<span style="font-style: italic">Don't forget the lemons for table four... probably should go check on the chicken strips for table eight... oh, jeeze... Look at this, that's going to take forever to clean up tonight...</span><br/><br/>The smiling face and bright eyes of the short, blonde, perky bar maid gave no indication of her mental complaints as she wove her way through the tables in the bar. Her ponytail bounced slightly as she stepped around a pair of drunken barbarians arm wrestling at a table and wove her way through the crowd that had gathered to watch.<br/><br/>As she finally pushed clear of the crowd, one hand spread under the small round tray she carried, the other  hand holding the bottle on the tray to keep it from tipping, she glanced back warily, still walking toward the table in the corner. She never liked it when a crowd gathered like this. It was never good news.<br/><br/>Just as she pulled her gaze forward again, a tall figure clad all in plaid, stepped into her path. He wasn't watching where he was going any more than she had been. She had just enough time to give a startled gasp as she tired to stop in time... and failed. The bottle and glasses all fell from her tray, shattering on the wood floor, splashing wine all over the jeans of the man she'd bumped into.<br/><br/>"Woah, there..." he chuckled, catching the tray before it could fall to the floor with the glasses, and reaching with his other hand to steady her with a gentle grip around her arm, "Easy does it. What's the hurry, little lady?"<br/><br/>"Oh! I'm so sorry!" She talked right over him, blabbing rapidly in her agitation, "I wasn't watching where I was going! Look at your jeans! I'm so sorry! I'll just go an get a cloth for that."<br/><br/>Another chuckle, that deep, resonating voice almost penetrating through her nerves, "No need, ma'am. A bit of pink will mix with the mud they're already coated with. No harm done."<br/><br/>She exhaled, trying to calm her voice. A good bar maid never let the pressure of her job show... but that wasn't always easy. "Then how about a beer?" She smiled, turning to wave a hand at the bar tender to get his attention, "Toss me the cone, Carl?"<br/><br/>The bar-tender nodded in response and ducked behind the bar, then handed something to another young guy wearing an apron. The young man carried both the broom and the caution cone toward the bar maid and the man to find her laughing at something he'd said. Quirking an eyebrow, he bent to begin sweeping up the glass shards with expert control. Though his eyes remained on his work, he listenned curiously to the conversation.<br/><br/>"I'm sorry... I really have to go and fill that order. Again, I'm sorry about that. Let me know if you need anything, alright?" fighting to restore her face to the calm, polite smile she always wore, she  turned to weave her way through the milling bodies and fetch another bottle of wine. Her smile was brighter than normal, her eyes sparkling as took a place behind the bar.<br/><br/>Two glasses and another bottle were placed on her tray with expert speed and she hurried to the corner of the room, this time circumnavigating the cluster of bodies. As she walked, she couldn't resist glancing around the room, searching for plaid. There was no sign of him, so she returned her attention to the customer who was still waiting for her.<br/><br/>There he was... the lone figure, still sitting in the deep shadows in the corner booth. Somehow, the light in that corner always seemed to burn out, and their maintenance man could never figure out why. This corner was always dark. The man was obscured by shadows, sitting quiet and still, facing the room. There was something about him that was intense and watchful, making her nervous. She placed the bottle and a glass before him, then poured out his first glass. She smiled happily, looking up as she set the bottle down to look at him.<br/><br/>"Anything else?" Her tone, as always, completely hid her rising nerves.<br/><br/>"The second glass." Was all he said, in a soft, deep tone.<br/><br/>"Right," She forced a chuckle, "Sorry about that. Will someone be joining you? I can have the girl at the front watch for..." He was shaking his head, so she trailed off.<br/><br/>"No, its just me. Leave the glass, please." he gestured toward the glass she still held, and she set it down.<br/><br/>"No problem. Let me know if you need anything else, alright?" She smiled warmly and stuck the empty tray under her arm.<br/><br/>When he simply nodded, she turned and hurried back behind the bar.<br/>Carl, the bartender, slid a couple drinks to her as he glanced over her shoulder toward the corner, "What's the other glass for? He's been here for over an hour...doesn't look like anyone else is coming."<br/><br/>"I don't know... he's a wierd one. But there are worse things. Who are these for?"<br/><br/>"Thirteen... they'll likely want something else to complain about. College kids. Never happy." Carl grumbled, and picked up another glass, turning to fill it from a bottle on the display behind him.<br/><br/>Picking up the glasses, the bar maid hurried off to continue the endless parade of drinks, struggling to keep her thoughts from returning to the odd figure in the corner, and the plaid-clad man. Distracted as she was, she never noticed the eyes of the bus boy, who had carried the broom and dust pan back to the kitchen and returned with a mop to clean up the spilled wine. As he worked, he never took his attention from her, watching her with a constant, intense gaze.