Brian. "I ain't no expert, told ya. Only three things I'm really good at, brother, an' that ain't one of 'em."

Brian turned a bit in his seat to follow Ash's gaze, and his brows went up in mild surprise at where it'd settled. "I thought you went for girls, man."

He looked blank for a second, then burst out laughing again. "Oh no ... no, that wasn't ... no, that wasn't a 'I'd hit it' look," he said, shaking his head and taking another drink. God, there must be something about this place that made him look more gay or something. "No no, totally straight here, thanks." Though he seemed more amused by the thought than anything.

"Sorry," Brian muttered before downing the last of his drink and holding it up to catch the tender's attention again. The combination of that buzz getting worse, his own preferences, and that unexpected attention on a random guy in the middle of a conversation had led him so down the wrong path. "Y'know, more people're okay with that than I'd've thought, for a small, backwater sorta town." Of course, he'd only told three of his closest friends and Olivia, but that counted. Right? Two of them were long-term residents, even!

"What? Bein' gay?" Ash asked. And then a few things actually clicked into place and he raised his eyebrows at the man. "You battin' for the other team, man?" It probably would've been phrased a bit better if he wasn't on his fifth (?) scotch, but the fact was that he was, and he hadn't expected that.

"Both, thank you very much," Brian grumbled, unable to keep from flushing and trying to cover it by dropping his chin onto his arm, folded on the bartop while he watched the tender mixing again. He hated being thought of as "gay". It just... didn't fit. But he had a boyfriend, so yeah, people were gonna start thinking that. "And that would be problem number four. Though less of a problem than it was." At least he wasn't keeping Domino so much of a secret anymore. And the kid seemed to be being faithful, now. But would he be stupid enough to tell him again if he wasn't?

"Well I'll be damned," he said in a musing sort of way, looking at Brian. Yeah, he hadn't quite seen that one coming. Not that he thought all gay people were the same and totally transparent, it was just ... a little surprising. But he didn't have an issue with it, either way. Whomever or whatever Brian wanted to stick his dick in was totally fine by him. Unless it was kids or dead people, 'cause that just kinda got fucked up. But he was getting off track! He leaned his own elbows on the bar. "So what's that like? Always kinda wondered, but y'know, never ... wondered enough t'find out."

Dragging his mind back from the glumness involved in contemplating the possibility of Domino cheating on him (again) to the conversation at hand, Brian gave Ash a slightly wary look. "What it like... how? What's it like t'fuck a man, or just to find them attr-- att-- good-lookin', or the whole... social stuff about it?" Because hell, that could go a lot of ways, and honestly, he wasn't sure he wanted to be talking about the mechanics of sex, thanks. Not half-drunk-- all the way drunk?-- and not at a bar. Not without going way back in the back and making sure nobody was listening.

Ash grinned. He hadn't really had any specific way in mind, it was just the question that had popped into his head. "Shit, all of the above. Now you got me curious. What about it does it for you?" He took a long swallow of the scotch he was hardly tasting anymore, looking at the guy over the top of his glass. After Ash had packed away a few, that whole filter between brain and mouth tended to crash and burn.

"What does havin' a good woman who you enjoy th'comp'ny of do for you?" Brian countered. "Same thing. I just like 'em both. Man's just as good-lookin' as a woman, both got hands and mouths and bodies and brains, right? Suppose it's a bit diff'rent sometimes... man you're not afraid to kiss harder or 'fraid you'll smother him or whatever. And hell do they know what another man likes, sometimes. Shitty when they're taller than you, though." He made a face. It really wasn't hard to be taller than him; Ash ought to get that, he wasn't a tall guy, either.

"Usually gets me in trouble," he said to the counter-question with a little grin. There were a few things that men didn't have that Ash particularly enjoyed, nor did he really think they were just as good looking, but he wasn't out to change anybody's mind on what they liked, so he just listened. Though he could see that whole thing about them knowing their way around the equipment. "I dunno, I've known some women liked it rougher'n I do," he said musingly, but that was really all. He could sympathize with the taller bit, however. He'd also known a few women that had quite a few inches on him. "But hey, whatever revs your engine, yeah? Don't bother me none." He just really couldn't imagine pillow-talk with another man, himself. And breasts were just ... awesome. And shaved legs. And pussy. ... dammit, he missed Eury. Ash knocked back the rest of his drink and told himself he didn't need another one.

Maybe Ash went for a tougher sort of woman than Brian did; he'd never had that particular "problem". There were benefits to both sexes, as he was fully aware, Brian just happened to be indulging in the rarer preference at the moment.... "Yeah, well, trouble comes from both ways," he admitted. "Got a nice boyfriend right now, 'cept he's way too damn young and flirty and-- shit." He half-drowned his last mutter of, "And works in my diner. Which is hell on the conscience..." with the next drink. Whether Ash seemed to think this was his last or not, though, the bartender was ready with another. "Problem number five, y'know?" Brian grimaced after a hefty swallow.

"That one, you're makin' for yourself," Ash said, completely forgetting what he'd just decided and picking up the new full glass. He pointed at Brian with a knowing look. "Young ones are ... young, you know? Still got everything ahead of 'em. Diner's your's, don't like workin' with 'im? Put 'im on a diff'rent shift, or ... somethin'." And he thought that made sense, but he couldn't be positive. "Or find yourself an older dude. How young is young, anyway?" He eyed Brian sideways. How did you even have a conversation with someone under twenty-five? Much less a relationship? He really wasn't sure, the younger crowd was not one that he hung out with often.

"Hey, it was his idea, not mine," Brian grumbled. "Stupid kid wouldn't leave it alone." Though he hadn't managed to resist him all that long. There was some kind of charm Domino had, that was for sure.

The very idea of finding any man in Marquette interested in that sort of thing was laughable, really. Domino was a fluke, passing through and getting caught in the place. He could find himself a woman if he tried, maybe, but nobody really managed to live up to Mya in his mind, so that had been pretty fruitless, too. He stared at his drink for a long moment before saying, reluctantly and with a definite, and obvious, heaping of embarrassment, "He's eighteen."

This was going to go over like a lead balloon, he was sure of it.

Perhaps wisely, Ash didn't say anything right away. He nursed his drink for a second, then set it down again, licking numb lips. "Legal, at least," he said with a nod. Not that he thought Brian would dip any younger, of course. "Just probably not long-term material." Perfect for a quick fling, maybe, but the willworker didn't seem like the 'quick fling' type of guy. The texture of his karma told Ash that the kid was perfectly willing and knowledgeable about the whole affair, and Brian had forced nothing, so the angel couldn't fault him for that at all. "F'that's what you're hankerin' for."

Considering how often Brian had told himself that exact same thing-- and considering the things Ash didn't know that should have cemented that very knowledge-- Brian really had nothing he could say to that. Maybe he was just deluding himself; after all, he seemed to be good at that. After a moment he came up with a muttered, "I know," and decided a subject change was in order. "You too drunk to beat my ass at pool?"

Ash looked over and considered him for a moment. Yeah, he probably knew that already. As rough around the edges as he was, and with the way he'd resisted it for so many years out of necessity, he could understand the hunt for love. Something lasting. He wasn't too drunk to recognize the diversion, either. Maybe if they moved away from the bar, he'd stop getting drinks, too. Otherwise he'd be crawling home. "Never too drunk for that, my friend," he said, and gave Brian another kind of pat on the shoulder. Not quite so hard this time. Ash turned in the barstool and tried that whole standing up thing. It worked out okay, so maybe he wouldn't eat those words.

Unfortunately, Brian's attempt didn't work out quite so well, because sometime during the conversation, Torziel had snuck back and gotten right underfoot. The willworker wound up with a foot caught on fur and ribs and, after a desperate flail for the bar, the chair, Ash, anything, wound up on his ass on the floor with the chair on top of him and a positively killing knee. "You goddamn fucking cat!" he yelled, aiming a kick at Torziel-- a kick he knew would never actually connect, because the demon-cat danced aside with what looked like a smug expression. The bartender, looking over the counter at the tangle, looked far too amused, and Brian shot him a glare, for good measure, too.

Ash probably could've caught him at least a little if he hadn't been five or six sheets to the wind. As it stood, he was, and he didn't. He more or less just kind of stared dumbly until the events of the past couple of seconds sunk in. And then it was honestly a struggle not to laugh. Because who didn't love a bit of slapstick with their scotch? Instead, he just half-grinned and reached down to pull the chair up off of Brian. "Looks like ya'll have an awesome working relationship," he said, offering the other man a hand up.

"Actually? I kinda hate him," Brian muttered, taking the hand, as well as reaching up to grab the bartop once it was in range, to lever himself to his feet. Fucking demon-cat. He knew Torziel was laughing at him. Knew it. "Let's preten' that didn't happen, a'ight? And go play pool?"

"Pretend what didn' happen?" Ash asked with a wide grin, making sure Brian had his feet before he let him go. He reached for the last of his scotch and tipped it back, then slapped the bartop with his palm and turned to head for the pool tables. "Onward! Pool!"