noteasytobepink | Wheelsy AU ~ Tire changing

Bill glanced over at the game, and shook his head.

"Huh? Oh, I promise, she c'n handle herself."

The kissing comment made him blink, and finally it clicked that he may have wandered into a bit of a situation here.

"She uh, she ain't ignorin' me. She's tryin' t'win me some new truck tires."

"My rep ain't gonna hurt none losin' out t'someone like you," he snorted, trying to sound unconcerned, but giving a quick glance around right after he said it.

Digging into his pocket, he pulled out a wad of bills. Counting out the money, he held the sixteen in his hand.

"Double or nothin', but I break, an' I'll do it in any damn order I please."

"Out of Roger?!" the blonde laughed and slapped Bill on the shoulder. "Really? Man you been played. She was just looking for some danger. C'mon and let's go that way she doesn't get you hurt right?"

Clarice waved her cue to an empty table nearby where he could lay the money. That way they could both keep an eye on it right? "One condition, regardless of order you still call pockets and banks." Or else? Or else what?

She tore him apart verbally, in front of his friends and peers, and made sure he never lived it down.

"I have not. Just 'cause she-- " Well true, Clarice had been kind of spoiling for some action, but Bill knew she hadn't played him. "She wouldn't do that. "Why? What's he like t'do?"

Bill turned his attention back to the table again, taking in the look of Roger, that glare and grip on the money, and then of Clarice.

He wet his lips, wondering if he shouldn't say something.

Roger slapped the money down onto the table.

"Fine."

Once the balls were set, he took his break and started working through the stripes, sinking two on the break, and a third right after. If he could clear the table before giving her a shot he'd have the money.

"Just 'cause she what? Brought you to a bad part of town, to a seedy bar, and picked the biggest, meanest regular to sharp? Yeah, you been played man. I'm sorry, that's just how it is. Why don't we take your cherries to another table now huh?" C'mon, she'd keep him company, she would!

Clarice was...leaning against a wall and watching the shots, quietly. Each and every stroke was measured and weighed to make sure the man was following the rules. And yes, if he pulled off a flawless game with properly called shots and no mistakes she would walk. She had set the rules after all.

But that was a rather weighty gaze, and she was awfully quiet as she watched. She wasn't a bragger, she didn't try to distract him, this was his one and only fair chance.

Bill frowned, trying to think of a comeback, and found himself with a familiar feeling settling in his gut.

He'd made a lot of excuses for Starla, too. Explaining away the things she did, and the reasons he let it go. But it was different with Clarice. This wasn't what that was.

At least, that's what he told himself.

"I'm fine t'sit here an' wait on her."

One by one the rest of the balls fell off the table, and Roger was sure to have that money back in his pocket again. He did his best to ignore the stare of the creepy pink girl, and cleared the table down to the eight.

It was an easy setup. Straight shot into the corner pocket. Lining it up, he took his shot and watched as it bounced off of the corner of the pocket and richoteted back out into the middle of the table.

"Shit."

The blonde huffed a sigh and stole another of Bill's cherries. She was not happy with Bill's answer and it showed on her face. "Fine, but I get to say I told you so."

And Clarice was...just going to flow into motion. Shot after shot after shot called properly with no hinderance from his balls at all.

Her eight shot didn't bounce.

This had to be enough to pay for truck tires right? "It's been a pleasure. You had a nice come back. Straighten your elbows a bit on your straight shots and you won't get a bounce again."

"You wouldn't be the first," he muttered, deciding he didn't much care what she said or thought, and turning his attention back to the game.

Roger's annoyance grew into anger as he watched. With the game over he kept back against the wall, grating his teeth.

"Bitch."

There was a slight attempt to keep it under his breath, but it was still loud enough to be heard.

Bill certainly did, and the shift from calm and easy to anger was instantaneous.

"Hey."

He could be as angry as he liked as long as he didn't try to stop Clarice from picking up the money. That wouldn't go well at all if he did! "Asshole," Clarice offered back rather genially. "Pointless to get angry." And it was.

Really pointless to get angry over losing a game he knew someone else was capable of winning at! He could have walked away at $800 now couldn't he have? Yep.

The blonde's gaze snapped to Bill when he got angry, a strange smile on her face. She seemed to like that look. Clarice was...heading in Bill's direction once she had the money in her pocket?

He didn't stop her. Instead his attention flicked to Bill, who was now standing, unsteadily, and walking over.

"You don't talk t'her like that." Sure Bill knew Clarice was plenty capable of taking care of herself, but that didn't mean he was going to sit and take this jackass tossing out insults.

Roger spat to the side with a sneer. He wasn't about to pick a real fight with a woman, but her drunk boyfriend? Hell yeah. Especially because he knew this was one he would win.

"Why? You gonna do somethin' about it?"

Ah, facepalming time.

"No," Clarice figured she'd drop that in there between whatever they were going to say next. "Bill, I'm a far better bitch and I bite a damn site harder than any this little piece has ever known." She was and she did quite honestly.

Cue the blonde woman snickering. "Ohhhh, yeah, I warned you Bill."

Clarice was going to ignore her now yep. "And we have everything we want Bill. I suggest we head for friendlier places where I can kiss you properly. You keep this up and I WILL be cracking skulls."

Bill stood by Clarice, jaw set. He tossed a Look at the blonde before backing down from an escalation with Roger. Giving Clarice a nod, Bill stepped back, ready to go.

"Yeah, that's it," Roger taunted. "Tuck your tail an' slink off behind your woman. Already let 'er fight one battle for you tonight."

Bill paused halfway into turning around and glared back at Roger.

"Kicked your ass, didn't she?"

Roger strode forward a couple steps.

"That freak got lucky. But I'll kick your chicken shit ass all over this place."

"Freak?"

Clarice sighed and stepped forward enough to rabbit punch Roger. She was kind and didn't aim for his throat like she wanted to. "Violent freak" she noted mildly.

That breaking bottle sound? Yeah, that was the blonde that hadn't gotten what she wanted smashing a glasss to arm herself. The sound seemed to be a signal to the bar at large.

"Oh, well, " damn, she had actually tried to head this off? "Bill? Bathrooms?" They could hop from there if necessary.

Both men were taken by surprise by the action. Bill blinked, and Roger had his head snap back and his nose crunch.

The bottle pulled Bill out of it, and he glanced at Clarice, then looked around.

"But... "

Getting the hell out would be the smart thing to do, but being the cop that he was he felt like maybe he should try and diffuse the situation.

And then a chair went sailing by and the bar errupted, and he thought better of trying to police the situation alone.

He turned, having lost track of the exit since they came in.

"Wh-- " That Uphf and grunt was the result of Bill being clocked upside the head by a man who just didn't know when to quit.

Yeah, well, Clarice really hadn't liked Roger at all and it was nice to get to hit him? But then ther ewas a brawl and nothing EVER went as planned in a brawl.

Ever.

She tried to keep track of Bill but she had a suddenly crazy blonde after her and taht took a bit of not getting stabbed, "Bill?! Speak up babe!"

Bill was known and well liked for his easy going nature, but that didn't mean he didn't know how to fight. He was a cop, after all, and a country boy, and at one time he was a dumb twenty-something hanging out with other dummies that age doing things guys do to earn their manhood.

Which sometimes meant bar fighting.

His disadvantages were, one not being twenty-something anymore, and two a whiskey shot count that was up into the double digits at this point.

The last part had the slight benefit of making the blows he took hurt a bit less, but it blunted his reaction time quite a bit and so he got tagged more than once in the course of fighting back.

He was still holding his own, and just when Roger thought he had the fight, Bill threw a left haymaker that floored the man.

Bill's victory was short lived, though. Hearing his name he turned towards Clarice's voice and straight into a flying fist that sent him ass over tea kettle into a group of chairs, and found him on the ground beneath a table.

"Ow."

Clarice's main problem in a bar barwl was...she wasn't suppose to disable or kill anyone. With how much she'd had to drink it was a little hard to rein herself in.

Especially when the weapons came out.

Luckily a pool cue made a pretty good equalizer. She didn't get her hands on anyone directly and she only really, really bruised people.

Granted she still caught her own blows, it was impossible not to when the whole place was a seething morass of limbs now, and once or twice she felt hands coping a feel or going for the money she'd taken from Roger.

Those people got broken hands and fingers.

Then she couldn't see Bill anymore.

That was bad.

That was very bad.

Yeah, she was going to take and hold the bar. It'd give her a height advantage while she tried to find her man! And if worse came to worse it was by very flammable alcohol!

Bill struggled to get to his feet and was helped along by a rough hand seizing the back of his collar.

The overzealous brawler didn't stop with just dragging Bill up, he hefted the sheriff off the ground like a wrestler and prepared to toss him over the crowd.

Bill flailed and grabbed at the guy, and let out a very unmanly, "Shiiiiiiit!"

Oh. Oh! That was Bill. That was Bill getting hauled up by a rather tall guy there! And...he didn't want her teleporting in public.

Shit indeed.

Well, the other option was to drop her pool cue, ignore the people flailing at her above the bar, and take a running jump at the guy holding Bill? Sure, they'd all go down but then it'd be two on one!

The flying attack worked. Sort of?

Rather than being chucked across the bar Bill was unceremoniously dumped on the floor as the big guy went down under Clarice.

Picking himself up, again, Bill laid a hand againt his back and groaned.

"I am officially all funned out."

Can they go home now?

"Door!" Clarice pointed, trying to get off the tackled man without more damage to either of hem really. "Move dear! MOVE!'"

Bill heard the order and followed it quickly, heading for the door that was finally in sight.

A pool cue splintered against his shoulder, and a glass of beer exploded above his head, but he still managed to scramble outside.

She caught something, hard, across the ribs and dodged someone trying to wrap their fist in her hair but eventually she followed him, caught his hand, and kept running! Around to the alley where they could teleport safely...right? "Clear?!"

He stumbled along with her.

"Yeah."

He didn't much care if it was, it was time to go.

She snatched up a bit of broken plank in the alley and used it to shape a portal ahead of them, that way they could just keep running. The portal came out where they'd first arrived in town, she'd promised to stop by and tell the others how the game had gone after all. But for now...she was going to keep an arm around Bill's waist and lean back against the wall trying to catch her breath.

Bill hunched over, hands on his knees, panting and trying not to upchuck all the booze and bar food sloshing around in his gut.

Lots of drinking followed by fighting and running wasn't so good for the digestion.

Tilting his head, he looked her over.

"Y'alright?"

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