At last call, Beck dropped her feet to the floor and pushed out of the chair.  She casually strode to the bar, awaiting the tender's attention.  Her voice was low, casual and melodious as she requested another lager.  As she waited, she turned her green/gray eyes upon the group, studying them with a distant curiosity.<br/><br/>The man with the gloves piqued her interest.  Too bad he didn't know how to order his steak; of course, she didn't have to eat the leather on his plate.  It didn't much matter, as far as she was concerned.  As soon as the snow cleared, he and his rag-tag group of weirdos would hie on out of town.<br/><br/><i>Good riddence</i>she thought to herself.<i>They'll be gone and things can go back to bein' peaceful and quiet.</i><br/><br/>She shook her head slightly at the guy with the reuben.  He seemed a little... off.  Of course, the whole group seemed a little off.  For a group like that to be together?  Well, it didn't compute.  They were bad news, and Beck figured it would be best to lay low.<br/><br/>That thought foremost in her mind, she turned her attention back to the bartender and amended her request.  "I'd like that to go, please.  I'll take it on up to my room."<br/><br/>She quirked a brow as the two previously-quiet ladies turned to leave.  "Drunk is as drunk does."<br/><br/>The words were muttered under her breath as they made their way out.  It was a scene she'd heard about far too often, except it usually involved a heterosexual couple, with the man being the beligerant drunk.  She did chuckle a little as one of the weirdos leaned out of the way as if he were afraid of catching whatever the ladies had.<br/><br/><i>It ain't a disease, man.</i>she mentally scolded.<i>'Sides, what if the chicas in your group were battin' for the other side?</i><br/><br/>Beck chuckled to herself at the mental image then shook her head and offered a smile to the bartender.  She brought forth her wallet, again speaking in low, soft tones.<br/><br/>"How much I owe ya?"