Dive Bar (Rafael/Open/Plot) - The Eagle's Nest

It was a dive. But occasionally, some of the most interesting people could be met at a dive. Which is why she was at a dive. She didn't pay attention to stares -- good or bad -- that came her way. She ordered a beer, looked for a table to perch at, found one, sat down and propped her booted feet up on the chair across from her.

The Mexican walked out of a back room, along with two others. They looked like they belonged here, in this kind of place. The other two went their way, heading over to others and then out. The Mexican headed to the bar. He was dressed in a leather jacket over a T-shirt. With a word he ordered a drink and a beer then turned around and looked at the others in the room.

Interesting. Not so much that it was a Mexican -- well, it was, but not for the reasons that he might have thought at first. It was interesting because she got the impression from this place that it was a bikers-only-good-ole-boys redneck sort of place. And they usually don't take kindly to things like... Mexicans.

So it was either that she had gotten the completely wrong impression. Or that the boy had balls. Either way, she simply lifted the bottle in her hand toward him in a kind-of salute and took a long drink from it.

He did have balls. And he had just managed to make two fueding sides see how to help each opther and make twice as much money and loose half as many lives. It wasn't a total cease fire, but it was a hell of a first step.

And he never showed fear. He saw the lovely woman lift her glass to him and lifted his back at her. He drank the shot down quick and made his way over to her.

"This seat taken?"

She used one of her booted feet to push the chair out and toward him.

"Once your ass is in it, it will be."

Her accent was thick and British.

He took the chair and sat down. He sat back and took a drink. She would notice he moved his chair so he could see most of the place but also her. His own accent was pure Mexico, but not so thick that it made any problem understanding him.

"Then its my chair. You're new."

She smirked and picked up her bottle.

"And you aren't. How very astute of you."

He nodded as he took a drink.

"I have a gift for stating what should be obvious. Mostly because many don't see. So what are you doing here? You can fit in, but this isn't where you belong."

Her brows rose.

"Right now, I'm drinking. What makes you think I don't belong here?"

He looked at her closely.

"I have a way of seeing people, of knowing where they belong. It has kept me alive more often than not. Also know how to look more in place."

The other brow rose as well.

"And where is it that I belong, then?"

He shrugged.

"Not sure yet. I don't know you well enough yet."

"And yet you are certain that it isn't here?"

He sipped on his beer and looked at her, quiet for a moment but looking into her eyes.

"Am I wrong?"

She leaned slightly forward.

"Depends on your definition of 'here' I suppose."

He stayed where he was looking at her. Her leaning forward was interesting, but not so much he couldn't play it cool.

"And how do you define it right now?"

She tilted her head -- to the left.

"I'm trying to figure out if you're trying to keep me safe and give me a warning... or if you're trying to scare me."

She leaned back with a shrug.

"So I guess I'm not defining it right now at all."

Which was probably interesting in and of itself. She wasn't the least bit worried about herself. Here. No matter what he might have defined it as.

He smiled now. It was not something he did often.

"I figure you can take care of yourself. I am not scaring you or keeping you safe. I am just telling you what I see. Well, some of what I see."

He finished his beer.

"You want another one? And maybe a shot."

She finished her own beer and gave him a grin.

"Love one. But next round is on me."

He nodded and signaled for two more beers and two shots.

"It will be all yours. So you come out here for nostalgia or looking for a little excitement?"

She snorted softly.

"Excitement? Is there any excitement to be had?"

He leaned back a little.

"If you know where to find it. Largely depends on what kind of excitement you are looking for. What do you find exciting?"

She smirked.

"Not likely the things that you would find exciting."

He shrugged.

"Never going to find out till you tell me what it is. So what floats your boat, Chica?"

She laughed softly.

"Fast cars, dangerous men and liquor that burns as much coming up as it does going down."