<div align="center"><strong>-=’Small Fry’ – Oxhorn Saloon – Avalon=-</strong></div><br/><div class="floatleft">(http://i1122.photobucket.com/albums/l533/KeikoShinju/Cherish%20and%20her%20big%20Gamble/Blued-Eyed-Drew---Red-Top.png)</div><br/>The redhead with the blond roots was surprised at the amount of noise in the sleepy little bar – floorboards creaked, wind whistled around the poorly repaired windows, conversations echoed in the corners. Annabel was doing enough talking for the both of them, Small Fry hardly opened her mouth. Watching the cowpoke toss down her drink, Small Fry touched the short glass with some trepidation, worried about the cost and who would be paying for it, worried that she hadn’t eaten since the afternoon yesterday and what the alcohol might do on her empty stomach, worried that this might be her only meal for a while. Trying to keep up with the multiple inquiries around her, she nursed her drink, wanting to toss it back in a parody of Annabel’s method but deciding to keep her wits about her.<br/><br/>Amid the ambient noise, the raucous laughter and ribald jokes of the Alliance staff nearby, and the odd half-overheard conversation between the couple at the bar, Small Fry’s head swam.<em>So much input!</em>She cringed a little, rolling the warm drink over her tongue. Distracted by too many new things, she didn’t notice the captain’s appearance until his voice growled a question in a tone that made her feel somehow dirty. Tilting her head up to look into his face, she automatically took in the opened bottle in his fist, the rugged unshaved jaw under his sneer, and the increased depth of contour to his jacket on one side.<em>He got paid!</em>Flashing him a grin, she tossed back the last of her drink before firmly slapping the glass upside down on the bar in a gesture of celebration. Not only had he come back to her, he came back when he could afford fuel and food – that was a very good sign.<br/><br/>Genuinely pleased at his invitation (though it would mean more drinking), she rose and moved to his side, letting him settle where he wished. She’d leaned in to whisper a ‘thank you’ for returning or a ‘congratulations’ on getting the job done despite all the problems, but lost her nerve with Annabel’s explanation. She certainly didn’t want the captain to think that she was a trouble hound, that she was loose or whorish, that he could do better than taking her with him. She’d already decided that the Gamble was her home…<em>and wasn’t that a surprise! Why in the wide colorful worlds would she want to truck around on that rusty duck?</em>– because she felt safe there. – because she had no where else to go. – because she loved the engine noise, and the thrum of the heating system kicking on, and the way condensation stuck to the walls when she showered overlong, and the rattle of the causeway overhead when someone traipsed across it while she stood below in the cargo bay, and the grind of the disposal unit as it destroyed her nasty jumpsuit and smelly socks, and the heft of the fire extinguisher… letting her feel like she’d once protected someone other than herself.<br/><br/>She wanted to go home and that meant convincing this man to take her aboard his ship. Before she could enact a plan to achieve this end, another voice cut through her thoughts. The brunette pulling away from her male counterpart was addressing the captain in a familiar tone. She also had an arm subtly poised near her side, hiding something. Small Fry could not determine what it was but moved to place herself between the two, pretending to have done so without notice, inspecting Griff’s bottle. Surely the bartender was going to have a fit if he saw Griff starting to sell or give away his own liquor while inside the Oxhorn.<em>Guai</em>, she still owed the bar for TWO drinks, it seemed, glancing about to see Annabel near the door with a small woman of Asian descent…<em>the famous Doc maybe?</em><br/><br/>*****<br/><br/>“<em>Guai</em>” - Hell.<br/>