She tried not to dwell on the fact that he had obviously hesitated when speaking, possibly about to use some vulgar word, but didn't. Was it her fault that things were already getting a little stiff? Because she had to start getting a little more aware of his presence? Alcohol was not her best friend, especially not when she was supposed to be behaving herself. She always started overthinking things when drinking, over-analyze and over-everything. And despite every single working brain cell yelling out at her to withdraw and go home to a warm bed - Missy found herself nodding to his suggestion. Because getting hammered with Brannigan was such a great fucking idea! Getting hammered<b> by</b>him sounded better though...<i>Nope. Not going there. </i><br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#9999ff">"Of course I don't have anything else to do. I literally have no life outside of work. You of all people should know that by now. And considering the fact that you just murdered my buzz earlier, you owe me a few shots. I don't want to see straight when I go home, got it?" </span><br/><br/>The playful words left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth as she lightly punched him in the shoulder. Just<b> saying</b>this almost felt like she was cheating... but just a little bit. A hint of cheating if one would<b>have to</b>label it anything. Hell, she deserved drinks and some fun after all the work she'd been taking on for the past few months. They‘d barely seen the outside of the station as of late and so it wasn't all that strange if they‘d grow a bit closer during that period of time. So the two of them, the two friends... partners... and maybe something a tiny bit more, ventured towards the bar that Brannigan knew of.<br/><br/><b>-----</b><br/><br/>The place was, as described accurately by Brannigan, very calm. But it was nice not having to yell at the top of her lungs to be able to catch his attention. Not full five minutes had passed since they‘d strolled in there and casually nodded at a few familiar faces, before the two had made home at the bar and were downing shots. True to her word, Missy 'allowed' Eric to buy the first three rounds, before she started taking some responsibility as well. It wasn't fair having his wallet bleeding too much. Flashing her credit card at the bartender, she then nickered towards a particularly good looking tequila bottle, not listening the least bit to any type of protesting (if there‘d be any) from her partner. Whenever she got a little tipsy (or wasted) it seemed like tequila started to lure her in, promising a sweet buzz she could regret later.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#9999ff">"To work! To all the assholes that keep slowing us down and acting like asshats every single bloody day!"</span><br/><br/>She lifted the shot glass high up in the air, before downing the liquid with a shudder. It burned all the way down to her toes, but it was a damn nice burn. At this point in the drinking, she was beyond using some elementary shit like slices of lemons and salt to nullify the taste of the tequila. Beckoning for another one, she made sure Eric would down his as well, before having his glass filled up to the brim.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#9999ff">"Oh and let‘s not forget to toast to our loooovely captain. May she trip on those fancy fucking heels of hers and break her pretty neck."</span><br/><br/>Missy‘s eyes twinkled with mirth at Eric, before she gulped down the poison. Her mind was comfortably light, her movements albeit a little bit clumsier than normally. But there was no worry any longer. No fucks to be given. But as usually, after she had consumed a certain amount of alcohol, her emotions got a little heightened... or to be precise; her temper could spike up without any warning. Slamming the shot glass down again, she turned to face Eric, resting her elbow on the bar counter and leaning her cheek against her open palm. Her eyes seemed to be slightly unfocused, but she was far from being a 'goner'.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#9999ff">"Y‘know what? Back in the day, I wanted to be an air stewardess. Can you imagine that? I wanted to explore the world and have fun. Pah! How naive. The world is all the same no matter where you go. Unsolved crime cases scattered around. Assholes running from justice. Bitch bosses breathing down your neck no matter where you go!"</span><br/><br/>Her voice was gradually rising in volume, causing a few of the other people in there to raise their heads. They were mostly old schoolers though, and a good 80% were retired cops, so they could sort of understand the energetic young thing that was ranting on.<br/><br/><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#9999ff">"What about you? I don‘t think you've ever told me anything about your dreams and goals. What did little Brannigan dream of when he was a teen?"</span>