The New Girl

[GINA FAYE]

Gina was new to this town. Sure, she should have felt like she belonged, but she didn't grow up in Scriptor Bay like her nana and her mama. They were the ones who could really make her feel like she belonged, but nana was sick and mama was dead. Gina just had to make friends on her own, just like she did in New York City. She missed the hustle and bustle of the big city. The silence here at night was so deafening, Gina was forced to run a fan all night so she could sleep. It would be a challenge getting used to small town life again, but she knew she would manage it. She was here for nana, mostly, but it would do Gina some good to try and fit in to the one place where she knew there were others like her.

Turning into a fox hadn't come as a surprise to Gina because she had her mama and her nana. Her family had a tendency for shifting into feral dogs, so she was sure she wouldn't be very different. She didn't realize until she got a little older how appropriate turning into a vixen was. Gina was a maneater, a fox in true form. The Japanese had legends about fox spirits who would become beautiful men and women to entrap victims to mate with. Kitsune, they were called. Well, this kitsune was on the prowl tonight.

Gina had felt lonely in the past few days she had spent in Scriptor Bay. It's not that the people weren't friendly, but damned if she hadn't met many hot guys. She needed to make friends. She had wandered around the town looking for a place to hang out, and in the daylight she had seen a bar called the Jack Kit. It looked aged and worn, but in a pleasant, warm sort of way. She had decided then and there she would check it out when she could. She didn't mind adventuring on her own, and having a drink by herself at a bar always ended up getting her a companion, at least for the night. Monday she would be starting at the precinct, so she figured a little fun on a Friday night would do her some good before she got down to business.

So there she was, sitting alone at the end of the bar. She had just sat down and hadn't even ordered a drink yet, when she looked up and noticed the sexy bartender. Discreetly, she checked him out, liking what she saw. He was fit with pretty hazel eyes and an almost stern look about him. She had to hide her smile, looking into her purse for her phone. She would wait until he noticed her.

[KIT RATHBONE]

He didn't know if it was just because the temperature was starting to pick up or because daylight stayed around later, but the Jack Kit had been picking up in business. Of course normally that would be a good thing, but Kit sort of hated it. It meant he had to help out more around the bar, he had to do more ordering, and of course somebody had to balance the books! He was an idiot when it came to balancing the books and a part of him wanted to ask Jo to come by and help him out with it but he had a feeling she wouldn't want to talk to him anytime in the near future.

Then of course there was the dilemma with that girl. Kit didn't know what to do about that situation but right now he was trying to just push it to the back of his mind. He had a bar to run and thinking about what to do about her wasn't going to do him any good right now, was it?

Kit had been cleaning out one of the wet glasses that he'd just washed when he drifted into his own head. By the time he finally set it down it had been more than dry. That's when he noticed there was someone new seated at the bar and his eyes shifted in her direction. That's when he put Hadley and their dilemma to the back of his mind and made his way over to where she was seated, still behind the bar. He propped his hands up on the counter and leaned in a bit the way he did most of the time with patrons who were in need of a drink. It made him seem friendlier than he was and if the customer thought that they could call him a 'friend' even just for the night then they usually wasted more money there instead of going to a place that was more stuffy, like the Blue Scallop.

"What are you having tonight, blondie?" Kit couldn't just ask someone to pick their poison unless he said some sort of lame nickname at the end of the question. It was just one of those quirks about him that he'd had all of his life. He couldn't even remember where he picked it up. It wasn't as if there were any family to speak of that he could see if it was one of those things that he'd inherited. Like goldilocks over here with her blonde hair.

[GINA FAYE]

Gina's eyes lifted to his when the bartender came over and propped his hands on the counter. He leaned in a little and she smiled. "What are you having tonight, blondie?" Gina stared at him for a second when he called her "blondie." Then she stifled a laugh behind her hand before looking back up at him. "Blondie? Is that the best nickname you could come up with?" she teased in her Georgian accent. With a laugh, she rested her elbow on the counter, stopping her fiddling in her purse. She didn't sound mean when she said it, so she hoped he wouldn't take it as a mean joke. She was just picking on him a little. "I guess I'll let it slide this time, though," she drawled with a flirty smile. He really was quite scrumptious.

"Can I get a rum and Coke, please?" she requested with a sweet smile. When he walked away, she watched his backside for a second before he could notice she was checking him out. The man had a body made for sin, that was for damn sure. Once more, she went to digging in her purse, legitimately trying to find her phone this time. She was afraid she left it at her apartment, but she finally dug it out with a triumphant smile. Tapping the screen, she made sure she didn't have any messages. Her nana wasn't the best at texting, but she had figured it out well enough to send her "911" if it was an emergency. Thankfully, there was nothing there. Her nana was the only reason her phone was permanently attached to her anymore. It wasn't like she had many contacts in Scriptor Bay, anyway.

When the bartender came back with her drink, she smiled wide. "Thank you!" she said, pulling it closer to her so he wouldn't have to reach all the way across the bar. Her fingers brushed against his as she took the glass from him, though she made it seem like she didn't notice and it wasn't intentional. Her crystalline eyes came back to his and she gave a pleasant smile. "So what's your name? I'd feel weird just callin' out, 'Hey you,' every time I needed a drink. And I wouldn't want to call you something equally as lame as, 'blondie,' like, 'Cowboy," she teased with a grin. Really, she couldn't help herself around attractive men. She had to tease. And honestly she knew she could get away with just about anything with how pretty she was. Besides, she wasn't really being mean. Just playful. Like a fox playing coy.

[KIT RATHBONE]

Rum and coke. Not a bad drink in his opinion. At least it wasn't a cranberry and vodka. He hated when women came in requesting that as a drink. Because no matter who the person was they always complained that it was either too watered down or too strong. Apparently there was no right way to make a cranberry and vodka. 'The other guy made it for me last time and it was perfect, why can't you get it right?' The funny thing? He was the 'other guy'. He always got stuck making those crappy drinks. And he'd even tried one once and it was awful. What sane person liked cranberry juice?

"Rum and coke it is." He told her and went to making the drink for the girl. He used the soda nozzle, hitting the button that would make sure it was coke coming out and not sprite or any other soda, then he pushed the little trigger that made the soda pour into the glass once the rum was already in it.

When he came back and handed the drink over to the girl, she was clearly still on the little nickname he'd given her. She was also asking for his name and he gave a light little shrug. He didn't want to dismiss her but he didn't want to seem like he was too interested in what she had to say either. Not at first anyway. "Kit. And you'd be surprised how many people come up with 'Cowboy' and think it's original. Not that 'Blondie' was either."

Kit offered the girl a little grin and nodded his head at her. "What about you? You aren't from around these parts. You and where you're from got a name?"

[GINA FAYE]

With his little shrug, Gina knew this guy wouldn't be an easy catch. Strange, usually her good looks could get her any guy she was interested in. Maybe he was gay? He looked much too manly to be gay, but it wouldn't be the first time she had been wrong...Still he introduced himself as Kit, which made her stifle a laugh. How appropriate. A kit was a baby fox. Funny that a fox like her would meet a man named Kit. He wouldn't get the joke, though, so she kept her laughter on the inside. She gave a grin at his mentioning the nicknames "Cowboy" and "Blondie." At least he was appeasing her.

"What about you? You aren't from around these parts. You and where you're from got a name?"

Well, that was one little victory. If he was asking her name, he wasn't completely dismissing her. In Gina's mind, she was hard to dismiss, and she didn't take it lightly. "The name's Gina and I'm from a little town called Bloomingdale, Georgia," she drawled in reply. "It's just outside of Savannah." Saying the name almost made her miss her hometown. Almost. Gina found out long ago that she wasn't really suited to small town life. She grew up in a town with about five churches, all on the same street, and all of them the place to be on Sunday. If you weren't in church on Sunday, you were behind on the social gossip for a whole week. Personally, Gina wasn't much for banging a Bible, though it had some nice stories in it.

She took a sip of her drink, noticing immediately how strong it was. "Damn, you tryin' to get me wasted?" she teased, though she liked it. When it came to her drinks, the stronger the better. She rested her chin on her hand, studying him. "You've got a little bit of an accent too. Where're you from, Kit?" she asked. Kit. She liked that name. She took another sip of her drink while she waited for his answer.

[KIT RATHBONE]

The comment about him trying to get her wasted made him snort at her and shake his head. He grabbed one of the bar rags and slung it over his left shoulder so that he'd have it ready for any spills or accidents. Since it was a bar and people came there to relax, sometimes they got a little too comfortable and things broke. He was going to start using mason jars for drinks at the rate some of the assholes who came in were going. He'd had three broken glasses so far that day. And that was a slow day.

"You've got a little bit of an accent too. Where're you from, Kit?"

"Born in Texas. About twenty miles outside of Abernathy." Kit told her, being a little more curt than he meant to be. Being a bartender, it meant you pretty much became everyone's friend when they walked in the door. They wanted someone to talk to and tell their stories to. Only talking about where he was from wasn't really one of those things that he liked to talk about.

"Lived here and there. What brings you all the way to the west coast? They don't have bars in Georgia?" Of course the remark was suppose to be a joke and he even gave her a crooked little smile before he pulled out a shot glass and a bottle of Jack Daniels whiskey, like he usually did when customers first walked in. He always gave them their first shot on the house just as long as it was whiskey.

He poured the dark yellowish brown liquid into the shot glass and pushed it with his fingers across the bar beside the rum and coke she was drinking. "Or did you just hate that southern living?" Sometimes Kit missed Texas. He'd been in a lot of places but the south was its own world in his opinion. He'd headed to Georgia once and he found it nice. Just a little too humid for his taste. It sometimes felt like a damn swamp.

[GINA FAYE]

"Born in Texas. About twenty miles outside of Abernathy."

Gina perked a little when Kit told her this. Well, he was something of a Southerner, too! Actually, Texas was more like an entity all it's own, but it was closer than Scriptor Bay, Oregon to Bloomingdale, Georgia. "So you really are a cowboy," she teased with a smile. She could tell from the way he said it, though, so she didn't press it. Gina wasn't out to make the man uncomfortable; actually, she was out to make him much more comfortable. So when he changed the subject, she didn't mind.

"Lived here and there. What brings you all the way to the west coast? They don't have bars in Georgia?"

The comment itself made her smile, but his cute crooked little smile made her grin wider. She would have answered, but she was momentarily distracted by Kit pulling out a shot glass and a bottle of Jack Daniels. Well, she didn't ask for it, but she'd shoot it for sure. Whiskey was Gina's alcohol of choice; she just didn't usually shoot it on her own unless she'd had a really hard day. And even then it was in the privacy of her home. She didn't know why he was pouring her a shot, though. Maybe it was some incentive to get her to come back to the bar...or buy more alcohol. But she wasn't going to pay for it. He had offered it to her when she didn't ask for it, so it was reasonable that she assume it was a gift.

"Or did you just hate that Southern living?"

"Are you kiddin'?" she replied, giving him a playfully incredulous look. She picked up the shot and motioned to him with a little smirk as if to say, "Cheers," and knocked it back. It burned instantly, but the burn felt so good. She could feel it slip all the way down to her stomach where it warmed her from the inside out. Still, she winced a little as the whiskey burned in her throat, but she soon gave a smile. "I love Southern livin'. All that homemade fried chicken and greens with some fresh brewed sweet tea. And good old Southern hospitality everywhere you go," she reminisced, her cheek rested against her hand. Sitting straight again, she gave a little sigh. "No, it wasn't Southern living that chased me away. Just small town life. I was in New York City for a few years, but my nana got sick. She's from here so we made the move back," she explained matter-of-factly. Gina didn't really mind talking about herself. She was an open book, as long as she found someone curious enough to ask.

Taking another sip of her drink, she smiled cutely at Kit. "Why leave Texas? Didn't you like the barbecue?" she asked playfully. If he declined to answer, she could understand that. Still, she was curious about this cute bartender. And the friendlier she got with him, maybe it would be more likely she wouldn't be lonely again tonight.

[KIT RATHBONE]

"I love Southern livin'. All that homemade fried chicken and greens with some fresh brewed sweet tea. And good old Southern hospitality everywhere you go,"

Kit had to agree that he enjoyed southern living as well for all the same reasons. The south had their own way of doing things and because they were tough as nails nobody messed with them. A little hospitality went a long way in most cases, although he'd had the misfortune to be stuck in the bad areas most of the time where southern hospitality was more something that they just said but didn't do. No, Kit grew up on the bad side of the tracks.

"The south does have the best fried chicken, doesn't it?" He couldn't help but agree and even smiled with a nod of his head. It didn't matter where you lived or where you went in the south their fried chicken was out of this world. And although family dinners seemed to be more on the redneck side as far as having the bench seat of an old Chevy sitting in the front yard to use as a lawnchair went, the food was out of this world. Nobody cooked like the south.

"Why leave Texas? Didn't you like the barbecue?"

He gave her a sarcastic laugh and shook his head. Blondie here was more interesting to talk to than the rest of the drunks in the bar at the moment, and already they had something in common. The fact that she was attractive and even had that flirtatious look about it was a definite bonus. Good thing Gavin wasn't due to work that night or else they might actually find themselves in a brawl.

"Barbecue wasn't the problem. The problem was everyone in Texas owns a gun. In most cases more than one. And if you look at them the wrong way they start shooting. That is why I left Texas, sweet cheeks." He said the last bit teasingly and took the rag that was over his shoulder and began to wipe down the counter from the glass sweat that was pooling around. He also slid the shot glass back towards him and poured another shot for her. "The barbecue was pretty good." He grinned.

He didn't need to give his sob story of an orphaned boy who went from foster home to foster home to eventually living on the streets because nobody wanted him. It sucked, but Kit didn't dwell on it. When he'd reached the age of mutare life got easier. Being a homeless dog was easier than a homeless teenager, and he got more scraps that way.

"So you're a country girl who wants to be a city girl. I get it. And that sucks about your nana, sorry to hear that." People always wanted to open up to their bartender. But in this case he actually didn't mind. He liked listening to what she had to say. He enjoyed the southern drawl that she had on certain words and found it rather cute. Southern girls were always better than city girls in his opinion. They were more open minded and wild.

[GINA FAYE]

Gina giggled a little to see Kit laugh at her joke about barbecue. Honestly, though, she could really go for some barbecue right now. And not just any barbecue; she wanted Texas barbecue. She couldn't help it though; there was a 400 pound child living inside her, and it often screamed to be satisfied. Right now, it wanted some soul food.

"Barbecue wasn't the problem. The problem was everyone in Texas owns a gun. In most cases more than one. And if you look at them the wrong way they start shooting. That is why I left Texas, sweet cheeks."

She laughed loud at his reasoning, nodding her head because it was true. One of her mother's boyfriends when she was growing up was from Texas, and he was quick to pull one or more guns off his hip at any small threat. He disappeared quickly because her mother was afraid Gina would get one in the head just for startling him. But she also grinned at Kit calling her "sweet cheeks." It appeared the lame nicknames would continue. It was kind of cute, though, and she smirked inwardly, thinking about how he had no idea how sweet her cheeks were. He wiped the bar beneath her sweating glass and poured her another shot, which she would take, but still had no intention of paying for. "The barbecue was pretty good." She smiled again, and sighed as she reached for the shot. "I could really go for some barbecue right now. Or some fried chicken," she said wistfully, smiling at him before she shot the whiskey back. Gina made it a point to enjoy herself no matter where she went, but her experience here was exceeding all her expectations. Not only was the bartender cute, he was interesting, and she liked the banter they had going between them.

"So you're a country girl who wants to be a city girl. I get it. And that sucks about your nana, sorry to hear that."

Gina found she actually appreciated the condolences, but she gave a little shrug. "Everybody gets old, it's not like it was a surprise or nothin'. And she's got some kick left in her," she said with a grin. Gina had always felt she was a lot like her nana, minus the wisdom. The young fox was getting there, but she wasn't nearly as wise as her nana was, and probably wouldn't be for years to come. "I don't mind coming to Scriptor Bay. Smaller town life has its perks. But there ain't nothin' like the city. The noise, the dirt, the fast pace. I never felt bored in New York. And the job was always exciting. There was always someone causing trouble," she said with a fond smile, taking a sip of her Coke. Her eyes came back to his and she smiled wider, realizing what she said was somewhat enigmatic. "I'm a cop," she explained simply, but her smile turned a little sly as she leaned her elbows on the bar. "But don't worry. I ain't plannin' on bustin' anybody tonight." Not to say she didn't have her weapon and her NYPD shield on her (she didn't have her SBPD shield yet). Those were tucked safely in the purse on her lap. If she needed to, she wouldn't hesitate to take a trouble-maker down, but she really didn't want to go to the trouble tonight.

[KIT RATHBONE]

"Everybody gets old, it's not like it was a surprise or nothin'. And she's got some kick left in her,"

He had to chuckle at the thought of that. Women from the south were tough as nails and if that was where her nana was from then she'd be a tough old bat. In a way he envied when people talked about their family. Whenever they got college kids in he'd overhear one or two complaining about how their parents threatened to cut them off and make them pay for their own rent. Kit was lucky enough to be able to know how to make drinks. He'd also been lucky to have friends who knew business management and had a little start up money. Otherwise he'd be screwed.

When Regina mentioned that she was a cop his brows raised just a little bit to show that he was both curious and surprised. He didn't peg her as an officer of the law. She didn't seem stiff like she had a stick up her ass the way most cops did when they came in. Not only that but she didn't look butch either.

"Why a cop? Maybe it's just me but you don't look like a cop. You just jerkin' my chain?" He asked her in a teasing tone and then moved away to head down the bar. He had to grab a few of the empty glasses and scoop up the tips that were left. One cheap asshole only left him fifty cents. But Kit knew who it was and the next time he'd come in he'd make sure to double his total.

When he came back over he set the beer mugs into the sink that was behind the bar and turned on the faucet to fill it with water. It would just make it easier than letting them stack up.

"One thing I don't miss about the south is the damn heat." He mumbled it more to himself than anything else. It was beginning to very slowly warm up in Oregon. It rained constantly and because they were so close to the water it kept the climate cool. It sure as hell would be nicer if the air broke out here than it would in the south.

He was enjoying talking to this girl. She made witty little remarks that he found entertaining and they weren't corny in any sort of way. Some women came in and made the lamest cracks and jibes but they just weren't funny and he found himself forcing himself to laugh. His forced laugh definitely sounded different than his usual laugh also. It was loud and almost obnoxious.

Kit reached for one of several stacked bowls off to the side and then a bottle of peanuts that weren't too far from the stack. He uncapped the jar and poured it into the bowl hardly filling it halfway before setting it down on the counter in case she wanted any. "You know we serve food. It's crap but we've got some." He admitted honestly. They served wings and fries but most of their stuff was microwaved, except for the fries that were done in the deep fryer. He'd thrown a twinkie in there once to see what the big hoopla was and he had thought about adding that to their menu. But he hadn't. He didn't feel like buying twinkies at the time they were redoing their menu.

"It's not barbecue but it's edible." He couldn't help but think of how it seemed she really enjoyed food. And maybe if he didn't have himself in a bind he'd offer to have her come by one night and he'd throw something on the grill out back. Sometimes for special holidays he'd fire up the old grill and make burgers and dogs. Nothing went better with barbecue than booze. So it went hand in hand pretty well.

"Or you just going to drink yourself stupid?"

[GINA FAYE]

"Why a cop? Maybe it's just me but you don't look like a cop. You just jerkin' my chain?"

Gina laughed. "Why, because I don't look like the all-star pitcher on an all-girls' softball team? Lady cops are allowed to look like women," she teased. "And it's exciting. I love bustin' criminals. There's nothin' like the adrenaline rush you get from running somebody down or getting them to admit what they've done in an interview and closing a case. It's so satisfyin'." She kept her real reasons to herself. Gina had boundaries enough to know that Kit didn't want to hear how her mother was raped and how she was forced to take care of her until her mother finally committed suicide. That's why she did what she did; so she could get the justice her mother never got. But all of this she kept to herself; no need to be a Debbie Downer. She watched Kit work behind the bar, and she noticed how comfortable he was there. Like he owned the place. Did he own the place? It was called the Jack Kit, after all. She made a note to ask him about that.

"One thing I don't miss about the south is the damn heat."

With a nod, she took a sip of her drink again, noticing it was almost done. And she was starting to feel it too. It was a warmth in her limbs and a light-headed feeling, but not to the point where it was noticeable. It took a lot to get her drunk. "But it was sunny so much of the time. That's one thing I don't like about Oregon. There's too many damn clouds," she said playfully. She leaned her head on her hand with a sigh, remembering home. Though it was quiet, it was home, and she missed it terribly sometimes. Maybe this year she would go back for a visit. She could run along the beaches of Tybee Island as a fox again. The thought made her smile.

When Kit set the peanuts in front of her, Gina was a little surprised. She hadn't expected them, but they were more than welcome. Gina always appreciated food. "You know we serve food. It's crap but we've got some." She gave an amused smile, popping a couple peanuts in her mouth. "It's not barbecue but it's edible." "Oh that sounds divine," she said sarcastically, with a teasing smile on her lips. "Or you just going to drink yourself stupid?" She couldn't help but laugh, but she could see where he was coming from. She had already downed two shots of whiskey and was almost done with her rum and Coke. Really, she hadn't planned to drink even that much tonight. "No, I don't do stupid drunk. There's nothin' sadder than a sloppy drunk, particularly a sloppy drunk woman," she said with a playfully serious shake of her head. Taking a sip of her drink, she realized she was kind of hungry, though.

"It sounds like you've figured out my secret, though," she said with a dramatically heavy sigh. "I've got an inner fat kid. She's 'bout three hundred pounds." A big grin came across her face, indicating she was very far from serious. She grabbed a couple more peanuts, popping them into her mouth as she watched him. Damn, he was cute. "Ya'll got French fries in this joint?"

[KIT RATHBONE]

"No, I don't do stupid drunk. There's nothin' sadder than a sloppy drunk, particularly a sloppy drunk woman,"

Kit couldn't agree with this girl more. Sloppy drunk women were such a turn off and he could think of a few of them that frequented the bar more than he'd like to see. Some people just couldn't hold their liquor and should learn to stop at their limits. "That's good to know." He grinned at her and leaned against the counter for a second before she was asking about the french fries and saying how she had a fat kid in her and he kind of stared at her blankly for a moment.

Most women didn't talk to men about how they had "an inner fat kid" and seemed to be proud of it. Then again her honesty was kind of.. hot? He found it attractive that she was so bluntly honest about how she enjoyed food. Then again that was pretty much all they've talked about so far.

"We have french fries." Kit said with a nod of his head and moved away from her to further down the bar. He had to make sure to refill someone else's glass and then grab a bag of frozen fries from the back. The fryer was already turned on since someone else had ordered chicken fingers a little bit ago so the oil was already hot and ready to go.

The door opened up and Brad, a buff dude who looked like he just stepped out of Jersey Shore with his orange tan and his MONSTER ENERGY DRINK muscle shirt. He looked around before he spotted a hottie sitting by herself at the bar and made a B-line right in her direction and pulled up a bar stool next to her. "Sup?" He asked and did the stupid tipping of his head back nod thing that all those punks did. "How you doin'?"

Kit had seen the douche bag walk in, someone he hadn't seen before. Probably a tourist although he wasn't sure why they'd come there of all places. Oregon was exactly what Regina had called it; cloudy. He definitely didn't get that tan from around there. He dumped the frozen fries into the basket and dipped it into the hot oil. While that was cooking he went ahead and took care of a few other drink orders.

[GINA FAYE]

Gina watched Kit walk away, admiring him for a moment before taking a look around the bar. It was such a...well, a bar. But it was classic, with all the wood and the air a little smokey, the smell of beer probably filling every corner. It was warm, but not hot, and so comfortable. Kit fit in here perfectly. Gina had grown used to the lounges of New York, mostly upscale and somewhat snooty. But now, looking around this place, she felt she was coming back to herself. She had never been a city girl, as much as she had wanted to be one when she was younger. She was too proud of her down South raising to ever call herself a city girl. Being in the Jack Kit now, she was glad she hung on to the country, and even gritty, side of her. She didn't belong in the high class lounges of New York; she belonged in cheap bars like this, and she was suddenly proud of it. The thought made her smile to herself.

A presence next to her made her look to her right suddenly, finding a ridiculously tanned and muscled man sitting next to her. She almost said, "Ew," when she looked at him, but she held back her derogatory statement. Gina loved men. She loved men of every color...except orange. This guy was orange. Just the sight of him irritated her. She was a firm believer in the natural man. The most product she liked to see on a man was some gel to keep his hair perfectly mussed. She liked scruffiness in a man, a natural tan, muscles well-defined, but not chiseled. Natural. This guy looked like he ate steroids for breakfast, lunch, and dinner and chased all three meals with either Muscle Milk, an energy drink, or Jager bombs. Not too mention he had way too much gel in his hair, to where it stood straight up on his head in tiny lethal spikes. And did he fall asleep in the fake tanning booth, or did he intend to come out that orange? She was going to smack him if that was lip gloss making his lips so shiny, too.

"Sup? How you doin'?" Gina forced herself to smile. It smelled like he bathed in Axe and it was almost overpowering for her sensitive nose, which only making her nose wrinkle a little too much. She tried to breathe out of her mouth to ease the look of disgust threatening to creep across her face. What was the best way to get rid of this guy? The smell of him was overpowering any ability she had to think. "I'm dandy, how're you?" she replied, almost sarcastically. Not that this guy would pick up on it. It was taking everything she had not to squint her eyes with the sting of his smell. If she was lucky, maybe she looked slightly retarded and this guy would leave her alone. But when did she ever look retarded? Hell, when did she ever look ugly?

[KIT RATHBONE]

"I'm dandy, how're you?"

Brad leaned against the bar more as if he'd get the bartender's attention better if he practically laid over the bar. "Yo Garth Brooks how about some service ovah here?!" He called down the bar and then sat back down on the stool next to the girl. "I'd be doin' much better if you let me buy you a drink," he said in his greasy voice with a hint of that fake Italian accent. Brad wasn't even Italian, but he liked to act like he was. Chicks dug it! "You got a name sweet stuff?"

Kit heard the call from down the bar and when he was called Garth Brooks he contemplated giving the guy a beer on draft but not until after he pissed in it first. He knew he couldn't do that though and once done refreshing the other patrons he casually made his way back over to that side of the bar. His eyes landed on Regina to see if she was as disgusted by the look of this orange oompa loompa as he was, but she seemed to be in a good mood and that's all that mattered. If this sorry excuse for a guy was going to bother anyone then he'd be more than happy to kick his ass to the curb.

"What can I get you?" He asked flatly.

"Yeah I want me some grey goose martini dry with extra green olives. And whatever my beautiful friend here wants too, capische?"

Kit looked at Regina for a second and rolled his eyes for her to see before he went to make the idiot's drink. Who did this douchebag thing he was, James Bond?

[GINA FAYE]

"Yo Garth Brooks how about some service ovah here?!"

Gina just stared at the dick next to her with wide, disbelieving eyes. Seriously? Who raised him to talk like that to the person serving him drinks? She wished Kit would piss in his drink. "I'd be doin' much better if you let me buy you a drink." Gina gave a pained smile. "You got a name sweet stuff?" A small laugh left her and she shook her head as she ran her fingers through her blonde hair. "It ain't sweet stuff," she replied with a sweet smile, nearly gritting her teeth. God, how lame was this guy? At least Kit's lameness was cute. This guy...it was gross. Kit came sauntering back over and Gina's eyes fell on him. As her eyes rolled discreetly to the guy standing next to her, her look said, "Seriously?"

"Yeah, I want me some grey goose martini dry with extra green olives. And whatever my beautiful friend here wants too, capische?" Gina watched Kit's reaction, smiling wide at the way he rolled his eyes. She shook her head both letting him know that she didn't want anything and just shaking her head at the guy next to her. As Kit went to make this guy's drink, she decided it was about time to chase him off. Gina liked real men...like Kit. What she wouldn't give to have Kit between her legs...but this guy, he was a long way off. With a sweet smile, she leaned forward to the man next to her, moving to face him more.

"I have a question," she drawled, cocking her head to the side. "I've met a lot of men over the years, all shapes and sizes and colors. I've seen men white as a sheet and black as the night, but I ain't never met a man with quite your complexion. How long does it take in the fake tannin' booth to come out that orange?" She had to keep from laughing as she continued, mocking genuine interest. "And have you met any ladies that actually enjoy that? Because, I gotta say, I'm not quite sure how I feel about a guy that has more product in his hair than I do. But, I dunno, maybe I'm just weird." She gave a little laugh, waving her hand as if pondering her airheadedness. Then her bright eyes came back to him as if something occurred to her. "Oh! And what um..." she tapped her lips for emphasis. "What lip gloss is that? 'Cause it's really shiny, I might could use some of that."

Her smile was still sweet even though she had just eviscerated the man standing next to her. A serious look came over her face as she touched the counter near him and leaned in a little. "I gotta tell ya, Honey, outside of New Jersey's coastal regions, I don't think any woman would want you to buy her drinks. It's a biohazard, all those chemicals!" Perhaps it was mean, but Gina felt she was doing this guy a favor. If he wanted to get laid, then he needed to change his look. Hell, she would be willing to give him the makeover if he requested it. Something told her, though, he didn't like her very much right now.