FRIDAY BARNES STUFF

Drunk

A/N: Friday is 18 in this story!!! So don't ask dumb questions. I would like to say a HUGE thank you to Girly1uno she was my editor and dealt with me being annoying. There will be a part 2.

Friday sat mournfully sat at bench of the Tinker wood bar. She had been working on a case for the past month and it was disturbingly unsolvable.

This was everything she was aware of, 32-year-old Amy Warn vanished during her journey to North America, the last time she was seen at her hotel at 6:30. She was discovered dead in her vacation home pool in Australia. A bullet had pierced her heart, and she was dressed in a dinosaur outfit. There was no evidence of the crime. The only information they had was that she had passed away two weeks prior to her disappearance. 

None of the clues matched up, and none of them were connected. She had thought about it for the past few days but couldn't figure it out. Melanie had suggested they hit up the bar, she and Friday weren't into drinking at all. They hardly ever touched alcohol. But in all of Melanie's cheesy romance books, the bar was the perfect place to think things over and get drunk while doing it. Friday dismissed the suggestion as a joke and didn't dwell on it until later that night when she found herself unable to stop thinking about the case. Seated at her desk, the radiant glow of her lamp illuminated the corner of the room as she spun around in her chair and peeked. Melanie was fast asleep in her typical burrito-like position. Friday decided not to disturb her, as she appeared so serene. Instead, she stood up, slipped into her cardigan, and ventured out onto the street.

Which leads to her sitting mournfully in a bar, feeling sorry for herself. It was 5:00 in the morning but Friday was completely oblivious and thought it was somewhere around 10:30. It stunk of cigarettes mixed with alcohol, a pungent smell that revolted Friday, as for looks it was tacky. Paint peeling of the walls, the fabric setting was torn and stained a colour by a method Friday could only assume the worst of , worst of all was the gleaming neon lights, they occasionally flickered, making her head spin and there was a soft buzzing coming for it, whether she imagined that or if it was real she didn't know. All she knew is that she was starting to regretting coming here. She was in the process deciding if she should leave and go back to bed, when two fists banged onto the counter. Friday jumped and shriveled back into her skin she looked up and her eyes met with a tired looking gentlemen giving her a warm smile.

"What can I get you piccola" he asked. Friday said nothing but just observed him. He was about 38 give or take a year or two. He was clearly from Italian decent and his accent had a tinge of Italian in it. He looked as if he hadn't slept in days; the bags under his eyes were so defined it looked as if he was wearing mascara (future lash to be precise). He had a bruise on his left cheek most likely caused by a fist, understandably considering his job was to serve a beverage that remove your inhibitions and disrupt your emotional regulation, causing you to lash out.

"Hello...Miss?" he said waving his hand in front of her face trying to get her attention.  

"Sorry?" Friday asked rubbing her face in confusion.

The bartender came down to her level "What will you have to drink" he said it softly and slowly as if he were explaining it to a two year old (not that anyone should be asking that to a two year old). 

"I don't know. I've never done this before" she said "what do you suggest."

He looked her up and down. He nodded and replied "Strawberry gin smash, pinch of guava... and a tiny umbrella."  

Friday nodded, she said no more and watched him as he made the beverage with such gusto it was like watching a commercial. He put it all into what seemed to be a metal cylinder and shook it around quite vigorously, Friday couldn't imagine how much upper arm strength it took to shake it that fast. He stopped shaking and opened it up, pouring the contents into a sparkly glass. Topping it of with a straw and a pink tiny umbrella. He handed it to Friday.

She stared down at it not daring to try it. But with the bartenders eyes on her she had no choice but to bring it up to her lips and slowly take her first sip. Fireworks, strawberry flavored fireworks filled her mouth. Friday didn't expect this it was delicious. She new she had to pace her self so as to make it last. So she tried to make conversation with the bartender who was busy polishing glasses.

"What's your" name she asked.

The bartender looked up and smiled "Lorenzo."

"Lorenzo that's Italian. I knew you were Italian" Friday said taking another sip and pointing her glass at him "I could tell by your accent"  

Lorenzo laughed "So why are you here so late in the night... or should I say morning"

"It's not that late"

"It's 9:00 pm"

"Oh is it really" she said taking another swig "I probably was thinking to hard to notice, it's  my job you see"

"Ah! discovering what it's like to have a job for the first. The whole concept must perplex you"

"Yes well...I guess it does. But I'm still the smartest person working there" she went to take another sip of her glass, only to find it was empty "can I have refill please" she said pushing the glass towards him.

"Sure thing"

*5 min later* 

"Do... you know much..." Friday paused and took another gulp of her drink "about homicide."

"I'm sorry ?" Lorenzo asked quite confused, it was if she was about to confess to a murder.

"My job, I'm working *hic*on a homicide case. I work for Interpol" 

Lorenzo was taken aback, he had heard stories of infidelity and shady business deals, but a murder could be a first. 

"Oh, ho fatto una cazzata, ho appena dato dell'alcol a un fottuto assassino" Lorenzo cried throwing his hands up in the air. (translation. Oh, I fucked up, I just gave alcohol to a fucking murderer)

Friday looked up at him and stared at him blankly, but then burst into a fit of giggles she replied to him in swift Italian "No, non l'ho fatto, sono l'investigatore che lavora sul caso" (translation. No, I didn't, I'm the investigator working on the case)  

Lorenzo's face dropped slightly "You can speak Italian"

"Yeah I think ... do I speak Italian ? ...or was that just Spanish" Friday thought staring into her already empty glass. 

"I think I may need a refill" she said holding up her glass. Lorenzo hesitated she was already starting to get a bit clumsy, and she  seemed to be having a harder time stringing sentences together. He took the glass and started to make the drink, but this time he made sure to lower the alcohol.     

Part 2 coming soon