Man…it had been a long day. Quin sighed as she shut her locker and sat down to pull on her tennis shoes. She’d dressed in a hurry that morning, and hadn’t been trying to impress anyone on her way to the station. She’d known she’d be wearing blues and just hadn’t wanted to try that hard. Plain blue t-shirt, light blue jeans, and a ponytail had fit the bill just fine.

Hefting her backpack onto one shoulder, Quin sighed and made her way out of the locker room and through the precinct to MRC headquarters, she’d left her keys in her desk and probably needed to clear some things up before she took off.

The place was thinning out, most of the detectives had already left for the night, and Quin didn’t have any trouble weaving through the desks to get to hers. Yeah…it was a mess. Quin dropped her backpack and sank into her chair to start straightening things up.

A pair of shoulders appeared on the edge of miss Archer's cubicle. Attached to a head, that was smiling disarmingly. Ashton stood behind Archer's cubicle wall, arms resting on its edge.

"Hey Archer," He said, down towards the woman cleaning. "A couple of the guys and I are planning to hit the pub. You interested?"

It was something police did often. Drinkin' with the men. Something to aid in bonding, and help morale. Ashton was traditional when it came to this sort of thing. Invite fellow cops out to have a good time. While there, talk to women. Drink. So what if this blended two of those things? One could always simply call Ashton 'efficient.'

Drawers slid opened, then closed…the meticulously ordered chaos inside Quin’s desk began to arrange itself in the best way possible, which in this case was…the fastest way possible. A voice shattered the slight Zen mood of the actions, and Quin’s head shot up. Ashton grinned down at her and the redhead couldn’t help but return the smile. He’d caught her off guard…and asked her to drinks with the guys.

Hellz to the yeah.

”I was just grabbing my keys. Which pub?”

That sounded like a yes. He liked yesses.

"The Black Horse pub," Ashton replied. "I can meet you there."

As an added bonus to inviting the fellow officer, drinks would be on her! This was, of course, traditional. And as Ashton was traditional, there was no way around it. She did not have to know that. If she said 'yes', she would find out soon enough.

He would meet her there. Quin grinned and shrugged her shoulders and they parted ways with the promise of meeting up with the other officers at the Black Horse. The redhead snorted a bit…nice name, pub. She finished her organization and pulled a brush from a drawer in the desk, re-fixing her pony tail and grabbing the keys she’d initially come back for. Then it was out the door…no time to change, so the guys would just have to take her as she was.

The pub wasn’t hard to find, and when Quin walked in….she wasn’t surprised at all. When Ashton had called the place a pub…he’d meant a pub, and Quin had seen her fair share of pubs. This one was no exception. It was slightly dirty, more than a little dim, and it smelled of beer and peanuts. All together…it was perfect.

Ashton was at the bar and Quin approached him, sliding into the seat next to his and nodding at the bartender. He approached and she ordered a beer, run of the mill domestic draft. It arrived on the bar, it was gold, and Quin sighed happily after taking a sip.

”I like this place.” she said simply, dropping her elbows on the bar and giving Ashton a sideways glance. ”Where’s everyone else?”

He took a moment to appreciate ponytails, then Ashton turned with a nod. He waved over his shoulder. "See you there." And he was off to get ready. Simple as that.

Yes, simple. The plan was simple. Bar. Men. Drinks. Archer. Fun. One wrench complicated the machinery of the plan.

Ashton didn't turn when Archer plopped down next to him. He held his beer in the tips of his fingers, slouched forward, brooding. "Wish I knew." Blah. Back-stabbing. They had said they'd BE HERE when he'd announced he was bringing Archer. He'd counted on it. They'd never done this before. 'Course, he'd never invited a woman cop along with them, so maybe... nah. BACKSTABBERS. That is what they were. Obviously.

At least he still had his drink.

He didn’t know where everyone else was. Quin turned fully in her seat and quirked an eyebrow, one hand still curled around her beer. Ashton had definitely said that ‘the guys’ were going out for drinks, and Quin had assumed that meant a group. There was no group here, only a single, solitary detective. Her partner.

Picking up the beer, Quin took a deep drink, then turned back to the bar, setting down the drink. There was no reason for this to be awkward. She knew what was up. ”They didn’t want to drink with me because I’m a chick, right?”

She shrugged her shoulders and took another swig of the quickly disappearing beer. ”I’m used to it. Took me ages to get the guys on the beat to drink with me too.”

She eyed him again. ”You showed up though.”

”I guess that means I owe you a beer.”

Because... she was... a chick? Now, that gave Ashton a good reason to turn towards her and arch an eyebrow. Because she was... a chick? She was... a chick? And she owed him a beer.

He straightened up on his stool and finished the drink he'd been working on before. Ashton replied gruffly, "I can live with that."

He could live with getting a free drink from Archer. Her being a 'chick'? Who used that word these days to describe dames? Crazy. It wasn't like she wasn't one of the guys.

"You lucked out, honestly," Ashton added morosely, slipping into a wry smile. He bowed his head, self-amused. "I think they were going to try and get you to buy drinks for everyone in the bar. The nerve." The. Nerve. Now, who in their right mind would do that?

Quin buried herself in her drink and finished the first one off quick. It was cold, and tasty, and beer. The first one always went down that way. That finished, Quin caught the bartender’s eye again and held up two fingers. Hopefully the bartender remembered what Ashton had been drinking.

He said she was lucky. That the guys had been planning to make her buy drinks for everyone in the bar.

”Puh-lease.” she said, waving a dismissive hand. ”They’d have all been sorely disappointed. You can ask the guys on the beat about that too.”

She got the new beer, and took a sip, this one slower than the ones she’d been taking before.

”At any rate. I plan on drinking tonight. You in?”

>>”They’d have all been sorely disappointed. You can ask the guys on the beat about that too.”

Oh? Would she have rebuffed such uncouth efforts? Ashton made a note to ask around about these 'guys on the beat'. These guys she had beat.

Was he drinking? The bartender sent one of the ordered drinks Ashton's way. He smiled and saluted Quin with the drink. "It looks like I am."

”Thank god.” Quin said when Ashton picked up beer and announced that he was indeed drinking. Yes, it was a bit worrisome that the other guys had decided to ditch when they found out she was joining them for drinks, but as long as her partner had her back…Quin was okay.

”So is this like…a regular thing?” Quin asked after a few moments of comfortable silence. ”Because I know I could definitely use a drink every now and then.”

"Yeah," Ashton replied. "Sort of a tradition."

If all the others got to be in on it, he did not see at all why Archer could not. She certainly pulled her own weight at the station. "Good way to blow off steam." He noted. The detective stopped short of any further train metaphor building. Instead, he simply chugged away.

A women with a face like an angel sat down on his free side with a smile. She had long legs, red lips, and short blond hair that was practically a corona. She ordered a Corona with a single finger. Then, she glanced towards Ashton, slumping forward on the bar with her head resting in hear hands, elbows on the counter. The way she smiled at him did wonders for her lips. Shame he wasn't facing her way.

"Don't think I'd mind if you made this a regular thing," the detective finished with a friendly smile.

So, it was tradition. A boy’s club though. Quin knew how it was. They thought a woman would cramp their style, keep them from talking about the things they normally talked about. Keep them from doing the things they were used to doing. Quin didn’t mind any of those things. It was the same ole trap though. Soon enough they’d find out that she could pose as one of the guys…and they’d really start treating her like one of the guys.

It was just a little depressing…because she wanted to be social with the people she worked around.

Quin studied her beer and her glass. Then Ashton pointed out that he wouldn’t mind her making it a habit to show up. Quin laughed.

”Really? Do you have something against other people showing up?”

"Hm?" Other people showing up? Whatever point she was making, he hadn't got it. "The more, the merrier?" The more, the more likely other people would chip in and buy him beer.

A light cough came from behind his back. The five-foot-nothing blond with the red lips covered her mouth with her fist daintily. She was not used to getting no attention. She was far prettier than the redhead this man had his eye on. Well, curses she realized. Perhaps I will have to catch his eye.

Catching eyes meant being aggressive. Being aggressive was a dangerous line to walk. Aggressive women usually came off as fast. And fast, she was not. She merely had a thing for men buying her drinks. It was a fetish, really. Sick. Disgusting. But one she was wholly devoted to. She just loved free alcoholic beverages purchased by big, strong men. And attention. Attention was also good. Being an attention whore was kind of her thing.

"Excuse me," she interrupted quietly. "Do you come here often?" Because she needed drink advice. Her silly little head could not possibly figure out what she wanted. What was best. At least, that was her story. And she was sticking to it, come hell or high water. Ugh. Water. Hell or high liquor quotas being met was a far better describer for her lofty ultimatum.

She smiled a polite, slightly-embarrassed smile at the man. And attempted to charm him away from his woman.

He didn’t get it. Quin sighed and simply shrugged her shoulders. There was no use trying to explain, she’d just come across as desperate for attention or contrary to her common attitude. It was one thing to be treated like one of the guys on the job. That was more than acceptable. To be treated like one of the guys all the time . Too much.

A polite little cough emerged from the other side of Ashton, and Quin ignored it for the moment, opting for drinking more of her second beer. While it had managed to stick around longer than the first…it too was starting to dwindle. The bartender, recognizing Quin for what she was, slid another to wait on deck.

”The more the merrier.” she responded toasting thin air and finishing her second beer.

Now, instead of a cough, a voice came from the other side of Ashton, and Quin plopped her elbows on the bar, leaning forward so she could see the tiny thing that had hidden herself over there.

Did who come there often? It didn’t take Quin long to figure out the answer to her unspoken question and she rolled her eyes and settled back on her stool. This was a chance to blow off steam…and it had turned into a partner bonding experience. Surely Ashton would politely tell the lady to buzz off.