Robbie was in his.. well, second usual place, he'd guess.. and it wasn't at home where he really wanted to be. It was at work still, but behind the bar instead of with a dishpan in his grasp, picking up plates and glasses. He took a glass out of the dishwater and wrapped a damp cloth around it to begin drying it. He still had about ten or so more to go, but it was preferred to being out there. Dusty, the usual bartender, was out sick with something-or-other, and he was the only backup - thank God. He smiled slightly at Chenelle, who was doing a little dance to the Irish tune that was playing over the speakers just to keep the patrons entertained. She was adorable, but nowhere near his type. He liked women, don't get him wrong, but so did she.. and she'd made that abundantly clear to all staff who so much as batted an eye at her. He playfully flirted with her still, but they remained on a brother and sister level at it's core, and he was cool with that. He could talk to her about anything, and she could do the same to him. When they both had issues falling asleep, texts back and forth for hours were the norm, and they were about anything and everything that would come to mind. He would seriously be heartbroken if anything happened to her, and he knew she felt the same. They had an odd but loving and strong bond.

She came sashaying behind the bar, putting her tray down beside him. Gently putting her slender hand on his shoulder, she leaned in towards him, whispering. "Did you hear all about the new chick running for mayor?" He grinned. "No, why? D'ya think she's hot or somet'in?" His Irish accent always seemed thicker at work, even though it really wasn't. "No, ya dork.. well.." she paused. "Ok, yeah, but that's not what I was talking about. She out and said she's a friggin mutant! What's this now, XMen live action or somethin?" He blinked a few times in succession. She said what, now? Surely he'd heard wrong. "Sorry, she's a wha?" "A.. mu..tant!" she replied, slowly, as if he were an idiot. "Someone who has abilities nobody else has.. something other people usually find unnatural." "I - I know what a mutant is," he explained, "I jus' thought I heard ya wrong." "Well ya didn't. New mayoral candidate is a bleedin' mutant." The way she said it gave him pause. "D - do you have a thing against mutants.. if they exist?" She looked at him pointedly. "Hon, the entire damn city could be mutants, and we'd not know it cause we're all flippin' weirdos. Course not." "Oh.. yeah, that's true, I guess." She moved on to the back of the house, or the food prep area, as he continued cleaning the glasses.

He could see and speak to the dead.. did that make him a mutant, too, or was he still normal? Did his family suddenly have a leg to stand on as far as calling him and his grams crazy went? He didn't have long to kick around these thoughts as someone made thier way into the place. An attractive someone. An attractive male someone. He greeted him with his brightest but warmest smile; the one that made his olive green eyes light up, even in the dimmest of lightings. Or so he was told. "What would you recommend?" came the request from the blonde, and immediately a ton of ideas popped into his head, and none of them professional. He chose the safest route for now. "Well Guinness is always a crowd favorite.. as is whiskey. If you really want something that'll wake ya up though.." He leaned forward, as if imparting a secret, which he kinda was. "..we have some Poitin in the back." He straightened up and idly continued to dry the glass he held. "Doesn't sound like much, but it's actually illegal in Ireland. Known as Irish Moonshine. They used-ta put it under the nose of those they t'ought were dead to see if they'd wake up," he finished, grinning amusedly.

704 words; that last bit is actually true!

He smiled brightly and laughed a bit. "Nah, not at all. My family is Irish by blood. In fact, my ancestor, Alejandro O'Reilly, founded this area back in the eighteen-hundreds, so we go way back," he explained, trying to sound casual about it. He liked being able to claim that, and it was entirely true, but he never boasted about it. He was simply stating fact. "You're not the first to t'ink it, but I don't blame ya for askin'." He slung the towel over his shoulder and took the tray of clean, dry glasses over to the stack where the wait staff grabbed them from to fill orders. Walking back over to where the blonde sat, he leaned forward on the bar, but not far forward enough to be in the guy's personal space.

He found he rather liked the guy's accent, even though he'd heard it everywhere. He made it.. unique.. worth hearing repeatedly. He was now dying to hear him say his name. "Name's Robbie," he said, placing his right hand flat against his chest. He rapped the bartop once with his knuckles. "Let me grab ya that Guiness real quick." Taking a pilsner glass, he moved to the tap that held the beer, pulling the handle and letting go just at the right time to give that perfect bit of foam on top. Picking up a beer comb, he levels off the foam with the top of the glass, and before setting the glass in front of the man, he places a napkin down on the bartop. "Can I get ya anyt'in else?" He was hoping, by the end of the night, to at least get the guy's name, if not a phone number.

He wasn't one for one night stands - usually - but for this one, he'd make an exception.. or ten. This wasn't to say that he couldn't see him as just a friend; he could, but.. to wake up and see that. Oooh, Jesus. If his family heard about it, he'd never hear the end of it, but it'd so be worth it.

# words; Will's not the only one that's thirsty apparently XD