From across the hallway

Part 17

The bar was a little dingy and very, VERY rough around the edges and Missy had to carefully pull her high-heeled feet from the sticky floor with every step she took.

Missy, who was clutching the wriggling Emily's hand tightly in her own, stared about a little nervously.

This wasn't like any bar she had ever frequented. It was dark and currently littered with a few unsavoury –looking characters dotted here and there, most of which Missy knew she would probably cross the street to avoid.

Along the far wall stood an old and tired looking bar, lined with dusty bottles of liquor and streak-stained glasses. This really wasn't somewhere she should be bringing a two-year old.

"Bathroom is just over here," uttered Wade, close behind her, pointing to a door over to their right, emblazoned with a large pink W.

Missy glanced back at the merc over her shoulder, giving him a lingering look, before nodding.

And with that she tugged Emily over toward the door.

Ten minutes later, the pair emerged hand in hand once more.

Emily had luckily made it into the grotty bathroom stall just in time, which was a relief for both of them.

Missy had then lifted Emily up to the washbasin where the pair of them had run their hands under the faucet, the caramel-haired woman praying that Emily didn't try reading any of the filthy graffiti lining the wall just to their right.

Walking out of the bathroom a little cautiously, Missy glanced around, looking for Wade, and was barely surprised to see him leaning against the bar, talking to a bespectacled man in a Black Sabbath t-shirt who was stood on the other side.

Wade instantly shot them a wide grin, beckoning them over.

Missy knew that they should probably go...but before she knew it, the pair of them were strutting over to the mercenary and his bartender friend.

As they arrived at his side, he pushed a glass towards Missy.

"I got you both a drink," he said cheerily, his eyes grazing over her features. "A whisky and coke for you..."

He tapped the glass full of the dark mixer, before quickly bending down and sweeping the tiny Emily up into his arms with a groan.

"And for you, Chicken Little," he said as Emily gave a giggle, grasping his ear in her tiny digits, her other hand in her drool-covered mouth. "A chocolate milk."

Missy gave a bemused smile, glancing down to indeed see a little carton of chocolate milk with a large cartoon rabbit on the side, sitting on the bar.

She was about to open her mouth to question it when the bartender beside them spoke-

"Chocolate milk is Booth over there's, hangover drink of choice," he uttered, nodding over towards a big-set, guy sitting in the corner, slumped over a glass of whisky.

"Cwoclat?" asked Emily suddenly, causing Wade to beam widely.

"Yuh-huh," replied Wade, setting the tiny girl down onto a high barstool beside them, before standing behind her, making sure she didn't topple backwards. He handed her the carton of milk and undid the cap for her. "'Fraid that you're going to have to wait until you're 21 to start doing shots and hustling guys at pool."

He looked up at Missy, who gave a smirk before glancing down towards her own heart thudded inside her chest.

Emily however didn't seem interested in the milk instead making grabby hands towards a brightly-coloured beer mat on the bar, which Weasel handed to her, chuckling.