Laughing, Danny pushed the door to the busier bar open and stepped inside, holding it open for Steve. Because, you know, courtesy was still a thing no matter where you lived.<br/><br/>Laughter and jokes flew about the patrons both milling around the bar and even amongst the staff, the occasional clatter of snooker balls being struck. It almost felt like a home from home.<br/><br/><em>Almost…</em><br/><br/><strong>”Danny!”</strong>The tall manager with a mop of brown hair greeted cheerfully above the customers.<strong>”Haven’t seen you got a while. Still working for Mike?”</strong><br/><br/>“I’ll only leave when the guy closes the place for good.” The blonde man replied. Truth be told, this new manager had been trying to get Danny to work for him for the past two months or so.<br/><br/>The brown-haired manager didn’t say anything in return - they both knew already - but instead offered that same genuine smile as he looked between Danny and the man accompanying him.<br/><br/><strong>”Who’s your handsome friend? And… What can I get you guys?”</strong><br/><br/>“Mm… Whatever whiskey ya recommend. Double.” Danny answered, but very glad that things were going okay, casting his own small smile at Steve. “What’s ya poison?”