intheheart (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
intheheart) wrote2012-01-27 03:25 pm
intheheart) wrote2012-01-27 03:25 pm
Night Out
Title: Night Out
Co-Author: Nikki
Rating: R
Summary: Danny and Angie celebrate DADT getting repealed.
Date: December 18, 2010
AU: Phase Crossover
Notes: Angie and Rayne belong to Nikki.
WARNING for homophobia and a bar fight.
Unable to stop grinning like a fool, Angie scrambled to find her cell phone in the mess that was her man cave. (If a shoebox sized spare bedroom can be called that.) Somewhere in the other room, Rayne was talking about throwing a party to celebrate, and asking how many people from her old battalion she thought would attend, but Angie was a bit more focused on other things. She could throw a party later. First things first for now, which obviously meant going to a bar. Finally, she found the damn phone under a pile of game cases, and flipped it open. "Call Fishhead."
The phone rang for less than a second before Danny Sierbenski picked up. "Dumb as bricks!" she said, cheerfully. "What a pleasure to hear from you. Talk to me."
Any retort that would have usually come with the bricks comment was passed up. For now. More important things were at hand. "DUDE, GUESS WHAT."
There was a moment of silence. "You got a pony?"
"...What the fucking fuck would I want a fucking pony for?" Angie asked, before she tried to get back on topic. "No, this is so much better than a pony. This is better than Christmas and birthdays and X-Box and - anything ever, okay."
"Ponies are awesome," Danny said. "They are only slightly less awesome than pterodactyls and way more awesome than X-Box. So what's this thing that has occurred that's so fucking awesome it's more awesome than a pony?"
It was so hard to not answer sarcastically. (Heh. Hard.) Pushing down more than a few snarky replies, Angie managed to answer somewhat seriously. "Fucking DADT got fucking repealed, and that beats out a goddamn pony any fucking day of the week!"
"Fuck," Danny breathed, and then, louder, "Holy fucking shit! Are you sure? I mean really fucking sure? That's awesome! Fuck me!"
"I KNOW!" Angie answered, sounding just like a kid on Christmas morning. Then, there was a silence. "...Dude, you look just like my fucking sister, don't say shit like that around me. It's gross."
"Yeah, well, I'm not your fucking sister, so I'm going to say shit like that as much as I want," Danny said, serenely. "Goddamn. You know we have to go get shitfaced now. To celebrate and all."
"Just what I was calling you for! Rayne is wanting to throw a party and stuff, but this calls for immediate celebration and a party sometime next week does not count as immediate. I need whiskey and smoke, and maybe a barfight or two."
"I am not starting a barfight for you," Danny said, but it sounded reluctant. "I can do the whiskey and the smoke, though. The band played in this fucking awesome little bar last night. Bunch of military guys in the crowd, my guys, your guys, the dumbasses in the Army, even a couple of Chair Force. Everybody else thought it was skeevy but I thought it was fun."
Angie scoffed. "Please, like I need anyone else to start something for me. But yeah, that place sounds kickass. Doubt too many people would give a shit about DADT being repealed, but there's bound to be some type of asshole there." Or so she hoped.
"Somebody!" Danny said, happily. "You gonna advertise? I'm gonna see if I can borrow Ivy's Legalize Gay shirt. That should bring out the bastards."
"Fuck yeah I'm going to advertise! I've been saving a 'Faggot' tanktop for an occasion such as this." Making her way out of the man cave/game room/what have you, Angie quickly headed towards the bedroom to pull out the necessary clothes. "Probably just the usual clothes for everything else. Don't want to go too overboard with it, you know?"
"Overboard'll just look like you're a civvie trying too hard," Danny agreed. "Bring your dog tags. I'm gonna wear mine, and my boots. Ooh, can I wear a Fag Hag shirt, or will that damage your ~delicate sensibilities~?"
Angie could hear the tildes falling into place. "When the fuck has anything about me ever seemed delicate?" Angie asked, pausing as Rayne stepped into the room. "Uh. Hold on," she muttered, before pulling the phone away from her ear for a moment. "Yeah, babe?"
Hands on her hips, Rayne rolled her eyes before reaching out to snatch the phone away and place it to her ear. "Danny?"
"Oh, hi, Rayne," Danny said, immediately adopting her most innocent tones. "What's up? Did you hear about DADT getting repealed?"
"Yes. Angie took it upon herself to show up at a party that I was invited to, and kiss me in front of all the guests. It was quite a moment." Rayne dryly replied, though a smile was twitching at the corners or her mouth. (Though Danny couldn't see or hear it, Angie was rolling her eyes and muttering something about how it was a totally romantic and kickass thing to do.) "I trust you'll be coming to the party we're throwing to celebrate?"
"Sure," Danny said, grinning at nothing in particular, because she may not have been able to hear Angie, but she could make a pretty good guess at her thought process. "Be happy to. Mind if I invite Ivy too? She's pretty over the moon about this."
"Invite as many people as you want! The more the merrier. For now, I'm assuming that Angie has more direct ideas, for when it comes to celebrating. Could you try and keep her out of jail for me, please?"
"Babe, I'm not going to end up in jail!" That was definitely loud enough for Danny to hear.
"We won't get arrested," Danny said, still determinedly innocent. "Whatever would make you think we'd be doing anything that might get us arrested?" She then ruined the innocent impression by adding, "I'd bail her out, anyway."
Rayne laughed before she answered. "That's very good to know. Have fun!" Silently, she handed the phone back to Angie, who was faking a scowl.
"Fun chat?" she asked, once the phone was back in her possession.
"Exuberant," Danny said, dryly. "Are we going out now or what? I found my fag hag shirt so I'm gonna wear it."
"Of course we're fucking going out. What, you'd think I'd change my plans because my woman doesn't trust me?" Angie would totally change her plans if Rayne didn't trust her actually, but whatever. "Wear that, I'll still with plain faggot. Should cause a stir with someone."
"Fuck off," Danny said, amiably. "Of course you'd stay in if Rayne didn't want you to go. You are fuckin' whipped, my friend. Fag hag shirt it is. You wanna come here or meet at the bar or what?"
"Whipped and so many other things you wouldn't want to know about," Angie can't help but mischievously purr, cackling immediately after the words leave her mouth. "I'll meet you at the bar. Order me a drink if get there before me, huh?"
"Bitch, you better spill some details," Danny said. "What good is being friends if you can't get some really raunchy stories once in a while? I'll get you something with lots of vodka." She hung up, without bothering to say goodbye.
Tossing the phone onto the bed, Angie didn'tstop a feral grin as she starts to get ready. Game on. Ignoring the way Rayne shook her head at her choice of ensemble (like Angie couldn't see the corners of her mouth quirk upward, or the smile in her eyes.), Angie quickly gave a promise to mostly stay out of trouble and got a kiss before she left.
And then it was to the bar! Hands folded behind her back as she approached the door, Angie had to keep herself from pretty much skipping into the barroom. She was allowed to be gay and a Marine in public at the same time now! And if anyone tried to rain on her parade, she'd punch them in the face. Pausing as she entered the establishment, her eyes scanned the bar and tables, looking for a familiar face.
"Bricks for brains!" Danny yelled, waving at her from the bar. Her white tank top had FAG HAG spray-painted on it in hot pink, with glitter all over it. "I got you vodka!"
Angie let out a bark of laughter once she saw Danny's shirt, her dog tags clinking over the stylized FAGGOT on her own shirt. "Wonderful choice, Fishhead! Though I'm surprised you didn't drink it while waiting for me to get here." Sauntering up to the bar to hop into a seat next to Danny, Angie grabbed the drink and tossed it back in one go. "Guess the next round is on me."
"I don't drink vodka, dumbass," Danny said, in blatant contradiction of the facts. "I drink whiskey. It's a good Scottish drink." She tossed her own back, then slammed the glass down on the table and gave the bartender a feral grin. "Next round's on Bricks here!"
Angie snorted at Danny's response, leaning back in her chair. It was all she could do to not make herself fully at home and plunk her boots up on the bar. "Two Johnny Walker Blues. Neat." She ordered with a wave of her hand, eyes already scanning the bar for someone who looked like they might have a problem.
"See the Army idiots at the third table in?" Danny asked, in a low, casual tone. "They gave me the side-eye when I came in. Might give you a decent fight."
Angie threw her head back, laughing harsh and louder than before. "Of course it's a bunch of Army fucks." Grabbing her glass after it was refilled, the whiskey is thrown back as fast as the vodka was, going down a bit smoother. Letting the glass drop back to the counter, she used her foot to push the bar stool around, finding the table Danny was talking about. Smirking, she raised her hand to wiggle her fingers in a wave.
"It's always a bunch of Army fucks," Danny said. "They like 'em big and strong and not too fucking bright in the Army." She tossed a disdainful glance at the group of guys, then downed her whiskey. "So how's your girlfriend?" she asked, raising her voice just enough to carry.
"And you say the Marines have no brains," Angie muttered and turned back to lounge in her chair with a grin, before her voice rose to match Danny's. And maybe rising a little more every time she mentioned something gay. "Oh, you know Rayne. Tell her that her girlfriend can openly serve in the military and she starts talking about throwing a party at that gay club a few streets down from our apartment. It wouldn't surprise me if a bunch of drag queens crash our really gay party."
Danny choked on her drink, and recovered in time to give Angie the evil eye. "Overdoing it a little bit, aren't you?" she hissed, before saying in her carrying voice, "Oh, for sure. It's not a gay party without some drag queens! Tell you what, why don't I bring my gay friend and her gay girlfriend. They'd love to hang out with some gay people like you and your girlfriend."
Subtlety's name was clearly not Danny, either.
Angie only shot her a grin, watching for reactions in the mirror behind the bar. She wasn't disappointed, and seemed gleeful when the table full of army men started looking at the both of them like they were something foul and unworthy. It wasn't a moment later that Angie caught something that sounded like 'fucking dykes' and she spun around in her seat.
"Is there a problem, gentlemen?"
There was a pause before what Angie assumed was the dumbest of the lot spoke up. "Our problem is that we don't want to hear you talking about that disgusting shit where respectable people can hear it."
"What? Parties?" Angie asked, deliberately obtuse.
The guy's frown deepened, and his face flushed as more than a few people snickered. "Don't act stupid. You know exactly what I'm talking about, girl."
Any amusement in Angie's face immediately disappeared.
"Whoops," Danny commented, to no one in particular. "Nice knowing you, asshole." She leaned back against the bar, cradling her drink against her stomach. Catching and holding the eyes of the dumbest of the group, she pulled a bowl of pretzels over to her side and began eating them, one by one, like popcorn.
It was a moment before a horrible mockery of a grin pulled across Angie's lips. "I ain't your girl," she answered, hopping off of her barstool to walk towards the three men and their table. "And you can kiss my pussy licking, faggoty dyke ass, you pathetic, homophobic, scared imitation of a man."
"In case you haven't noticed," one of them said, breaking eye contact with Danny, "there's three of us, and only one of you."
By this time, Angie's reached the table, and they've all stood to meet her. A quick glance showed their last names as Guyer, Hallberg, and Carr, and Angie's horrible not-grin widened. "Well, then, cupcake," she answered, reaching up to 'fondly' pat Guyer, the 'leader', on the cheek, "get some more guys, and it'll be an even fight."
Angie ducked the first punch and quickly elbowed Carr in the stomach before popping up to catch him square in the jaw. He stumbled back and fell, and Angie quickly turned to catch a fist that was aimed toward her ribs. Twisting Carr's arm, she managed to turn him around completely and push him towards Guyer. They both stumbled with the impact.
"Idiots."
The ensuing fight consumed most of the bar, although only in terms of space. The inhabitants had mostly clustered by the bar and were either observing with mild interest, or, in one particular case, catcalling and offering fake advice. It didn't look like Angie's new punching bags were very popular here, Danny noted, and felt relieved-- much as she was enjoying the show, she didn't particularly want to get involved. Her bar fight days were over.
Mostly.
Whatever.
About then the bartender poked at her sleeve. "Aren't you going to help?" he asked, looking nervous.
Danny gave him a look. "Why the fuck would I help a bunch of homophobic assholes?"
"Not them," he said. "Her. Your friend."
She shrugged. "Nah. She's having fun. Angie always hogs the assholes anyway." And besides, she was taking them down with remarkable efficiency. One Marine versus three drunken Army idiots in a small enclosed space with plenty of things to throw was turning out to not be a very difficult fight.
"Okay," the bartender said. "You should know that I had to call the cops, though. Rules."
"Fair enough," Danny said, and put her drink on the bar. "Hey, brickhead! Wrap it up, the fuzz is coming!"
"Christ, can't a girl go out to bars and have fun anymore," Angie grouched, bringing her knee up to very unkindly introduce it to one of the Army man's faces. She kicked him away before observing the damage, grinning when it was very obviously in her favor. Blood stained around her teeth and at the corner of her mouth, and bruising is already starting to appear around her jaw.
Still, her grin is a lot more cheerful now that she had gotten her bar fight.
"Sorry about the damage," she told the bartender, slapping a few bills on the bar to pay for broken glasses and a chair that got caught up in everything. And, of course, for the drinks. "But thanks for the whiskey. Time to go, Fishhead?"
"What, punching some fuckers wasn't fun enough for you?" Danny asked, dropping some money of her own down. "You have to go and get arrested too? I promised, damn it, and I don't want to have to shell out bail." She looked Angie up and down, assessing the damage, and rolled her eyes. "I'm already gonna catch it for letting you mess up your face."
"From who? Rayne?" Angie laughed, throwing an arm over Danny's shoulders and escorting her toward the door. "Please. She loves me all bloody and bruised," Angie told her, eyebrows waggling. "Of course... she usually likes to do that herself, so I'm not sure where this falls into it."
Danny rolled her eyes, and let Angie keep her arm over her shoulders because that way she could pretend that Angie was drunk. In case inconvenient cops asked inconvenient questions. "Too much information, brickhead. Too much information."
Co-Author: Nikki
Rating: R
Summary: Danny and Angie celebrate DADT getting repealed.
Date: December 18, 2010
AU: Phase Crossover
Notes: Angie and Rayne belong to Nikki.
WARNING for homophobia and a bar fight.
Unable to stop grinning like a fool, Angie scrambled to find her cell phone in the mess that was her man cave. (If a shoebox sized spare bedroom can be called that.) Somewhere in the other room, Rayne was talking about throwing a party to celebrate, and asking how many people from her old battalion she thought would attend, but Angie was a bit more focused on other things. She could throw a party later. First things first for now, which obviously meant going to a bar. Finally, she found the damn phone under a pile of game cases, and flipped it open. "Call Fishhead."
The phone rang for less than a second before Danny Sierbenski picked up. "Dumb as bricks!" she said, cheerfully. "What a pleasure to hear from you. Talk to me."
Any retort that would have usually come with the bricks comment was passed up. For now. More important things were at hand. "DUDE, GUESS WHAT."
There was a moment of silence. "You got a pony?"
"...What the fucking fuck would I want a fucking pony for?" Angie asked, before she tried to get back on topic. "No, this is so much better than a pony. This is better than Christmas and birthdays and X-Box and - anything ever, okay."
"Ponies are awesome," Danny said. "They are only slightly less awesome than pterodactyls and way more awesome than X-Box. So what's this thing that has occurred that's so fucking awesome it's more awesome than a pony?"
It was so hard to not answer sarcastically. (Heh. Hard.) Pushing down more than a few snarky replies, Angie managed to answer somewhat seriously. "Fucking DADT got fucking repealed, and that beats out a goddamn pony any fucking day of the week!"
"Fuck," Danny breathed, and then, louder, "Holy fucking shit! Are you sure? I mean really fucking sure? That's awesome! Fuck me!"
"I KNOW!" Angie answered, sounding just like a kid on Christmas morning. Then, there was a silence. "...Dude, you look just like my fucking sister, don't say shit like that around me. It's gross."
"Yeah, well, I'm not your fucking sister, so I'm going to say shit like that as much as I want," Danny said, serenely. "Goddamn. You know we have to go get shitfaced now. To celebrate and all."
"Just what I was calling you for! Rayne is wanting to throw a party and stuff, but this calls for immediate celebration and a party sometime next week does not count as immediate. I need whiskey and smoke, and maybe a barfight or two."
"I am not starting a barfight for you," Danny said, but it sounded reluctant. "I can do the whiskey and the smoke, though. The band played in this fucking awesome little bar last night. Bunch of military guys in the crowd, my guys, your guys, the dumbasses in the Army, even a couple of Chair Force. Everybody else thought it was skeevy but I thought it was fun."
Angie scoffed. "Please, like I need anyone else to start something for me. But yeah, that place sounds kickass. Doubt too many people would give a shit about DADT being repealed, but there's bound to be some type of asshole there." Or so she hoped.
"Somebody!" Danny said, happily. "You gonna advertise? I'm gonna see if I can borrow Ivy's Legalize Gay shirt. That should bring out the bastards."
"Fuck yeah I'm going to advertise! I've been saving a 'Faggot' tanktop for an occasion such as this." Making her way out of the man cave/game room/what have you, Angie quickly headed towards the bedroom to pull out the necessary clothes. "Probably just the usual clothes for everything else. Don't want to go too overboard with it, you know?"
"Overboard'll just look like you're a civvie trying too hard," Danny agreed. "Bring your dog tags. I'm gonna wear mine, and my boots. Ooh, can I wear a Fag Hag shirt, or will that damage your ~delicate sensibilities~?"
Angie could hear the tildes falling into place. "When the fuck has anything about me ever seemed delicate?" Angie asked, pausing as Rayne stepped into the room. "Uh. Hold on," she muttered, before pulling the phone away from her ear for a moment. "Yeah, babe?"
Hands on her hips, Rayne rolled her eyes before reaching out to snatch the phone away and place it to her ear. "Danny?"
"Oh, hi, Rayne," Danny said, immediately adopting her most innocent tones. "What's up? Did you hear about DADT getting repealed?"
"Yes. Angie took it upon herself to show up at a party that I was invited to, and kiss me in front of all the guests. It was quite a moment." Rayne dryly replied, though a smile was twitching at the corners or her mouth. (Though Danny couldn't see or hear it, Angie was rolling her eyes and muttering something about how it was a totally romantic and kickass thing to do.) "I trust you'll be coming to the party we're throwing to celebrate?"
"Sure," Danny said, grinning at nothing in particular, because she may not have been able to hear Angie, but she could make a pretty good guess at her thought process. "Be happy to. Mind if I invite Ivy too? She's pretty over the moon about this."
"Invite as many people as you want! The more the merrier. For now, I'm assuming that Angie has more direct ideas, for when it comes to celebrating. Could you try and keep her out of jail for me, please?"
"Babe, I'm not going to end up in jail!" That was definitely loud enough for Danny to hear.
"We won't get arrested," Danny said, still determinedly innocent. "Whatever would make you think we'd be doing anything that might get us arrested?" She then ruined the innocent impression by adding, "I'd bail her out, anyway."
Rayne laughed before she answered. "That's very good to know. Have fun!" Silently, she handed the phone back to Angie, who was faking a scowl.
"Fun chat?" she asked, once the phone was back in her possession.
"Exuberant," Danny said, dryly. "Are we going out now or what? I found my fag hag shirt so I'm gonna wear it."
"Of course we're fucking going out. What, you'd think I'd change my plans because my woman doesn't trust me?" Angie would totally change her plans if Rayne didn't trust her actually, but whatever. "Wear that, I'll still with plain faggot. Should cause a stir with someone."
"Fuck off," Danny said, amiably. "Of course you'd stay in if Rayne didn't want you to go. You are fuckin' whipped, my friend. Fag hag shirt it is. You wanna come here or meet at the bar or what?"
"Whipped and so many other things you wouldn't want to know about," Angie can't help but mischievously purr, cackling immediately after the words leave her mouth. "I'll meet you at the bar. Order me a drink if get there before me, huh?"
"Bitch, you better spill some details," Danny said. "What good is being friends if you can't get some really raunchy stories once in a while? I'll get you something with lots of vodka." She hung up, without bothering to say goodbye.
Tossing the phone onto the bed, Angie didn'tstop a feral grin as she starts to get ready. Game on. Ignoring the way Rayne shook her head at her choice of ensemble (like Angie couldn't see the corners of her mouth quirk upward, or the smile in her eyes.), Angie quickly gave a promise to mostly stay out of trouble and got a kiss before she left.
And then it was to the bar! Hands folded behind her back as she approached the door, Angie had to keep herself from pretty much skipping into the barroom. She was allowed to be gay and a Marine in public at the same time now! And if anyone tried to rain on her parade, she'd punch them in the face. Pausing as she entered the establishment, her eyes scanned the bar and tables, looking for a familiar face.
"Bricks for brains!" Danny yelled, waving at her from the bar. Her white tank top had FAG HAG spray-painted on it in hot pink, with glitter all over it. "I got you vodka!"
Angie let out a bark of laughter once she saw Danny's shirt, her dog tags clinking over the stylized FAGGOT on her own shirt. "Wonderful choice, Fishhead! Though I'm surprised you didn't drink it while waiting for me to get here." Sauntering up to the bar to hop into a seat next to Danny, Angie grabbed the drink and tossed it back in one go. "Guess the next round is on me."
"I don't drink vodka, dumbass," Danny said, in blatant contradiction of the facts. "I drink whiskey. It's a good Scottish drink." She tossed her own back, then slammed the glass down on the table and gave the bartender a feral grin. "Next round's on Bricks here!"
Angie snorted at Danny's response, leaning back in her chair. It was all she could do to not make herself fully at home and plunk her boots up on the bar. "Two Johnny Walker Blues. Neat." She ordered with a wave of her hand, eyes already scanning the bar for someone who looked like they might have a problem.
"See the Army idiots at the third table in?" Danny asked, in a low, casual tone. "They gave me the side-eye when I came in. Might give you a decent fight."
Angie threw her head back, laughing harsh and louder than before. "Of course it's a bunch of Army fucks." Grabbing her glass after it was refilled, the whiskey is thrown back as fast as the vodka was, going down a bit smoother. Letting the glass drop back to the counter, she used her foot to push the bar stool around, finding the table Danny was talking about. Smirking, she raised her hand to wiggle her fingers in a wave.
"It's always a bunch of Army fucks," Danny said. "They like 'em big and strong and not too fucking bright in the Army." She tossed a disdainful glance at the group of guys, then downed her whiskey. "So how's your girlfriend?" she asked, raising her voice just enough to carry.
"And you say the Marines have no brains," Angie muttered and turned back to lounge in her chair with a grin, before her voice rose to match Danny's. And maybe rising a little more every time she mentioned something gay. "Oh, you know Rayne. Tell her that her girlfriend can openly serve in the military and she starts talking about throwing a party at that gay club a few streets down from our apartment. It wouldn't surprise me if a bunch of drag queens crash our really gay party."
Danny choked on her drink, and recovered in time to give Angie the evil eye. "Overdoing it a little bit, aren't you?" she hissed, before saying in her carrying voice, "Oh, for sure. It's not a gay party without some drag queens! Tell you what, why don't I bring my gay friend and her gay girlfriend. They'd love to hang out with some gay people like you and your girlfriend."
Subtlety's name was clearly not Danny, either.
Angie only shot her a grin, watching for reactions in the mirror behind the bar. She wasn't disappointed, and seemed gleeful when the table full of army men started looking at the both of them like they were something foul and unworthy. It wasn't a moment later that Angie caught something that sounded like 'fucking dykes' and she spun around in her seat.
"Is there a problem, gentlemen?"
There was a pause before what Angie assumed was the dumbest of the lot spoke up. "Our problem is that we don't want to hear you talking about that disgusting shit where respectable people can hear it."
"What? Parties?" Angie asked, deliberately obtuse.
The guy's frown deepened, and his face flushed as more than a few people snickered. "Don't act stupid. You know exactly what I'm talking about, girl."
Any amusement in Angie's face immediately disappeared.
"Whoops," Danny commented, to no one in particular. "Nice knowing you, asshole." She leaned back against the bar, cradling her drink against her stomach. Catching and holding the eyes of the dumbest of the group, she pulled a bowl of pretzels over to her side and began eating them, one by one, like popcorn.
It was a moment before a horrible mockery of a grin pulled across Angie's lips. "I ain't your girl," she answered, hopping off of her barstool to walk towards the three men and their table. "And you can kiss my pussy licking, faggoty dyke ass, you pathetic, homophobic, scared imitation of a man."
"In case you haven't noticed," one of them said, breaking eye contact with Danny, "there's three of us, and only one of you."
By this time, Angie's reached the table, and they've all stood to meet her. A quick glance showed their last names as Guyer, Hallberg, and Carr, and Angie's horrible not-grin widened. "Well, then, cupcake," she answered, reaching up to 'fondly' pat Guyer, the 'leader', on the cheek, "get some more guys, and it'll be an even fight."
Angie ducked the first punch and quickly elbowed Carr in the stomach before popping up to catch him square in the jaw. He stumbled back and fell, and Angie quickly turned to catch a fist that was aimed toward her ribs. Twisting Carr's arm, she managed to turn him around completely and push him towards Guyer. They both stumbled with the impact.
"Idiots."
The ensuing fight consumed most of the bar, although only in terms of space. The inhabitants had mostly clustered by the bar and were either observing with mild interest, or, in one particular case, catcalling and offering fake advice. It didn't look like Angie's new punching bags were very popular here, Danny noted, and felt relieved-- much as she was enjoying the show, she didn't particularly want to get involved. Her bar fight days were over.
Mostly.
Whatever.
About then the bartender poked at her sleeve. "Aren't you going to help?" he asked, looking nervous.
Danny gave him a look. "Why the fuck would I help a bunch of homophobic assholes?"
"Not them," he said. "Her. Your friend."
She shrugged. "Nah. She's having fun. Angie always hogs the assholes anyway." And besides, she was taking them down with remarkable efficiency. One Marine versus three drunken Army idiots in a small enclosed space with plenty of things to throw was turning out to not be a very difficult fight.
"Okay," the bartender said. "You should know that I had to call the cops, though. Rules."
"Fair enough," Danny said, and put her drink on the bar. "Hey, brickhead! Wrap it up, the fuzz is coming!"
"Christ, can't a girl go out to bars and have fun anymore," Angie grouched, bringing her knee up to very unkindly introduce it to one of the Army man's faces. She kicked him away before observing the damage, grinning when it was very obviously in her favor. Blood stained around her teeth and at the corner of her mouth, and bruising is already starting to appear around her jaw.
Still, her grin is a lot more cheerful now that she had gotten her bar fight.
"Sorry about the damage," she told the bartender, slapping a few bills on the bar to pay for broken glasses and a chair that got caught up in everything. And, of course, for the drinks. "But thanks for the whiskey. Time to go, Fishhead?"
"What, punching some fuckers wasn't fun enough for you?" Danny asked, dropping some money of her own down. "You have to go and get arrested too? I promised, damn it, and I don't want to have to shell out bail." She looked Angie up and down, assessing the damage, and rolled her eyes. "I'm already gonna catch it for letting you mess up your face."
"From who? Rayne?" Angie laughed, throwing an arm over Danny's shoulders and escorting her toward the door. "Please. She loves me all bloody and bruised," Angie told her, eyebrows waggling. "Of course... she usually likes to do that herself, so I'm not sure where this falls into it."
Danny rolled her eyes, and let Angie keep her arm over her shoulders because that way she could pretend that Angie was drunk. In case inconvenient cops asked inconvenient questions. "Too much information, brickhead. Too much information."