Ashton nodded. "Good food, good drink. Good people. Usually, it's either the pub we were at, or here." For the guys. For him.

Ashton held up two fingers to the man behind the counter as they approached. He paused his counter-scrubbing to give a nod of acknowledgment, but said nothing further.

Ashton liked Mike. He was the strong silent type. When he said something, you listened. Otherwise, he didn't let his words get in the way. And he seemed to know exactly what you wanted, and what you needed. As if to emphasize that point, he plopped down two amazing-looking pints of good beer on the counter for them.

Ashton sat down on a stool by the pints and took one. He let Archer take the other.

"Archer here is ordering, Mike" He said, and drank.

Mike looked to Archer expectantly.

Quin was a little touched. This was apparently another one of the commonplace haunts. Ashton was taking her around and getting her acquainted with what it was like to be social in the MRC division. Man, she’d really lucked out, getting him as a partner.

The bartended had that ‘service industry ESP’ that you saw sometimes when you were somewhere really awesome. All Ashton had to do was hold up two fingers and two of the best looking pints of beer Quin had ever seen almost miraculously appeared on the bar.

She sat down with a smile and a nod. No more was necessary. Mike got it.

Then Ashton put her on the spot. Mike was looking at her, and Quin did the only thing she could think of. She fell back on the safest bet there was, as far as pizza was concerned.

“One piece of cheese…please?” she said. Hoping nobody would be disappointed in her lack of pizza bravery.

Ashton chimed in, "Make that two."

That was all it took. Mike went to work.

Ashton turned back to Archer, smiling. "Good choice. Their cheese is the best." Several different types on one pie. All of it, good. He turned the subject to her. "You never told me where you're from. I said I'm from Rhode Island, then we went on to greener pastures." Where was she from? What was all that about?

Ashton took another drink. Damn, it was good.

Ashton approved of her choice and Quin waited patiently for the bartender to have a chance to bring them their food. Man, pizza was going to be great. She smiled, and Ashton asked her where she was from. Taking a sip of her beer and shrugging her shoulders, Quin told what there was to tell.

“I’m from Indianapolis originally. Went to college at Northern Illinois. I’ve always been a fan of cities though, and once I heard the stuff New York was doing with mutants and the police force, I thought it would be a good fit.” It was a pretty standard story. “My parents lived there until like a year ago. They’re both retired now and they’re travelling.” Quin left off the part about how they were travelling around in an RV, after selling all their earthly possessions and hopping from commune to commune to find one that fit. It wasn’t that she was unhappy or ashamed, but there were some things you just didn’t share right off the bat.

Her turn to ask a question! “Where did you go to school?”

Indianapolis. Ashton took note. Her reason for coming to New York was very interesting.

Archer asked where he went to school. "That depends," Ashton replied. "Do you want the long answer or the short answer?"

The long answer was much longer, and dealt with parents. Major life decisions. Basically, boring stuff. By comparison, the short answer was far preferable. And, well. Shorter.

Ashton glanced towards Mike. Mike met his eye from the kitchen. The look he gave Ashton told him 'not yet, but soon'. Mike was working on it. He gave Ashton another look. This second look was far more mysterious. Mike dropped his eyes back to his task before Ashton had a chance to grasp the full extent of the message, but... for a split second, he could of sworn Mike was telling him to 'cut the crap'. But what could that mean...?

Ashton's focus swung back to Archer. "Rhode Island Military Academy, then Berkley." He answered finally. "Graduated with degrees in criminology and sociology. You?"

The truth was, Quin didn’t mind either way. The short answer was probably shorter, but the long answer probably held more…answers. The redhead just waited. After a lot of looking around and non-verbal communication with the bartender, Ashton answered.

”Miltary academy?” Quin echoed, turning slightly in her seat to study Ashton as he gave his answer. And then Berkley. Criminology and sociology. Quin nodded her head and took another drink of her beer, how did it stay so cold so long?

”Just criminology for me. Minored in psychology though. I wanted to finish in four years so I could get out here.”

She’d phrased her words as a question earlier, but just to be clear, ”So how did you end up being a cop instead of going in to the military?”

Ah, the question of the hour.

Ashton cleared his throat uncomfortably. "My dad's military. Old man wanted me to be, too. Turns out, I didn't want to jump through the hoops. He didn't really like that, but..." His eyes dropped to the rim of his beer. "Screw him."

Maybe that would have been a bit too much information to give out on first date. Maybe. But this was not a date. Nope. They were colleagues. And colleagues could share.

Ashton was not planning to share his entire life story, however. On the rest of the story, he remained 'lips sealed'.

Well. That made sense. Quin had a feeling that the rest of the subject was off limits. It might have been the “screw him” that Ashton had thrown onto the end of his statement. Instead of digging for more information like a good Detective, she simply nodded her head and took another drink of beer to keep herself quiet. Some people might have been put off…but Quin was simply curious to find out more. She’d have to wait for the right time.

” My parents are both English teachers. My mom taught AP English at a high school, and my dad was a college professor. I think they wrote my fascination with the law off as a possible segue into writing mysteries when I grew up. They were surprised when I actually wanted to see the law thing through.”

Man the beer was good. The pizza was definitely going to be good, and she was going to learn how to play darts. “For what it’s worth. I think you made the right choice.” Quin said to her partner. Things were nice.

Ashton looked up from his beer at her as she revealed a bit more about herself.

Archer's parents sounded like interesting people. They'd taken her interest in law as a writing bug? Strange.

... And Archer thought he'd made the right choice. Ashton ran a finger around the rim of his glass thoughtfully, then agreed. "You too."

He shifted whatever moody look he'd had into a smirk, and added. "So, you went through all of that... just for MRC?" It was a different topic than parents and pasts. Although technically, it still pertained to pasts. Ashton chuckled. Not at her. But at the thought. "I didn't know we were that famous."

Quin smiled almost involuntarily at the inherent compliment in the two words Ashton spoke to her. It may have just been a ‘you too’ but it meant something to the redhead. It meant that she wasn’t a burden as a partner, it meant that she was actually starting to fit in.

”And yup. I went through all of that, just for MRC.” Quin said on a small sigh and with a slight smile. “You have to admit. It’s an incredible idea. The public is used to people like the X-Men running around with their underwear on the outside of their pants. Actually recruiting mutants to keep the peace by letter of the law…I mean, wow.” Quin let the thought hang there, wondering if Ashton had ever really thought about it.

Two words had caused her to smile. Ashton didn't even have to look. He'd known they would. If you compliment a lady, that's usually what you get. And if you compliment a lady, she'll ask for some more.

Ashton had never gone through all of what Archer went through for MRC. His journeys had brought him to New York. There, and back again. A cop's tale. What he had to show for it wasn't a cool ring, but maturity and inner strength. MRC... he'd asked to be in MRC.

"Technically," Ashton realized. "I'm in the same boat. After I rejoined the NYPD, I heard whispers. MRC. Wasn't quite as dramatic as your story, but... yeah," he smirked. "They are kind of famous." He directed the smirk in her direction. "And we would look awful in spandex super suits." Well, he noted inwardly. Some of us.

”I think everyone would look terrible in a spandex suit.” Quin said, nodding at the sage wisdom of the statement and reaching out to pat Ashton on the shoulder a little awkwardly.

”And I wonder if that’s how everyone ends up in MRC.” she mused, returning to the beer and taking another swig. At this point she was at least two sheets to the wind and heading for three. They’d had quite a bit. That was okay though.

”So what do you think about those X-Men anyway?” Quin said with a sudden scowl. It was probably obvious what Quin’s opinion was.

"Depends. They get in the way. Sometimes. Other times, they can be helpful... just so long as they play by my rules."

This was a complicated matter. "They put me together with one, before you. Name's Shinbo... Nice kid. I wouldn't say the X-men are all bad." Ashton paused. He squinted at her. "Just don't tell him I told you that."

Weren’t all that bad? Quin snorted into her beer and heaved a large sigh. ”It doesn’t sit right with me. They didn’t do the book work, they didn’t do the leg work.

Ashton had said that the one guy was okay. Quin was going to be harder to convince, ”And I’m sure this guy was okay, you wouldn't say so if he wasn't. But he’s not a cop.”

This required another drink of beer, and shrugged, ”So you don’t have to worry about me saying anything.”

Ashton smirked. "I agree with you, really. As a whole, The X-men don't sit right with me. But--" A monosyllabic grunt cut him off. Mike was looking at them both from the window between the bar and the kitchen. Ashton looked.

"Done," he said.

"Ah, a subject change. This one seems a lot more palatable." Ashton smiled.