They're across from each other at a little round table, just looking back and forth in the lull of conversation -
- it's nice. It's not often Michaela can just be quiet with someone.
She smiles a little and stirs her drink with her straw, watching as Laurel frowns, brow creasing. She thinks maybe Laurel thinks she's upset, after her abrupt shooting down of the whole hero shtick, but she knows that's just Laurel - in fact, if the woman had turned around and told her to go out and save the world, she'd probably be feeling her head for a fever. That's - regrettably - Laurel's gig ( for now ). Michaela understands, she knows that Laurel doesn't want to see her hurt.
Doesn't mean she likes it, but Laurel's argument holds water and she accepts defeat ( for now ).
Anyway, she'd rather not have a shouting match in the middle of this bar.
Maybe at home.
( She still likes the mask. If Laurel isn't going to wear it, it should get some use, right? Right? )
Michaela smiles across the table at Laurel, and Laurel finishes half of the whiskey in front of her before she's interrupted by some asshole in a suit, who's standing far too close for Michaela's taste and clearly has the same feelings on day drinking as Laurel, if his breath is any indication.
"Hey."
Laurel ignores him, and Michaela sips at her drink innocently.
"I said hey."
Laurel looks up at him, sizes him up, and shrugs. "I heard you."
Michaela knows Laurel looks pretty unassuming right now, just a little woman in a blazer and some boots, but looks can be deceiving - and she has a feeling this guy's about to find that out.
"You're Micky, right?"
Wow, how terrific. A fan. Michaela grimaces and shrugs. "I actually go by Michaela, Micky was more of a... stage name? You know?"
Laurel raises an eyebrow like how can you even be tolerating him right now, and she smiles.
Suit guy takes this smile to be for him, bulldozing into, "Well, I think most guys'd be bragging about bagging you, but?"
Michaela doesn't look back, just sips her drink again.
"But?" He prompts again, and she sighs. "But...." she extends, waiting for the punchline.
"But you'd be bragging about bagging me." He tells her proudly, and she mumbles something like 'sure I would.'
"What'd you say, bitch?"
Laurel looks like Michaela feels, and she's apt to let her go at him.
"Nothing."
"Tell me what you said."
"It doesn't matter."
"Hey!" Suit guy is reaching for her, and Laurel bangs on the table, getting his attention.
Michaela is actually fine, thank you very much, but this guy is an asshole, and she's fine letting Laurel show him up.
"Hey, prick." Laurel calls, raising an eyebrow and disposing of her whiskey. "You wanna play a game?"
"Depends." And just like that, Laurel has his attention, and Michaela chuckles softly. "Any stakes?"
"Sure. If I win, you pick up our bar tab, apologize to my friend," here, she nods to Michaela, "and find somewhere else to drink."
Suit guy scoffs. "And when I win?"
Laurel lets a smile overtake her face. "I'll take you out back and meet that bald-headed bishop of yours."
"Okay."
As suit guy wanders toward the games, Michaela arches an eyebrow at Laurel, but it turns into a shrug of sorry. Laurel's face twists into a grimace, and she taps Michaela lightly on the shoulder as she passes by. "No worries," she mutters, "I was having a slow day anyway."
Laurel folds her arms and leans against the door beside the games, sizing up suit guy before she says, "I'm not really feeling the love tester right now." Michaela chokes a laugh on her drink. "How about the strength tester instead?"
Suit guy is more than happy to oblige, scoring a whopping five hundred and twenty three points and celebrating with a lot of shouting and high fives. Michaela thinks he might chug an entire beer while Laurel is wandering to the strength tester. She shoots Laurel a grin, and Laurel returns a little smirk, hands still shoved in her pockets.
She's so nonchalant about the entire affair that Michaela almost forgets that she's going to win no matter what. Damn superhero.
"This looks so hard." Laurel hums, and suit guy doesn't seem to pick up her mocking intone. He goes with, "Yeah, not yet. But I'm sure you could get me there," which, classy. Michaela shakes her head and spins her straw around in her drink while Laurel circles the machine like prey. She's staring down at the glass and almost misses the actual grin Laurel sends her, which, what? Michaela bites her lip and shakes her head, bringing up her eyes to watch the entire scene play out.
Laurel returns the balloon to it's proper place and stands before it, eyeing it for a moment before she jabs it with a smooth punch.
Michaela tamps down on a grin, looking down at the table. The screen on the machine reads nine hundred and ninety nine points, and Laurel turns on her heel to face suit guy.
He's fidgeting and looks a little like he might vomit as he mumbles, "Sorry."
Laurel's gained the attention of more than a few grinning waitresses - if Michaela had to venture a guess, she would assume they're not too fond of suit guy either.
"I didn't hear you, asshole." Laurel says, raising an eyebrow and lifting her chin. Michaela rolls her eyes a little, turning back to their table.
"Sorry!"
Laurel nods and heads back to Michaela, slipping onto her stool with a small smile.
"You enjoyed that too much."
"Did I?"