Straight Tequila Night
Disclaimer: Neither BTVS nor NCIS is mine. 'Deep Six' comes from the twisted minds of the writers of NCIS. Other names changed to fit the story...
"...Tonight she's only sipping white wine
She's friendly and fun-loving most of the time
Don't ask her on a straight tequila night
She'll start thinking about him and she's ready to fight
Blames her broken heart on every man in sight..."
In keeping with the theme of the place, the bartender was the only one in the place not wearing a mask. D.C. Deception was the hot new nightclub of about three months ago, and he'd been in a few times, enough that his Phantom of the Opera mask and business suit were recognized.
Her nametag said "Sunrise", because one of the rules of the place was you didn't use your real name.
She slid a Scotch over to him, and noticed him looking at the huge mirrored wall behind her. Specifically, a lithe, dark haired woman sporting a blue and yellow feathered Rio de Janiero "Carnivale" number, with a flute of champagne.
"Like what you see, Ghost?" Sunrise asked.
He nodded. "What do you know about her?"
"Goes by Lisa. Half the time she comes in here happy, ordering champagne and just chillin'. Sometimes I think it's the only time she ever relaxes. Girl's a great dancer, has awesome moves."
"And the other half?"
"There's this guy, Tommy. She complains about him, starts ordering up Jose Cuervo and Patron, and makes me start thinking about throwing her out." She gestured over her shoulder at the woman's reflection in the mirror, as his eyebrows went up under his Phantom mask. "Tonight's a champagne night. Seen her by the jukebox a couple times, always picks Trisha Yearwood's 'American Girl' or Celine's 'If You Asked Me To'. If you want to give it a shot." Sunrise shrugged.
Ghost nodded, and reached into his pocket, pulling out a five dollar bill. "Quarters for the jukebox?"
"Of course." Sunrise smiled that smile of hers, and switched the five for a handful of quarters in a practicved move that made him wonder if she'd been a magician in a past life.
He stalked across to the jukebox, which was busily belting out a power ballad he vaguely recognized from the closing credits of 'Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves'. Dropping his quarters in 'till he had three songs up, he picked the two Sunrise had suggested, followed by George Strait's 'The Chair', as it was the longest song he could find in the box.
Stalking across to Lisa's table, he gestured to the empty chair across from her. She must have extended a leg under the table, because the chair started to tip toward him. He took that as an invitation and pulled it out. As he sat, he introduced himself, "They call me Ghost."
Something in the cadence or tone must have surprised her, as she almost choked on her champage. Looking him up and down, she cleared her throat, and choked out, "Lisa."
He raised an eyebrow under the mask. There was something familiar about her voice, but then again, he had that mental Lisa in his head from his novels, and perhaps that's all it was. Just then, the jukebox clicked over to 'American Girl', and she quickly set down the champagne flute and began to softly sing along.
There was an odd twang in her voice as she tried to match Trisha... like she was trying to copy the Southern drawl, but her own accent - more European, possibly Italian? - was getting in her way. Still, she knew all the words, and he could tell she enjoyed it.
He sat back and watched her, singing along and swaying in her chair, through that song and 'If You Asked Me To'. Again, the accent was wrong, this time she tried to copy Celine's Quebecois, and sounded more Provencal. Several minutes had passed, the two of them sitting in silence and Ghost nursing his scotch, when 'The Chair' came on. She sat still, picked up her flute and finished off her champagne.
Looking down at the table, to the point that her mask almost hid her eyes completely, she asked, "Why Ghost?"
He waved absently at the mask. "Close enough to Phantom."
She nodded. Then, unexpectedly, she rose, scooping up her handbag and his hand. she almost danced around the table, and whispered in his ear, "Aren't you curious?"
"From what Sunrise said, you're a fan of 'Deep Six'."
She laughed. "Not exactly. But I'll forgive you." She smiled under the edge of her mask. "Take me home, it'll really frost Tommy's biscuits."
"Cookies." He corrected, unthinking. Then he looked her up and down. "*Agent* Lisa?" He asked in disbelief.
"Take me home, Agent MacGregor." Then she kissed him.