I Spy

Part 4

Part Four:

“You want another drink?”

I snorted and shook my head, holding my hand up to ward off the glass he was pushing in my direction. Taking a page out of Buffy, I responded with extreme distaste, “A world of no.”

I watched as he pushed the shot glass aside and then started adding some coca cola to a mixture of alcohol he’d been poring into a larger cup. “Try this one. It’s sweet.”

Leaning as far back as I could in the stool, I narrowed my eyes, watching him warily, as he added a brownish, honey colored liquid, before passing it to me. A gorgeous man yielding alcoholic beverages wasn’t too bad, but when said gorgeous man was trying to shove those drinks down ones throat, well let’s just say I didn’t bring my Louisville slugger tonight.

“I don’t think so,” I mumbled to him, eyeing him with suspicion. “I am hungry though,” I informed him before sniffing the air. “And since your waitress doesn’t actually, you know, wait on people, she told me I needed to come up here.”

I noticed his jaw clench slightly before he said anything. Clearly, I was frustrating him, but all I could think was ‘join the crowd’.

“What can I get you?”

“I’ll take a steak, very rare, like ‘two minutes on each side’ rare, with some shrimp, and a baked potato.”

The corner of his lip lifted in a sexy smirk, “And to drink?”

I scowled, resisting the urge to slap my hand on the counter again, these people already thought I was nuts, I surely didn’t want to add to it, but it was clear this bartenders intentions. “You are trying to get me drunk,” and before he could think of an excuse I raised my finger, pointing at him accusingly. “Don’t deny it!”

He actually managed to look offended and guilty at the same time. Honestly!

“Do you shove drinks down everyone’s throat or am I special?”

The irritation left his eyes almost as quickly as it had entered them and he transformed into a beautiful smiling young man, intent on seducing me, as he leaned forward and trailed a rough finger down my cheek. “You’re special,” he spoke softly, winking before he turned to put in the order.

I released the breath I’d been holding, probably a little more dramatically than necessary, but seriously, with gods number 1, 2, and 3 surrounding me…well what was a girl to do? I may be weird and slightly oblivious, but I wasn’t totally immune.

Then it dawned on her. “He was insulting me wasn’t he? ‘You’re special,’” I snorted. “Please. He knows the dead guy and he don’t want to give up the info, that’s what it is.”

“Hmm, I thought you weren’t here about the dead guy?” the guy with the spider tattoo responded.

Quick, topic change!

“Did that hurt?” I asked, suavely changing the subject, as I pointed to the tattoo.

“Not so suavely,” Saviter chuckled.

I stiffened, turning to throw him a glare over my shoulder. “That is impolite! Now, I can’t decide if you are reading my mind or if you’re just intuitive,” I cleared my throat and turned back towards Spiderman, but not before hearing a snort from Sav. “So, did that hurt?”

He shrugged coolly. “Not really.”

I nodded and patted him on the back. “Not really meaning, oh god excruciating pain? I completely understand. I tried to get my ears pierced a year ago and chickened out while watching another girl have it done. That earring gun is fierce,” I shook my head, staring back at the tattoo once more, “can’t imagine sitting still for so long just for the pain of a pretty tattoo.”

I looked up to see his lip curled in a ‘what the fuck’ kind of expression. I’d seen that face frequently on people when they spoke to me, but luckily it suddenly dawned on him that I’d called his tattoo pretty. Men were so easy to read.

I cleared my throat before speaking. “Well, you look highly offended. It’s the pretty thing right?”

“This is not a pretty tattoo,” he demanded, confirming my suspicion.

I shook my head. “It is pretty, don’t deny it.”

He seemed to be at a loss for words as he tried once, then twice to think of something to say. Then he shifted his astonished gaze to the man behind me. “Is she human?” he demanded.

I frowned and tucked my hair behind my ears. “What else would I be, a crazy bird that has an attitude about people poking him?” I paused, frowning slightly before voicing an earlier thought. “Really though, if I were a bird, I wouldn’t like it too much if someone came and poked me awake. I kind of feel bad now. I traumatized him,” I said, feeling terribly distraught. “Poor little guy.”

Now, I was determined to find the hawk and apologize, but it had to be quick. I peaked swiftly at the dead alive guy, sighing in relief that he was still there. I couldn’t let my mishap with the evil, but slightly more justified, hawk distract me for too long.

“Do you think the hawk would understand if I apologized?”

“No,” a deep, menacing voice came from behind me.

I yelped in surprise and turned to see a tall brownish blond haired man standing over me. “Are you the owner of the bird?”

“Hawk, the hawk,” he snapped way angrier than he should’ve been.

“Holy shitake mushrooms, just breathe-um what’s your name?”

“His name is Jasyn and he was just about to apologize for his rude behavior. Weren’t you, Gerakian?”

 “Is that another word for jerk?” I asked Savitar.

He shrugged nonchalantly, his gaze glued to the man towering over me. I turned to stare as well.

It seemed to be the thing to do.

It was then that I noticed Jasyn had the same blue eyes of that bird. “You’re the hawk!” I screamed, pointing my finger crazily.

There was no way both could have the same eyes and not be the same, but of course the more logical it seemed usually meant the crazier I sounded. If I could’ve banged my head against the bar counter without making myself look even more insane I’d probably have done it by now.

Silence filled the room and I realized how stupid I must’ve looked. He was the hawk, for sure. What a moron!

 I cleared my throat, ran my fingers through my yellow hair, and gave a timid ‘stupid me’ laugh. “I’m just kidding. I’m not crazy. It was just a joke,” I added another chuckle for oomph.

She was clearly sounding like a loon every time she spoke. The last thing she needed was another threat involving authorities locking her up in a white room where no one would ever see her again.

The sound of a plate hitting the wood seemed to echo, the smell of the steak made me drool, it also helped that the food showed up at just the right time.

“Talk about timing,” I grinned up at Kyle, who seemed to be entranced with my face. I quickly grabbed the plate and walked to the safe corner in the table, where I had first started out my night.

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So that’s what happened not but three minutes ago and as I sit writing about it in this corner, I can feel people stare at me. All I wanted to do was get out of there, but Mr. Gallagher, my mission for the night, had yet to leave.

This was probably going to be a long night.

Calliope

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