Her laughter burned him. Hot and sharp it cut through the common chatter of the taproom. The edge of the happy sound froze JD to core. He ducked his head, hiding his scowl behind unruly hair. Not that it really helped. There was no escape from her laughter. Oh, he could turn his back. Find another place to drink. But it didn't really matter.One peal of laughter and JD could see the scene right down to which dimpled knee Buck was squeezing.
Flora, or was it Fauna? Hell, Floozy, for all JD cared. Whatever her name was, reached out and tousled his hair.
"Buck," she managed to say between giggles and heavy breathing, "you embarrassed the kid."
"I ain't a kid," JD snapped, his voice sharp enough to draw a curious look from Buck. He shoved her hands away from him. "Ain't one customer a night enough for ya?"
She didn't have the decency to look ashamed of herself. Instead she threw her head back, affording Buck an enviable vantage, and laughed. The round sound rolled around the room, warming the place. "Oh, honey," she cooed in a suddenly dangerous voice, "I'll always make time for you."
JD blushed and hated himself for it. He wanted to hate her too. He wanted to hate her free and easy joy - reckless with the promise of Buck's attention. She didn't care who shared in her delight.
He couldn't hate her, though. Not really. Not when he knew that by the next night, someone else's laughter would be ringing through the taproom. Buck was free with his charms. Fiercely devoted to each and every woman he met -- if only for a moment.
To be fair, they weren't exactly seeking a soul mate from the encounter. JD wasn't even certain Buck believed in such a thing.
JD did. He believed with every silly romantic notion he'd ever had that there was a certain someone out there just for him. Unfortunately, his particular someone was hell bent on being everyone's someone.
Buck was back to flirting with Flora, but he was keeping a curious eye on JD now as well. JD avoided the scrutiny with awkward obviousness. While Buck chewed over the proper way to phrase 'just what the hell bit you,' JD fled. He announced his intention of seeking another drink as an afterthought, waving off requests for fresh rounds from the table.
With the instincts of a true barkeep/therapist, Inez had a whiskey lined up for him before JD even knew he needed it. He knocked back the first shot hard, and barely felt the burn against his throat. Inez had another one waiting for him before the first glass touched wood. The second one was gone in a flicker.
The third he held up and considered. The whiskey was warm amber, infused with an inner light that could lead a man to the truth. Or blind him to it -- depending on his need.
JD wasn't seeking any particular revelations from the rich liquid- fire he was imbibing. JD already had his truths. And no matter how much they may burn and twist his very soul, they were his. He wouldn't forsake them.
fin.