The Proper Motivation

Seeds of Envy

Once the last plate was cleared, Fowler and their other superiors headed to the stage to give end-of-year speeches and accolades. There were multiple speeches congratulating those who'd been promoted, highlighting any relevant achievements, saying farewell to those who had retired, greeting those who had joined them, and mourning those who had been lost. There was relative quiet throughout the brief speeches, and soon the DJ returned to set up the music. Nines was content to sit quietly and watch those around the tables, his eyes falling briefly on Hank, Richard, and Fowler as they talked.

"What the fuck is this?" Hank seemed quite offended as he smelled Richard's drink, which Nines had assumed to be a whiskey shot similar to Gavin's. It was in an identical glass, and the liquid was a similar amber colour, though perhaps a shade lighter. Fowler, who was sitting back in his seat with an arm around his wife, chuckled as he watched Hank turn his nose up at it. Hank had always been serious about whiskey. They used to go to Jimmy's Bar every night and work their way through his collection.

"It's salted watermelon whiskey!" Richard folded his arms and crossed his legs defensively, dark eyes almost daring Hank to comment on it. For a man of such slight stature, Richard Perkins was actually quite intimidating. It might have been the authority he carried as an FBI agent, or the sharpness of his aged chestnut eyes, but the man was quite unsettling. Nines believed that Gavin would say that he looks like he's seen some shit, which Nines didn't doubt. He'd been with the FBI for almost twenty years. Hank, never one to be intimidated, and especially not by Richard, scoffed as he held up the offending beverage to show Fowler.

"Can you believe this shit, Jeff? Watermelon! Have you ever heard anything so ridiculous!" Fowler seemed to agree it was unusual, but he wouldn't fault people for liking it. Some people just weren't cut out for real whiskey. Richard called that elitist snobbery. Flavoured whiskey was still whiskey, and it still took the same time and effort to make. Hank insisted there was something wrong with his tastebuds, however Richard pointed out that he had similar favourites to Hank. He just liked the flavoured whiskies, too.

"Why don't you try it before you turn your nose up at it!" Richard griped as he snuck Hank's glass across the table and sipped. He'd made a good choice. A strong, woody flavour with a hint of smoke. He hummed his appreciation and smirked as Hank noticed and gave him a scowl. "Just try a sip!" It wouldn't kill him. Fowler shrugged, suggesting he was on Richard's side. May as well try it before judging. If he didn't try it, then Richard won by default. Hank grumbled quietly before sniffing the glass distrustfully. It didn't smell too bad. There was still that strong whiskey base; there was just a fruity sweetness underneath. Taking a small sip, he worked it around his mouth and blinked in surprise.

"That isn't right...This abomination has no right to taste that good!" Richard smirked smugly, still sipping Hank's drink as he leaned across the table to hand the glass to Fowler. "Tell me I'm crazy. Do you taste that?" Fowler obligingly took the drink and sipped, seeming just as surprised as Hank as he lowered the glass. Licking his lips, he went in for another sip, taking his time and savouring it as if trying to assess the flavour. "You can taste the fucking watermelon!"

"And salt; it's salty!" Fowler added as he leaned forward, all three now heavily engaged. Fowler was pleasantly surprised. Like Hank, he'd assumed the flavoured whiskey would taste painfully sweet and artificial, like some sort of cheap schnaps, but he was wrong. Very wrong. The taste of the whiskey was unmistakably still there, carrying most of the flavour. The watermelon brought with it a hint of sweetness, not overpowering like he'd expected, but soft and subtle. There was also that hint of salt, which mingled with the watermelon and left a pleasant aftertaste on the tongue.

"But you still get that smoky undertone, right?" Richard added with a grin, still sipping Hank's drink like it was his own. Hank and Fowler both nodded their agreement as the glass went back to Hank. Since they were on a roll, and he was finally winning Hank and Fowler over to his side, Richard suggested they try more flavours. The bar was free, so it wasn't like they were paying for it. Hank liked his way of thinking and cautiously followed his recommendation of salty caramel, mango, and strawberry as their next three flavours. While Hank and Richard made their way through the crowd to get the next round in, Fowler sat back with his wife, Gillian, and shared a few quiet words.