Happy Birthday, Roger Motherfucking Davis

[make_creation]

Mark wasn't shocked by many things, but the speed and efficiency with which Angua pulled a party together was a thing of wonder. There were lists and orders and locations and food and drink...enough things to make his Boho head spin. Mark's idea of a party (and Roger's too, he was sure) consisted of some booze and some weed, some good music and an

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[red_ponytail]

It was Bill's best mate's birthday, which meant Bill was definitely going to fucking be there. The Hardcore Direwolves were performing, unfortunately without their drummer, even after Bill had tried (unsuccessfully) to charm Helen into letting Arya in just for the performance.

The Speakeasy looked bloody great, and everyone seemed to be having a good time, so Bill took advantage of the time before performing to have a drink whilst waiting for an opportunity to wish the birthday boy many happy returns.

[wayward_dad]

John couldn't have missed Roger's party even if he'd wanted to. With Angua having organized everything, no way in hell John would have even dreamed of declining his invitation. Besides, he liked Roger, even if the guy was a little rough around the edges. The same could be said about all three Winchesters, though Roger's edges had been worn down from different brands of heartache and tough luck.

He nodded in greeting at those he knew, got himself a drink, and found a less-crowded area of the place to take up.

[one__song]

When Roger had invited John, he didn't imagine in his wildest dreams (the jury was still out on whether or not it constituted as a nightmare or a validation fantasy) that he'd actually show up. But there he was, looking surly and just like home. The hut-home, not New York. Though, eh, either could work.

"Hey," Roger said, sliding next to John. He poured himself a drink to level the playing field. "Good to see you. Thanks for coming." He still wasn't sure whether or not it was okay to call him John, seeing as he wasn't a Mister-calling kinda guy, so he left off the address altogether.

[wayward_dad]

"Hey there, Roger," Jon greeted in return, lifting up his glass. "Happy birthday." He took a swig of Jack and glanced around the room as the liquid burned hot down his throat. A good many people had showed up for Roger's birthday and all seemed to be enjoying themselves. Angua had to be damned proud; the place looked good.

"Wouldn't've missed it." He gestured to where Dean and Angua were. "Think I would've had my ass tracked down by certain roommates of yours if I'd tried." A beat. "I didn't."

[one__song]

"I figured," Roger said, nodding his thanks and lifting his own glass in respect. "I mean, hunting your dad down usually comes up in household conversation." Roger chuckled. Whatever propelled John there, he appreciated it all the same.