somethingwithturquoise | Some Space Bar in some Space Galaxy; Dimension FH-001; Friday Evening [05/12].

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Some Space Bar in some Space Galaxy; Dimension FH-001; Friday Evening [05/12].

Summer and Stark were, at this point, on their third space bar, and the evening had been going well. There was a little bit of space shopping before hand, to ensure that they looked their space best, and the first two space bars had been great. This one, however, was not impressing Summer very much, so it might not be too long before they found their way to Space Bar #4. She was pretty sure those were strands of 'Get Schwifty' mixed into whatever god-awful dub-step garbage the DJ was pumping out, and she was having some issues with the jerk bartender.

"That's so speciesist!" she declared. "You can't just assume I can't handle it just because I'm from Earth. I once huffed an entire K-Zax Array!"

"You huffed a Marlazzeh Gay?"

"No!" said Summer. "Well...maybe. I've had some pretty wild weekends lately, but what I said was K-Zax Array! Do you know what that is? That's like smoking The Ring, okay? Most pilots die after three days!"

"I still can't serve that to Earthlings. Federation law."

"Bitch," said Summer, "I destroyed the Federation!"

The bartender looked unimpressed.

"Ugh! Fine! Just...get me two of those glowing smoking ones in the fancy glasses, then, I guess."

And, once she had those two glowing smoking drinks in the fancy glasses, she drifted back over to where Stark was waiting to hand him one and then liberally take a drink from her own. "That bartender," she announced, "sucks. I swear to god, if you tip him over ten percent, I'm leaving you here."

She knew it would probably be impossible to convince Stark not to tip at all, so she figured that was a good compromise.

"....okay, fifteen percent," she allowed, looking at her drink, impressed, "because, damn, that's actually really good. Or I'm already really drunk. One of the two."

[[ for the egregiously modded alien with her, and NFB for distance, obvi ]]

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If there was going to be leaning then Stark would just have to use both hands to steady Summer against him.

"Hmmm, I like private," he said, grinning at her. "Private is good. And you have good idea. I like your ideas."

"Mmmm. That's true," Summer agreed. "I do have pretty great ideas."

And she was just going to take a moment to revel in that. Almost long enough for her to nearly forget what she was reveling in in the first place, and then she remembered, and she grinned, patting a hand on Stark's chest before pulling away again to climb into the ship.

"Well," she said, "hop in, buckle up, and let's get going. This place's got the best bartender in the whole multiverse. And she's cute, too."

Stark's face fell when Summer stepped away but only for a moment.

"Oh? I know a very cute bartender," he said, as he followed her into the ship. "My favorite bartender is very cute. Very pretty. Very good at what she does. I wonder if they know each other?"

"Oh, yeah?" asked Summer, shooting Stark a smirk over her shoulder as she slipped into the driver's seat, turning on the ignition and going through all her pre-flight checks like she could do them in her sleep. "They might! It's a pretty small multiverse. She must be pretty good, though, if she's your faaaavorrrite."

"She's very good," Stark said, nodding and grinning like an idiot over at her as he settled into his seat. "The best one that I know."

Sorry, Jane and Jane's arms!

"Much better than that last bartender."

"Yeah, well," Summer snorted, "that bar's so low, I'm surprised we didn't fucking trip on it on the way out. Sorry about this last stop being such a dud; we were doing so well up until this point, too!"

"The drink was good. And it glowed."

Stark appreciated those little touches, Summer. He appreciated them so much.

"So was the company. The company is always good. Maybe my favorite company."

"Clearly," said Summer, with more than enough booze in her to just let that feed her ego very nicely right now as she gave that ridiculous pimp stick gear shift a throttle and got them lifted clumsily out of space bar parking lot, "you have very good taste, Stark."

This guy was good at feeding egos.

"I try to," Stark said, grinning even wider. "Sometimes it's very easy. Sometimes I need help. But I have my favorite stylist to help with that."

"Favorite bartender, favorite company, favorite stylist," Summer mused, and were she sober, this would all hit pretty differently and she would definitely thing better of this next part, but since she wasn't...

"Got any other favorites I should know about?"

"I have a favorite person to dance with," Stark said thoughtfully. "And a favorite person to drink with."

Was he drunk enough to continue? That glowing, smoking drink had hit hard.

"A favorite friend. A favorite person to..."

He probably shouldn't continue. He was going to at least pause for a moment.

Summer bit her lower lip a little, reminding herself that she needed to focus on getting up to speed and breaking atmo and putting in portal coordinates.

"...get high with?" she suggested helpfully.

"Mmmmm, that too. Not what I was going to say, but that too."

Stark's grin had turned into something a little more serious and little more intense.

"My favorite person to... do a lot of things with. Maybe even some things we might do later."

That little bit of seriousness, that little bit of intensity, managed to make the buzz a little, and Summer accelerated that little bit more. The sooner they got there, the better. A little more drinking, a little more dancing.

Summer fished out her phone, nestling into its little nook in the dashboard, and pulled up a playlist.

"You don't think," she asked, as a song began to play, "your favorite person would mind?'

Edited 2023-05-13 03:44 (UTC)

"I don't think she'd mind at all," Stark said. "She can be very understanding. That's part of why she's my favorite."

Summer snorted a little, because that was hardly a word she would use to describe h-- errm, anyone in this random assortment of Stark's favorite people who clearly had no other connections or associations to each other besides that factor. Ahem.

"Well," she said, maybe a little softly, glancing over at Stark with a faint, crooked smile, "so long as she won't mind."

And she gunned the ship a little faster to break from atmosphere to the openness of space, and, once clear of any of the additional affects of gravity, punched in her portal projection button and flipped a switch or two on the dash to open up that glowing, somewhat glittering pink gateway of energy to slip right through and pop, just like that, from one part of space to another.

Stark had found this favorite person to be more understanding of several of his particular issues than other friends were.

"If she did mind I could always apologize to her later. I'm sure I could make it up to her. It's odd, portals on a ship like this. Nothing like Starbursts on Moya. It's so much smoother."

"Well," Summer snorted again, her attention shifted slightly to making a few adjustments now that they'd gone through, and she needed to adjust their coordinates accordingly and get ready for a descent onto the small blue marble of a planet they'd wound up over, "if she's so understanding, and all, I'm suuuure you could.

"And it's rigged up to the portal gun, actually," she said, "so it's, like, just the same technology, only...projected, I guess, through the front of the ship." Her idea, Barry's work, of course, but she was going to very solidly not think about that right now, and focus on landing procedures, because the sooner she did that, the sooner she could bust out some of the alcohol stashed in the back to drown out the annoying little tendrils of sobering thoughts creeping in on her. "Come in clutch during a battle. Makes planet hopping a fucking breeze."

Stark was sure he could think of a few ways to make things up to that favorite person.

"It's clever," he said. "I like it. And I like the ship. What I've seen of it, so far. I'm glad you took me for a ride, finally."

"It is insane to me," Summer declared, "that you have not actually been in my ship until now."

But, to be fair, she hadn't been taking it out a whole lot these days, either. Had talked about doing so with a lot of people, but she'd been pretty lax about the follow-through on all of that.

"You know I actually helped build her, too?" she added, proudly. "Well, not from scratch, obviously, Hera and I found a cheap old junker and souped her up to the glorious little transport you see before you today! And she keeps getting better, too. The pimp stick and the disco ball are the most recent additions, but I'm thinking about updating the cannons soon..."

She didn't need to update the cannons, but replacing the ones Barry had gotten her with something even more ridiculous and powerful, even bigger and more egregious, just felt like it would be...cathartic.

"I think we've both had...a lot of things happening. But we're here now. On the ship and... wherever here is," Stark said, gesturing at the little blue planet.

"Where is here? And I'm not surprised you helped build it. You're very clever."

Oh no, there was another dopey smile.

"I mean," Summer laughed a little at that, as the small pink spaceship's nose dove down toward the little blue planet and started heading its way, "Hera helped a lot. It was mostly her, actually, credit where credit's due, and Sabine did the amazing paint job, but I picked up enough from both of them to, you know, keep up on maintenance and repairs and shit. And, obviously, a lot of the upgrades since then were..."

Well. She didn't need to say where all the extra bells and whistles came from, did she? Hopefully not, because she definitely couldn't bring herself to say it, and the sober feeling was obnoxiously strong now, and she was now intent on landing this damn thing already so she could fix that.

"And it doesn't have an official name," she offered, a nice, convenient change of subject to the planet they were hurtling through space towards. "Just a designation. BS-146. Mostly uninhabited because its native species is a bunch of soul draining energy blobs, but, this time of year, they're in hibernation, and this part of the galaxy hasn't really caught on to the whole benefits of seasonal tourism thing yet."

"I never met Hera. She was gone before I came back," Stark told her.

He glanced over at her, frowning just a little when her voice trailed off. He recognized that move.

"I like mostly uninhabited. My favorite bartender might be the only one here. Soul-draining blobs I don't like. You're sure they're hibernating?"

He had his gun of a perfectly respectable size with him, at least.

"Positive," Summer assured Stark, and, unable to help herself, especially as she was accelerating even more for another atmo breach, and she let that rush help her shove aside everything else and focus on the task and the goals at hand, added, "And they hibernate like the dead. A person," or couple of persons, even!, "could be as loud as they wanted, and they'd barely even twitch."

"Were you planning on being loud?" Stark asked, grinning.

Or maybe she was planning on Stark being loud.

"Playing loud music?" he asked, very innocently. "Firing a cannon?"

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