how could i resist?
Story: Timeless { backstory | index }
Title: How One Does
Rating: G
Challenge: Vanilla #23: music/dancing/singing
Toppings/Extras: cookie crumbs
Wordcount: 355
Summary: Edward Ashdown makes a new friend.
Notes: Cookie crumbs of hi_falootin’s wonderful banana milkshake! As requested. ;)
Edit: Font is being really weird...? Um, oh well.
The bar wasn’t too crowded, but there were enough people around to make it just about pleasant enough. There was a throng around the jukebox, picking one old song after the other, and the atmosphere was a friendly one. A gaggle of girls were giggling over a pool table and people were taking advantage of the small dancefloor.
A nice place, and of suitable classiness too, Edward Ashdown felt. A winner. He would have to bring Pia here-well… Pia and class didn’t exactly go hand-in-hand, but the results never failed to be amusing.
As he sipped from a large, bubbling cocktail, Edward couldn’t help but notice a fairly tall and very burly man wind his way through the group of people, making a beeline towards his spot along the bar. Edward watched, blinking slowly, as the man finally arrived at his destination-directly in front of him-and then rested one thick elbow on the bar, hair a blonde so fearsome it was better described as yellow, looking at him.
Edward looked back, expectant.
“How you doin’?” the man asked after a short pause, nodding a couple of times, easy grin on his face.
Before responding, Edward couldn’t help but let his gaze sweep over the man, specifically his rather shapely chest-exposed between two flaps of a buttonless black waistcoat that looked minute on the broad-shouldered man. One eyebrow arched, he looked back towards the man’s blasé face.
“Perfectly well, thank you,” he finally replied daintily. “How do you do?”
The taller man hooted with laughter.
“I’ll do it however you want,” he said with more than enough swagger in his voice to make up for his lack of movement. Other eyebrow rising to join the first near the top of his head, Ashdown inspected the man critically.
“What’s your name?” he asked, and then drained his cocktail.
“Scout,” the man replied brightly. Edward put his glass down on the bar with a sharp click and smiled indulgently.
“If you would like to buy me a drink,” he said with the air of one having given the Scout a diamond opportunity, “you may.”