2018.06.30: Cops Night Out

Cops Night Out
Sergeant Donahue calls in some of her fellow officers to complete an urgent inventory of the Police Department's evidence locker. It turns into a dinner out once they are finished. Not everything goes well.
IC Date	Sat Jun 30th, 2018
IC Time	16:29:09 2018, PDT.
Players	Faith, Lleutrim, Catherine, Sander, Merek, Heidi Hammer, and Tormod
Location	Prospect Police Department - Evidence Locker and later, Smoke and Barley.
Spheres	Mortal, Mortal+, Werewolf

---

Prospect Police Department - Evidence Locker

The door to the room is heavy, solid wood with reinforcing sheet metal over it. The door is locked, and a keypad system is used to open it. Inside, there is a counter stretching across the room, with a table next to it. The counter is manned by a file clerk, and boxes, ziplock bags of various sizes, and stacks of forms are racked on the table. Behind the counter, and the clerk, stretch racks of shelving holding evidence boxes. A computer terminal on the counter helps log items in and out and search for items by case number or description among other things, giving the file clerk the shelf location of the requested items.

It is now currently Sat Jun 30 16:29:09 2018, PDT.

---

Armed with clip boards and ink pens, (which one of you got thumped for trying to write with blue?) the team has scoured the entire evidence locker to log, categorize, and account for every piece of evidence that was supposed to be here. Given the recent incident with some dirty cops selling to one of the local gangs, it had to be done. And your lazy sergeant wasn't going to do it by herself. She hand picked the other three and they worked in pairs. Donahue with Sander and Shackleford with Donnachaidh.

Overhead the AC continues to drone softly, and the rest of the station is finally settling down after shift change about an hour and a half ago. Donahue is currently balancing precariously on the top step of a ladder with one foot while the other perches on the top of a wobbling shelf while she reaches for a narrow box that's shoved up over the top of an ancient duct system that hasn't been used since the central AC and Heating were installed. "Don't you dare let go of the ladder Detective!"

Lleutrim was the unlucky bastard who had grabbed a /blue/ pen, OMG. So now he has a black pen and took the ass chewing with stoic calm. While Sergeant Donahue is in close proximity, he also keeps his sense of humor stuffed in a sock so he's all professional while they are working through the evidence inventory. There's a glance over at Donahue and Sander with the ladder fiasco and he thins his mouth, watching that going on for a second before he looks back to Catherine. "Did we note those cartridges in B-1137 yet?"

Sander calls up, "Relax, I've got you. Thanks for taking a turn on the ladder. Now, if you can convince the brass we need to make this place less tall, we'd all be very happy."

"If she falls," Catherine asks Lleu, "Do we have to do a safety report?" THere's a hint of a whine to that question. Catherine's about had her fill of paperwork. She's currently pretty much doing the opposite of Faith...she's crouched down peering under the bottom shelf, actually with her flashlight out, looking to see if there's anything hiding there. "Ask her if we have to count the cockroaches," she tells Lleutrim. "Or arrest them. I think this one's dealing."

There's a grunt from the Sarge as she pushes up off the ladder and the shelving groans under her weight. Fingers grip the edge of the vent shaft as she stretches further and calls back down to Sander, "If you weren't so far away I'd cuff you for that!" The metal shelf sways slightly and she barks, "Shackleford! Get over here so I can land on you! Donnachaidh, come hold this shelf still!"

Lleutrim lowers his baritone for Catherine's ears, "Collect 'n bag'm and I can file them on her desk later to ask. She'll /love/ it." He squats down and goes through his checklist to see if he already marked B-1137, sees they haven't, so he draws out that bin and counts the spent rifle cartridges to make note. He glances up when the shelving groans, looking concerned. Lleu then stands and sets the clipboard down, about to say something when Donahue's barking orders. He steps over and puts his hands up, "Got the shelf. You fall, we'll catch you, Sergeant."

Sander continues in a carrying voice, "This is ridiculous. They can find the budget for new patrols -" He pauses, realizing one of them is present, "no offense meant - but they can't get a scissor lift or something... so we don't have *this*?" He nods up to the slightly unsteady Sergeant Donohue, rather than using his hands, because those are very busy keeping the extension ladder steady.

Catherine groans and straightens. Slowly. Something harsh in what might be russian escapes her lips. "This'd be a lot easier if dispatch quit trying to make me live up to my indian name. Gonna have to rethink going to cars." She walks, stiffly over to where Faith's struggling with the shelving and Sander holds the ladder, and takes the other side of the ladder to help steady it. "You ok up there Fai... Sgt? Serious question."

Catherine doesn't seem to notice Sander's query about money for patrols vs scissor lifts.

"Just a minute Shackleford.. climb up here. You're the only one small enough to get on my shoulders." Is she serious? Donahue steps down off the shelf with one foot and places it back on the top rung of the ladder, bracing her hands on the front of the vent. So with Lleutrim on the shelf and Sander on the ladder, she's steady enough between them to act as an extension for Catherine to climb. "Let's go let's go! The detective can't hold the ladder all day, he's tired from answering so many phone calls and heavy lifting frappes! Move it Officer or I'll put you on beach patrol with a tricycle!"

"None taken, Detective." Donnachaidh has a temper once riled, but he's not taking offense at some idle passing comment tonight. His attention looks to be more concerned with the Sergeant not getting herself hurt while checking the contents of the uppermost shelves. "Shoulders?" That doesn't sound like a good idea at all. Until he pictures Catherine trying to ride around on the beach, "Unicycle." Walks-Far is probably going to give him a dirty look. Lleu smirks and tries not to be too amused at the goings on.

Sander snarks, "My section drinks coffee black, like it was meant to be, thanks. Now, can you see those boxes, or do we have to come rescue you?" He'll probably pay later for needling the Sergeant, but for now it's too much fun. And he's holding her ladder.

Catherine looks up. "This is such a bad idea...." but then she starts laughing at the threat, even while she climbs up on top o Faith's shoulders. "Hey! There's a box back here!" She stretches. "One. More. Inch. Got it!" She hooks a finger on the file box. "Unicycle, huh? Do I look like a circus clown? -Don't- answer that Donnchaidh, as you value your scalp." She starts inching the box back to where it can be grabbed just from the ladder, and starts climbing down off Faith's shoulders. She shouldn't...really. She does anyway, pokes Faith in the ribs to see if she squeaks.

Lleutrim resists the urge to run a hand over his skull and instead keeps it supporting the shelf, "What scalp? I buzz it all off." He eyes the rib poking and his gaze flicks up to see how Donahue reacts. /He/ is being a good male and trying to keep that shelf steady and from collapsing while the two women are up there. There is a sideways glance to Sander briefly and one corner of his mouth curls.

The blond was as stoic as a god damned valkyrie up there, perched on the ladder with one foot and the shelving unit with the other - Catherine on her shoulders having retrieved the box that was -just- out of reach. It was going to be a successful mission, goddammitall. Then there's the inevitable poke. The squeak sounds like one of those super-thin rubber toys designed for poodles. High pitched, surprised, and the quintessential opposite of badass. However - the Sarge doesn't move. She keeps planted like the god damned Statue of Liberty and starts to count backwards.. "Five. Four.." Catherine better run.

Sander looks at Lleu. He sees the expression and knows what it means. "Forget about it," he says, before turning his attention back to the spectacle above. The ladder remains well steadied. One could even flee down it, if one needed to.

Catherine manages to not laugh at hte squeak, she does stand her ground, though, grinning. "What's in the box, Sarge?" She's reaching up to take the box when it's handed down, brave if not wise, while the guys hold the ladder and shelf.

To Sander, Lleutrim glances again, "What?" Oh boy! /What/ a squeak it is, too! Catherine is daring! Donnachaidh bares his teeth in a brief feral grin of his own, loving it and eating up the moment. "Careful now, Sergeant. You might want to get down off of the ladder before you explode." Messy, that.

Sergeant Donahue does look like she's gonna pop a gasket.. but then LLeu snips the fuse and she takes a breath and exhales on "one.." then she does indeed hand the box down as she reaches the base of the ladder. "Probably a fucking stack of fifty year old toilet paper requisitions. Feels like paper, anyways." The woman drops down to the floor and nods to Lleu and Sander, "Thanks. Totally owe you both a beer after that. I think .. if Donnachaidh and Shackleford got B-1137, then whatever in that damnedable box is the last of this hell hole."

"Donnchaidh got it." Catherine tells Faith. She takes the box over to a table, and looks at the writing on it. No writing on it. "No inventory number...what's in you." She doesn't blow the dust off, there's lots. "Bets on what's in here?" She waits a second and pops the top off.

Sander nods in agreement. "How big's the stuff in there? We found a bunch of boxes with extra space. It's easy to document chain of custody for that, yeah?"

Merek comes in from Prospect Police Department - Patrol Desks

Donnachaidh dutifully holds the shelf steady until both women are down from the ladder. He looks to see what Catherine found but it's very dusty. Instead he'll take charge of the ladder and see that it's moved out of the way, "Let's not put it back up that high, shall we?" Infact, unless Donahue stops him, Lleu'll go put the ladder back where they got it from to stow it. "I'll hold you to that offer of beer later. /Good/ beer."

Not stopping the big guy, Donahue is pushing her hands up through her hair to slick it out of her face. This leaves a streak of dirt across her cheek that accentuates the scar near her eye. While Lleutrim puts the ladder away, she shakes her head at Sander, "Detective. We do NOT just shove evidence into a box with empty space, even if it wasn't previously marked with appropriate identification. This room has been a morgue, a barracks, a community bomb shelter in case of nuclear fallout.. it could be anything in that damned box. If it's hazmat, you're going to be in charge of appropriate disposal with all the paperwork in triplicate.. am I clear?" She then walks over to join Catherine at a table where she's opening a dust covered box about the size of an old boot-box to reveal whatever it was stored on the top of a non-functional vent left over from the historical days of this room. "You earned it Donnachaidh.. hell. I'll take you all out to the bar and buy you a round of whatever you want - and we'll throw in dinner if we don't have to catalog whatever Shackleford finds."

Catherine pulls out an old photo, possibly a tintype from the turn of the century. "Treasure," she tells the others. "Real treasure." She starts to carefully spread old photos out on the table. Soon there's some from the 40s, and then a series of photos of some formal event, officers in dress uniform or tux and their spouses or dates in evening gowns, drawn up for a big group photo. "Must be an awards dinner..." She looks up at Faith. "You thinking what I am?"

Merek has come in to the evidence room after a bit of work. He has on his full uniform, and his cap is shifted onto his face a little bit. He looks to those in the room and nods with respect a bit, as he moves to place some evidence that he has into a locker properly. He then looks towards the others and their box as he moves that way.

There's one glance at the new arrival and Lleutrim looks him over. The former military Captain says, "Take your cover off indoors." Once the ladder is stowed, Donnachaidh comes back over to see what Catherine is unpacking from it. He looms over her, "Are those old Police photos?" Hmmm, did he hear Donahue right? "We get dinner after this, let's go back to that Smoke and Barley place. It smelled fantastic."

Sander starts out with an argumentative stance, but drops back quickly as the contents are set out and he gets a look. "I don't know why you'd hide that away, but... Sergeant, I doubt we should really even class this as evidence anymore." He takes a look back toward Merek as the admonition is delivered, nods to him, then looks back at the relics.

Merek lifts up his hand to remove the cap, and then folds it neatly, before he places it safely with his belongings. He then brushes a hand back through his hair, "Is everything alright, sirs?" he asks, looking to them, as if noting if they assistance or not.

Sergeant Donahue says, "Oh my poor pocketbook, Brain?" Faith answers Catherine with a take on an old cartoon as she puts her hands on her hips for just a moment, then points at Merek and barks in a command voice after he's called out, "YOU! Stop right the fuck there! We're doing inventory. If you're shoving shit in that locker you're going to come over here right the fuck now and add it to Officer Donnachaidh's list so he can check it off officially. Then you can join us all for dinner at my expense since you have just joined our inventory crew, intentionally or not." And she nods finally at Sander. "It's not evidence.. pack that shit up and let's take it with us.. we need to get out of here before the other half of the fucking department joins us."

Catherine jumps. "Ahhh, same thing we do every night?" She replies to Faith when the shouting's done. She starts putting the old photos away. "No, defintely not evidence photos. Looks like history photos. Do we even have a department historian? No I ws thinking secret policeman's ball, Faith. Think the powers that be would go for it?" S he pulls the awards photo back up. "Noir...forties style. Auction off...oh stuff like some of the photos, ride in a cop car, raise money for the department's favorite charity and have fun while we do it. We're getting shoved down here to do this stuff, the PD needs a good moral booster event." She looks at the others gathered around. "Talk about it over dinner? Smoke and Barley's awesome. If Yuri shows we'll make him buy, though. Lawyers have tons of money."

"Everything is fine." That to Merek, then Lleutrim thrusts out a hand, "I'm Lleu Donnachaidh, Patrol. I don't think I have seen you before." If the hand is accepted it is lightly calloused, long fingered with a firm grip. Donnachaidh makes the direct eye contact of a confident man, his baritone low but not soft. He smiles a little, "I think you just got invited to dinner." There is a flicker of his gaze at the Sergeant for her foul language but no comment. Catherine gets an upnod, "Let's not do anything with those photos until we have made copies? Get some good digital shots of each one. We can do that tomorrow so we have backups."

Merek looks over towards the Sergeant, "Yes sir," he states, as he holds up his hands, then he shifts them back to his sides. He nods a bit and moves towads them, while he starts to file the information about the evidence. "... What kind of dinner?" he asks, offering his hand to shake Lleu's. His own hand is smooth and a bit different than most that have worked in their life, though all the same. He also speaks with a husky purr to his voice, and noticing Catherine he waves, "Good to see you again."

Merek says, "Oh uh, Merek, Merek Black. Patrol."

Sander closes on the box and helps put the photos back in. He's not wearing gloves, but otherwise, he handles them as though they *were* evidence, no matter what he said earlier. Distractedly, packing up the historical photos, he says, "Smoke and Barley is fine with me." That's enough of a plan.

Sergeant Donahue glares a little bit balefully at Catherine's suggestion, and she catches the look from Lleutrim too. "You have no idea do you Donnachaidh? Department policy is females can't wear dress uniforms. Policy is stuck in the dark ages with those photos." She rubs her hands on her pants and mutters under her breath before she admits, "You have a point Shackleford. And it's a good idea. We can talk about it over dinner at the Smoke and Barley." Sarge glances at Merek and nods, "Dinner and drinks on me. We want to show up in uniform or meet in an hour off duty?"

Catherine murmurs "Thanks," as she gets help putting the photos away. She hefts the box. "I'll sic Yuri's people on copying all these. It'll give Sergei something to do besides pester Kimi..." She starts to say something to Faith when Faith growls about the uniforms, but refrains. "GIve it an hour, I say so we can change. No drinking in uniform even off duty, you know...bad image and all that. Not that I drink but the rest of you might be in trouble. See you guys over there in a bit?"

"Alcohol is against my nature," Merek tells them, while he then lets out a chuckle and can't keep a straight face, then he shakes his head a bit, "I can change up, and meet up with you all. I just finished my shift," he adds.

Nope, didn't have a clue. The expression on his face is clear, "Well, that's antiquated, /and/ stupid. Women in the military branches have dress uniforms for a long time. I imagine we can get that changed without too much trouble. Anybody bold enough to fight it will be dogpiled by the feminists from all over the country, not just locally." Lleu gives a nod, "I concur. I'm not drinking in uniform. Let's break and meet back in an hour." He glances at his watch, then looks to the Sergeant to see if she agrees. There's a funny look at the new fella for his comment about alcohol. Clearly, Merek has no Gaelic or Viking blood.

Sander holds a straight face, looking down at exactly what he'd wear otherwise, then back up. "Looks like I'll beat you all there. I'll try not to get too much of a head start... but I might have them throw something on the smoker."

"See you all in an hour.." says Faith, but she does give Lleutrim a shake of her head. "Tradition, we can get it changed, and then I get my ass handed to me at every god damned promotion board I see from now until Ragnarok. I'll wear the stupid high heels."

---

Smoke and Barley - Main Room

The smell of spices, fire and broiling meat assails one's nose upon entering into the bar and grill. The soft murmurs of patrons seem a non-ending drone as the door shuts, blocking the sounds of the city off. Wood paneled walls are adorned with hanging plants and pictures of forests bringing the feel of wild places indoors. Full spectrum lighting keeps the outdoor daylight feel of the restaurant by shining on the plants and pictures.

In the center of the room is a large curved grill, a specialty built item that allows guests to watch their meats cooking and the Chef at work. Thick oaken tables are laid around the grill for those that would enjoy the dance of the flames as it sears the meat. The tables have large leather seats and are set for the barbecue feast to come, with a bucket that holds bottles of spicy sauces and piles of napkins.

To the right of the front door, taking up half the room, is the bar.The bar is a deep mahogany, a gorgeous piece with slightly dulled brass poles running along to provide foot rests, and an armrest, with comfortable stools lining it to allow others to sit. A mirrored shelf rests behind the bar, with light shining up through the drinks to allow them to be seen clearly. A chalkboard on a wall lists out the micro brews of the month. Beyond the bar a section is marked off and three cork dartboards hang on the wall.

A small hallway leads the way to a set of stairs, a private area, bathrooms and kitchen. The door to the private room is marked "members only" and locked.

---

Sander sits at a table near the grill, positioned so he can see the main entrance. There's a folded paper placard in the middle of the table: RESERVED. He hasn't been here too long after all - he has a beer, but it's hardly been touched. He has a dead-tree newspaper out next to him, and it looks like he's on the crossword. He tucks it away and waves as his colleagues enter.

After a little while Donnachaidh arrives dressed in a Rangerup T-shirt with a worn and faded looking USMC logo on the front with a heroic quote and on the back is a pile of crusty skulls and 'Semper Fidelis' over top. That's tucked into blue jeans worn with well used black combat boots.

As Sander said he'd arrive first, the Detective is easy to spot. Lleu goes to join him and takes a seat and adjusts his position so he can keep an eye on what's going on around them, ideally with his back towards a wall so he can keep watch. "We should order trays full of buttery nipples shots just so we can see the look on Donahue's face when she arrives, then announce everyone has to drink them without using their hands."

Catherine comes in dressed in jeans and a flag tank top. She spots the other cops easily enough and heads their way. "Gents," she greets them. "Everything here is good, in case you haven't been here before," she tells Merek and Lleu. "As long as you like meat. If you're a vegan, leave now, I suggest."

Boots. Always with the boots. At least they aren't jackboots again. Faith arrives on the coattails of Catherine, having changed into jeans and a sweater. She's also washed up and applied a light concealing layer of makeup that almost fades the scars. "Hey guys," she greets with an easy lift of her hand. "Did Black make it? I hope I didn't actually scare him.. "

Merek nods a bit to Catherine as she speaks, having arrived. He has on a casual sleeved shirt, meant for this weather in soft tones of cream, while he is wearing loose cargo pants. He finds a seat and settles into it, picking up a menu. He greets the others with a smile and a nod. "Mmmn. What to get..."

Lleutrim smiles at Catherine's arrival, "I have been here before but only for drinks. Sander introduced me to the place after you showed me the Sideshow." A nod, "I love steak." And then Donahue arrives. Donnachaidh's grey eyes look Faith over from top to bottom in an appreciative manner. "I ordered buttery nipple shots to get us started. We have to drink them with no hands." He's a liar with a smirk because he hasn't actually ordered anything, yet.

Sander clears his throat softly. "Actually, I took advantage of the wait to order something for the table." He waves to someone by the kitchen. "As Catherine said, I hope you like meat. We have brisket, ribs, pulled pork, and a few sides." He hesitates and grins at Faith. "I know you promised to cover this one... we'll square up later." That question is set aside with the arrival of a pretty good spread (for carnivores).

Faith's mouth just opens a little, hanging there like a fish that's just been pulled from the water. Sander's order seems to save her composure - aside from the pink in her cheeks. "Thanks Sander.. I'll pick up the tab, no worries. Thanks for getting the order started. I'm so hungry I think I could inhale the meat right off the bone." She pulls a chair out and drops into a seat, asking the waiter who's starting to deliver the trays, "How about a pitcher of dark ale and a pitcher of tea.. and one of water for the table?'

Sander holds up a finger, "Two of water," before tucking in.

"I'll take the photos," Catherine volunteers. "I don't drink either." She stretches her legs out in front of herself and relaxes back in the seat. "Smoked brisket for me I think. And the tea is a great idea." She looks over at Faith. "That was a really good squeak, by the way. I honestly didn't think you had it in you."

Heidi steps through an ornate wooden door into the bar and grill named ???Smoke and Barley???

Faith is probably safe. They likely do not have buttery nipple shots here. Donnachaidh's just a bastard. He watches the expression on her face and just smiles, then gives Sander a nod, "Sounds good. I'm definitely ordering a steak, myself, but I'll be happy to try some of the other things as well." Catherine /also/ gets one of those looks but at least she has a good reason not to drink, due to her tribal blood. Soon as that server comes back to take their drink orders from Donahue for the pitchers, Lleu orders his medium rare steak with a side salad.

Merek orders up a nice personal steak with a side of ribs and seasoning that is specific to his desires. The meat which he requests needs to be medium-rare, and he also takes an order of cherry coke and rum.

Heidi steps into the Smoke & Barley, crinkling her nose with a smile at the familiar, rich scents of spices and grilled meat. She's wearing a pair of weathered denims tonight, with a long-sleeved, high-necked clingy black commando sweater. Her tousled, amber blonde hair is drawn back in a loose braid. She appears to have been initially headed towards the hallway that leads to the downstairs...but she'll spot at least two people that she's been keeping an eye out for lately, which causes her to slow down and scope out what's going on.

Faith looks happy to eat whatever was already ordered, as she sits at the table with the group of three.. this of course leaves one empty chair at the table. Pouring a pint of the rich dark ale, she takes note of Heidi coming in. "Hey! C'mere.. Dinner's on me." She gestures at the woman to join them, "We just finished inventory at the station, this is Lleu, Sander, Catherine, Merek.. everyone, this is Heidi."

Five people are seated together around a veritable feast. All are off duty, and so a little relaxed, but someone who knows what they're looking for would see a table of cops. There is still one empty seat at the table, and the low-and-slow-cooked meats smell good. The place is busy tonight, but no one else has an order quite like this.

Sander doesn't bother saying much. The food is here, and everyone was hungry.

Catherine looks around the table. "So what do you think about the secret pliceman's ball...." Catherine starts. Then Faith starts making introductions. "Hey," she greets Heidi. "We've met, briefly," she tells Faith.

Once the food has arrived, Merek takes up his fork and knife, and starts eating then sampling his drink. He looks over towards Heidi and offers a nod and wave, then he continues to eat a bit.

The guy with the black USMC T-shirt and buzzed skull gives Heidi a looking over as she comes in. Lleutrim has an upnod for her as Faith makes the introductions. He looks about 6'3" and is of northern European exraction with grey eyes. He leans over to snag another chair and bring it around to make sure they have enough seats. "Lots of food and drink. Anything more to go with the name? You with the Department?" His baritone suggests he may be from the Deep South though his accent is very faint. Once the pitchers arrive, he pours himself a tall dark ale.

Tormod steps through an ornate wooden door into the bar and grill named 'Smoke and Barley'.

Heidi beams right back at Faith, when the sergeant waves and smiles at her. She saunters right over to their table, slipping to the side of a waitress with her hands full of plates and drinks without breaking a lithe stride. She walks right up to the indicated chair, resting both of her hands on the back of it, "I hope I'm not interrupting," She grins, before aiming her chin towards Faith, "But I /have/ been lookin for you, and," She smiles to Catherine, "You too. Bout somethin fun." She then glances towards Lleu, Sander and Merek, studying the unfamiliar men before wondering, "So you're all cops, mm? Kief." She tells them admiringly in her dusky, Afrikaner accent. The up-lilt at the end suggests that 'kief' is approximate to 'neat'.

The door to smoke is pressed open only to be filled moments later by the form of Tormod, The large man glancing over the place as he slips inside followed moments later by a man looking to be of arabic descent. The pair heading through the main room speaking softly in Arabic holding a private discussion clearly as they make their way over towards the bar.

At the dartboards, Catherine looks at Faith across the rim of her glass of iced tea. "Looking for us," she repeats, then looks back at Heidi, "What for? I'm sorta scared to ask, actually."

"Well I'm a cop, they're all minions.." Faith counters Heidi's inquiry, grinning as she gestures to the food, ale, tea and water that makes for a hell of a spread at the table, "Help yourself." She points at Catherine then, trying to finish the conversation started a moment ago, "I think the ball is a great idea. I'll donate my ticket to Heidi, she can wear the dress and heels." She misses Tormod stroll in as she's chatting with the others.

Merek looks to a waitress and asks for a to-go box should any be available. He then stands up after a moment, "I should be on my way, was nice," he offers to the others. He then offers a nod to them all, even Heidi who has just walked over, and moves to take his leave.

A big medium rare steak with a side salad is brought out and put down in front of Donnachaidh. Lleutrim thanks the server and tastes his ale. His gaze tracks Heidi briefly, then slips to watching two men come into the establishment. He studies Tormod and his companion, possibly picking up on the Arabic right off. Any trace of playfulness has left him as his attention is focused on the new arrivals, checking them out.

Catherine shakes her head. "Nope....you gotta go. Trust me on this one. We'll get you some flats...you're tall enough you don't need heels but you're not ducking out." She smiles a little. "I'll get Yuri to make it an official request if that helps."

Sander smirks at the discussion between Faith and Catherine, but doesn't miss Tormod and his companion entering. His attention is on the new arrivals immediately, but it's moderated. Staring is both rude and suspicious, after all.

Heidi slinks into her chair, lazily hooking a denim-clad leg over the arm of it as she makes herself comfortable. She's on the verge of saying something else, when her slate gray eyes light up at the spread on display, "Ooh," She streeetches all the way forward, to pick out a steak fry from the basket, and then leans back to munch on it. She slants a look back at Catherine when she mentions being scared, "A little fear of the unknown is healthy," She reassures her. Then she gets to the punch line, "A camping trip! For the mmm, survivalists among us. Maybe a little hunting," She mimes sighting down a scope, "Do you hunt?" She wonders as an aside to Faith.

As for heels and dresses, Heidi just smiles, "I've never been to a ball before. Except, the um, kicking kind."

For those who might notice such things, The Arabic man with Tormod holds himself like someone with military training, The slight raise in his jacket on the left side the tell-tale signs of a weapon. As Tormod and his companion settle in at the bar Tormod is quickly handed off a beer by the bartender, The other man taking a ice water as the pair begin to look over the menu. If they know they are being watched it certainly doesn't show within the behavior of either man.

While Sander and Lleu are pseudo-tracking the two at the bar, Faith launches a meatball at Catherine without a word of warning. "I like big game.." she tells Heidi while she's still glaring at Catherine over the table.

Catherine laughs and doesn't quite dodge. She gets a napikin and wipes the sauces up. "Just think about it...seriously." She nods at Heidi, "Count me in. I..." her phoen starts to buzz and she pulls it out, then smiles. "I gotta go, that was Yuri." She gets up. "Sorry guys, the handsome lawyer's calling."

Sander blows out in mild surprise, though he knows this happens. "Handsome lawyer beats free dinner, yeah, we get it." He smirks. "Go, have some fun."

Catherine leaves Smoke and Barley through an ornate wooden door.

Heidi smiles at Faith, as she polishes off the steak fry and then cleans her fingertips on a little white napkin, "As big as you can handle," She smiles, "And as mean as a rabid water buffalo." She twists a bit in her seat when Catherine moves to stand up, looking up at her and nodding once, "Great! I'll let you know the time, later." She then waggles her fingers at the departing woman in an amiable farewell.

Lleu flicks his gaze to Catherine, "Catch you later, Walks Far." Donnachaidh briefly looks to Heidi and faintly smiles, "Definitely enjoy motorcycles, hiking, camping and hunting." A slight huff of amusement out of him at Faith going on about not wanting to attend any Police balls. He picks up his utensils and starts to cut into his steak, though Donnachaidh's keeping an eye on the two who just came in. He leans over a little closer to Donahue to say something low to her.

You whisper "You ever seen either of them in here before? Maybe Sander? At least one of them looks to be packing." to Faith.

Faith snorts at Catherine as she takes leave, but then lifts her attention to the two at the bar as Lleu speaks softly to her at the table. A hand rises and she waves openly at Tormod, before she turns her attention back to Heidi and lets her know, "It sounds like a blast.. Dragomir let me in on a bit of it. But I gotta tell you, if anyone expects me to do more than a long weekend without flush toilets they can kiss my ass." She then adds something more quietly at the table.

It doesn't take long for the pair to make up their minds, The menus tossed down and a few togo orders of ribs and potato skins placed before they settle in to wait. Tormod slowly turning to look the place over once more as he raises his beer mug up. A sip taken as Tormod finally notices the presence of Faith. A dip of his head given to the woman even as he lowers the beer looking over the others at the table with her.

At your table, Faith says "He's not the drone you're looking for. Trust me on this.. leave those guys to their business."

Heidi stretches out in such a way as to snatch up another steak fry. She laughs softly at Faith's snorted words, then nods once or twice at the mention of Dragomir, "Yeah. We just need to get together and figure out the logistics. What weekends would work best for everyone," Then she smiles, "I already have somethin lined up for us." She falls silent for a few moments as Faith and Lleu briefly confer with each other. She stretches about to lazily glance in the direction of the bar, then she returns her attention to the table.

At your table, Lleutrim looks back to Faith and lifts a brow, "You know them, then?"

At your table, Sander looks skeptical. "How do you... eh, never mind." He looks at Lleu. "She knows what she's doing."

Sander responds quietly in turn, but he seems calmer afterward. "Anyone want something else?" he asks the table, not loudly, but audibly.

Whatever is discussed low at their table, Lleu gives Faith and Sander a nod when they answer his question about the two strangers at the other table. Donnachaidh eats some of his steak, still watchful in general but relaxed enough to drink some of his ale along with his meal. To Heidi he says, "I don't know precisely what my schedule is coming up. I'm new with the Department. They have me working weekends at the moment." His mouth twists into a lopsided smile and he adds to Faith, "I'd like to see you in a fancy dress for a ball."

With a nod of her head to Heidi, Faith answers "Sounds like a plan. Here.. I can give you my number and you can text.." she then turns with her steak knife in hand and drops the point at Lleu's chest. "And you can shut the fuck up.. because I didn't lose any bets. I am not wedging myself into some tight ass piece of fabric and walking on stilts in front of half the department and every stuffed shirt in the city. Fuck that twice like a ten dollar whore."

Sander puts a hand on Faith's shoulder, as gently as he can. "Please set that back on the table and take a few breaths." He's not exactly relaxed himself now.

Tormod's brow raises as he watches that table that Faith sits at with the others, The man studying the group a few moments before leaning in to murmur something to Amon. Moments later he is raising up from his stool to begin wandering over towards the table with Heidi, Lleutrim, Faith and Sander. The beer given another sip to wet his lips and throat as he heads over, When the mug lowers the large nordic looking man focuses upon Faith as he greets her. "Now now officer, if your gonna knife someone at least have the decency to do it in the alley." Amusement showing in his tone as he glances between her and Lleutrim only to moments later focus on Sander, "Might watch your fingers, Could lose a finger with that one." His nostrils flaring either through a cold or some other reason moments after the words leave him.

Heidi twists about in her seat, in such a way until she can slip a smartphone from her denim pocket. She then makes herself comfortable again, with her leg hooked over the arm of the chair, as she swipes the screen. She then licks a bit of steak fry grease off her finger and then wipes her sticky finger onto her jeans, before returning to the task at hand, "All right. Gimme yo digits," She attempts to affect an American accent. Provided that Faith complies, she'll tippy tap her number into her contact list, "I'll send you a text, later." Then she waggles an eyebrow at the mention of dresses and heels, "I like heels. I rarely get the chance to wear them, though." She wrinkles her nose, "I don't even know if I still own a dress. I had one, when I was in the Free State." She trails off when Tormod approaches them, regarding him curiously.

Lleutrim actually laughs at the knife dropped to point at his chest and puts up his hands, "Whoa, calm down, Sergeant. You'll scare the steak off my plate. Play nice." He picks up his ale and lifts a brow at Faith. Soon as Tormod's coming over though, his attention is on that fella, watching him rather than Faith, even if she's the one with the knife.

The blade slowly pivots around and the knife is placed on the table. "Detective Sander.. Officer Donnachaidh, Miss Heidi.. this is Mr. Tormod, a friend of the owner of this fine establishment." Faith looks up at the gentleman who has approached the table and opens her hands. "Would you and your companion care to join us Sir? I can mind my manners."

She adds her number for Heidi, remembering the woman asked for it - as the tall blond shrugs her shoulder under Sander's fingers.

Sander nods once, removing his hand, which returns to rest on the table, and looking at Tormod with some scrutiny. "Is that so?" he asks, with a glance to Faith. "As she said, please have a seat if you like."

Heidi contorts herself in such a fashion that allows her to slip her phone back into her pocket. Then she peers around the table, until she spots the beer that Merek left untouched when he left. She'll reach forward to claim it for herself, taking a nursing sip from it. She smiles at the mention of her name, "Are we minding our manners now?"

The words from Faith and her introduction of him has Tormod's brow raising before he just chuckles, "Actually last name's Larsen but close enough there Faith." Tormod's gaze shifting to look over the others dipping his head to each in turn before refocusing on Faith. The invitation from the woman gain's a small shake of Tormod's head as he motions back towards Amon, "We have a shipment of new optics and a few new rifles coming in so need to be at the shop otherwise would love to join you all. Maybe another time, Just came over to get get something to take back with us.." The man offering up as explaination before he adds, "Got a sale going on right now actually for the fourth, Additional savings for cops or military." A shrug given before he is looking over towards Heidi, "Depends on the day I suppose." A playful tone holding to the words before he is looking over towards Sander, "Hm? My name, yeah.. Welcome to run my prints if you don't believe me. But just gonna waste your time and look dumb as fuck..Or you meaning about the owner? Either way..Yeah that's so.."

Nope, he completely refused to get tensed up at Faith's pointing a knife at him. Donnachaidh cuts more of his steak and keeps eating, watching the others and listening. He gives the new arrival a nod and when his mouth is clear he gives a nod, "Tormod." Larson's comment about a shipment has Lleutrim's interest. "You have a business card for this sale?"

"He won't.. Mr. Larsen." Faith cuts Sander a frank, almost scathing look. "Mr. Makarov would take your civil suit on in a heartbeat.. the department doesn't need to be paying out for harassment. Do we detective?" She picks up her fork and stabs a piece of the barbecue on her plate. "Thank you for running the special too. I'll put a flier up at the department if you have your staff email me a copy, Sir."

Sander narrows his eyes. It seems at first like he's being disrespected, and he's not too happy about it. But he listens, and bears himself up: "My meaning was, I trust Sergeant Donohue. I was just a little surprised. No harm done?" He offers a hand.

Heidi is suddenly startled in such a way that her leg jerks, impacting with the table and causing it to rattle a bit, by the chirrupy vibrating sensation on the inside of her wrist. She tugs her sleeve back, just far enough to glance at the chronometer on the inside of her wrist, furrowing her brow at it, "Erf," She mumbles to herself, before moving to straighten up, "I need to call my uncle." Then she flashes a smile at Lleu and Sander, "It was nice meeting you two," then a grin to Faith as she stands, "You and I should definitely get a drink soon."

The question from Lleutrim has Tormod chuckling softly, "Yeah I got one, though honestly if you can find this place you can find mine. Only place to get guns on the block, legally at least. Illegally, well be needing to ask someone else about that. But suppose that's why you cops got those informants and shit right?" A shrug given before he nods hearing the words from Faith looking back to her, "Sure I will get one sent to you, Or can just stop in when your done here. Ring the buzzer and we will let you in since likely be a late night at the shop." When he hears the words from Sander the nordic looking man looks to him and just grins, "No worries, Just busting balls. Gotten asked more than once about my name around here. Had to move to the one place where I look just enough like some dick bag to get heat for it." The larger man at least seeming to have a sense of humor over it in some ways. When Heidi begins to move to get ready to apparently leave Tormod steps back from the table offering her a small yet warm smile.

"Perfect Heidi.. text me whenever." Faith answers as she continues to watch Sander, perhaps not trusting the detective as much as he trusts her. "I'd like that Mr. Larsen, thank you.. I'll drop in of course." She lets him go on to explain the resemblance issue he's been dealing with, and seems to relax at least half a notch as things settle down.

Lleutrim lifts his half empty ale glass to Heidi, "Pleasure to meet you. Donahue here can let me know if you all schedule something for hiking and hunting. I'll see if my work schedule will permit. Goodnight." His attention goes back to listening to Tormod, "All right. I imagine I can find it then, thanks." Donnachaidh is at least picking up on how /polite/ and respectful Faith is being to this guy.

Sander nods. "Ah, yeah, we're not always perfect at matching faces. That sucks, frankly. But you seem to be doing alright, yeah?" An attempt at an upbeat note.

When Faith calls him Mr. Larsen again Tormod gives a sigh that rumbles out from him almost sounding like a near growl as he tells her, "For the last time, Just Tormod. And make sure you do, Sure we have a few things about the shop and in the workshop you might be interested in." Moments later the man is turning his focus to Lleutrim, "Likely, Just look up Larsen Armament and More." A shrug given as he offers up the name of his business. Moments later Tormod's mug is raised and the last of the beer is drained. The question from Sander has Tormod looking to the Detective, "Some days better than others but yeah, No complaints from me on how things are in the city for me.."

Faith's face pinches up, but there's actually no comment from Faith other then, "Of course, Tormod." She drains the remainder of her glass of dark ale and looks over at Lleu. "I'm gonna have to go running after inhaling half a cow and a barrel of ale. You up for a brisk hike or something tomorrow?" Quiet possibly the least elegant change of subject thus far tonight.

Donnachaidh reaches over to pick up the pitcher of dark ale and pours himself a refill, "Thanks, I'll do that. I would like to pick up a few things that didn't belong to the Department." Lleu looks back over to Faith, "Of course. Maybe even a late night run on the beach. After eating this steak I have plenty of protein to use. You loan me that spare motorcycle again and I'm happy to go hiking tomorrow. Show me the sights." He has in point of fact demolished that big steak and most of his salad.

Sander gives Lleu a *look* as he hints at what he's going to pick up. "Well. You all have a good night. Thanks for buying, Sarge." He exits, and seems relieved to do so.

Sander leaves Smoke and Barley through an ornate wooden door.

The words from Faith have Tormod glancing her way offering a small smile before he looks to Lleutrim, "Of course, We can certainly help with that. Amon there handles all the custom work and makes sure everything is ready for use and guaranteed." The large man motioning back to his waiting arabic companion at the bar before he is looking to Sander giving the man a small wave. Moments later the order comes up at the bar and Amon is calling out for Tormod.

"Always welcome detective.." Faith answers after Sander, sitting back in her chair a little more and letting her hands drift down. It's about the time the door swings closed behind the man that she says, "God he's such a twat." She blinks then and lifts a hand to point at the empty ale glass. Because clearly, alcohol fueled that statement.

Lleutrim drinks his ale and cocks his head to look at Faith, "Your sticking a knife to me rattled him. I admit, it surprised me, too. It's no surprise if he's touchy after what he told me happened last May." He studies Amon over there a moment longer but he's more relaxed now about him and Tormod since Faith vouches for them. There has been good steak, plenty to drink, and good company despite the occational steak knife waved around. Not a bad evening.

The large man standing near Faith and Leutrim's table gives a small wave to the woman, "Don't forget to stop in Faith, Discuss a few things and look over some of the stock and get that flyer..Enjoy your meal." The man moments later looking back to Lleutrim, "Call ahead and I will make sure I am at the shop when you swing through to look into that gear. Was nice meeting you." Amon having already handled paying for the food begining to make his way to the exit to wait on Tormod.

Tormod gets a thumbs up and a wave. But, incredulous. That's the look on her face for a moment before Faith speaks to Lleu. "I pointed at you with what I happened to have in my hand, while we were having a discussion about silk stockings and high heels. If you felt concerned for even a split second, you need to hand in the badge and pick up a set of balls before you go buy your toys. Not only would that flimsy knife have no chance in hell of penetrating your sternum.. which is where I pointed it.. you probably could have disarmed me with two fingers before I even poked you with it. Unless I have a gun in my hand, I'm about as dangerous as a Furby."

Lleutrim chuckles at what Faith says and puts his ale glass down, "No need to get anything in a twist. It wasn't me you upset. I think it was Sander. I didn't spend years in the Marine Corps to get put off at the dinner table." He gives her a look, "But since you /are/ kind of wound up tonight, I'll head on out. Go get that run in on the beach like I mentioned." Donnachaidh moves to stand and pulls out his wallet to add at least one or two twenties to pitch in for the tip since Faith said she was treating them all to dinner. "Thanks for supper." An up nod to Tormod, "I'll stop by sometime. Thanks." Time for him to head out.

Faith sits back in the chair to watch him go, she doesn't call out or disagree.. her eyes drop to the table with a pinched expression that's more disheartened than anything.