A Year's Worth of Cocktails, part 7 - September

by TriaKane

Summary:

(Sorry this is starting 12 days late, September is sucking for me!)

Let’s not begin with the question, “why did it take you six weeks to buy a new calendar?” but instead, let’s just move ahead with the ideas that, “A year’s worth of cocktails”, will conjure. Just the name... “cock” and “tails”... oh, my… sounds like somebody might get lucky. Will label fandom and possible pairing at the beginning of each chapter.

Also, if anyone wants to "pinch hit" a day, in any fandom, just email me and I can give you the cocktail name and ingredients. tria.kane11 at gmail dot com

If you bookmark (or subscribe, I can't remember) the story, you will get an email update as I post each day's cocktail and the fandom.

Notes:

Guest Author - Pattrose. Fandom - NCIS. Friendship.

Chapter 1: NCIS

Ducky got done with all of his paperwork and decided that he would go and find Abigail and see if she wanted to have a drink. Ducky knew that everyone else was already gone for the evening, but Abigail had called him a few minutes ago for an update on something she had been working on. It was going to be perfect. He had a special drink to share with Abigail and hoped she wasn’t too busy to go with him. Ducky truly enjoyed being in Abigail’s company; he only hoped she enjoyed his company as much.

When Ducky walked through the door to Forensics, he smiled when he saw Abigail dancing while listening to music. Abby saw that Ducky had entered the room and immediately smiled. “I thought I was the only one left in the building tonight. I figured you might have left. I’m finally finished. Would you care to join me for a drink, Ducky? I feel like celebrating.”

“You did a very good job today, Abigail. I’m always proud of your work, but today you excelled. I came up to see if you wanted to join me for a drink. Great minds think alike.”

“Do you want to walk, if you’re not too tired, since it’s so close?” Abby asked.

“Yes, a nice walk in the evening always makes things better,” Ducky replied.

They walked side by side Abby talking as much as she usually did, making Ducky smile the entire way to the bar. Once inside, they got a booth and sat down opposite each other.

The waitress came up and asked, “Do you know what you would like tonight?”

“If you’ll allow me to order for you, Abigail, I have a new drink for you to try. It’s very tasty and you’re going to like it very much.”

“Sounds good to me, Ducky. Order, away.”

Ducky turned to the waitress and said, “We would like two Abbie Dabbie’s, please.”

Abby laughed and then continued to smile as the waitress left. “Where did you hear about this, Ducky and what’s in it?”

“I had one last week and knew I had to bring you to try it out. It’s two shots of Vodka, two shots of melon liqueur and three shots of apple juice. They pour it over ice and serve it in a Collins glass. And speaking of it, here they come. You’re going to love this drink, Abigail.”

Abby smiled at the waitress when she set down the drink. It did look very good. As soon as she left, Abby picked her drink up and said, “Here’s to us for finishing another case, with time to spare, Ducky.”

Ducky picked his up and clinked it next to Abigail’s and said, “Cheers, Abigail.”

They both took a drink and Abby said, “This is delicious, Ducky. Thank you for asking me to come. I was hoping you would be willing to come along for a drink.”

They talked about everything that had gone right with the case and everything that could have gone wrong. Then they ordered another drink and Ducky was pleased to see Abigail order another Abbie Dabbie.

The waitress walked away from the table smiling at the colleague’s closeness. She liked Ducky and Abby. What a wonderful way to end an evening.

Chapter 2: September 2 - Tyrant

Summary:

Tyrant.

“Here, you need this more than I do,” John Tucker said.

He handed her a tall ice filled glass with light blue liquid.

“What is it?” Molly asked, taking the glass.

“We call it an Embassy Iced Tea,” he told her. “Blue Curacao, vodka, light rum, cachaca and lemon-lime soda.”

Molly took a long sip from the straw. Even though she was relieved her children and sister were safe with her at the American Embassy in Abbudin, she was going out of her mind with worry about Barry. There had been no word, and that alone was enough for her to drain her drink and go in search of another.

Chapter 3: September 3 - Major Crimes

Summary:

Guest Author - Pattrose. Fandom - Major Crimes. Friendship.

Andy walked over to Provenza’s desk and asked, “Would you like to have dinner with me and Rusty tonight?”

“Just you and Rusty?” Provenza inquired.

“The Captain has a meeting, so our date for tonight got cancelled. I thought we could all go to Claim Jumper and have dinner and you can have a drink.”

“You can have a drink, too. And for all that’s worth, so can Rusty as long as it’s non-alcoholic.” Provenza smiled.

“I’m ready whenever you are, Provenza.”

Provenza got out of his chair, grabbed his suit coat and put it on and said, “I’m ready as I’ll ever be.”

The two men stopped by the break room, grabbed the 18 year old Rusty and walked down to Provenza’s car. Andy knew that Provenza didn’t like anyone else to drive.

Once they arrived at Claim Jumper, they were seated right away and the waitress asked them if she could get some drinks for the men.

Provenza smiled and said, “I would like a rum and coke, please.”

“And we would like two non-alcoholic drinks. What do you suggest for this evening?” Andy asked.

The waitress was ready for this question. “I have the perfect drink for you both. It’s called a Banana Boat and I’ll bring your drinks out in a moment. Feel free to look over the menu.”

All of them did, Rusty was getting a hamburger, so that was easy enough to remember. Andy and Louie both decided on steaks, so they were ready to order when she arrived with their drinks.

“Rum and coke for you, sir. And two Banana Boats for you two gentlemen.” She set down the hurricane glasses filled with a drink that looked pretty darn good.

“What’s in this, anyhow?” Andy asked.

“Bananas, coconut cream, pineapple juice and milk all blended together. Are you ready to order?”

They all ordered their meals and Rusty was the first one to try the Banana Boat. “Wow, this is really good, Detective.”

“Rusty, you can call me Andy if you’d like.” Flynn was trying to make the young man more comfortable.

“Detective rolls off the tongue a lot easier then Andy. Just like I call him, Lieutenant.” Rusty pointed at Provenza and smiled. Rusty still was a little uneasy being the newly adopted son of the captain of Major Crimes.

“Whatever makes you happy, Rusty,” Louie answered.

Flynn took a drink of the Banana Boat and smiled. “You’re right, Rusty, this is delicious. I’m glad we let her make the choice for us.”

The men sat and ate their dinner and drank their drinks. Andy was impressed that Louie ordered a non-alcoholic drink just like they were drinking. He wanted to be able to drive.

The evening went quickly and happily. All three of the men had a good time in each other’s company. This is what friends were all about.

Although, Andy Flynn hoped that someday he would actually be more than friends with Captain Sharon Raydor. He could dream, anyhow.

Chapter 4: September 4 - Dexter

Summary:

Guest Author - Pattrose. Fandom - Dexter. Family.

Dexter Morgan was cleaning up the kitchen after putting his son, Harrison to bed for the night. Dexter had time to think about some things in the peace and quiet. There was a new case and the man might walk if it continued to look like it did now. Dexter would have a new person to show the light to. He had no sooner finished the kitchen when the phone rang and he answered quickly.

“Morgan…”

“Dexter, I’m on my way over. I have some things to discuss with you, not to mention, I’m bringing some ingredients for a fucking wicked drink. You’re going to fucking love it.”

“Deb, you’re making me into a drunk. I have enough problems as it is. Being a drunk doesn’t need to be added to the list.”

She totally ignored his remarks and said, “I’m here now. The cab is dropping me the fuck off.”

About two minutes later, there was a soft knock at the door and Dexter opened it, knowing that he wasn’t going to have any down time that night. “Come on in, Deb.”

She was carrying a couple of bags and said, “I brought the makings for a fucking wicked drink.”

“You mentioned the wicked drink. What it is?” Dexter wondered.

“It’s called Acid Cookie. It sounds fucking horrible, but the flavor is great. Sit down and take a fucking load off. I’m going to make it up right now,” Deb said as she moved into his small kitchen.

“I’ll talk to you while you make it. You said you wanted to talk to me about something,” Dexter said.

“Fuck, if I remember now. I’ve had a couple of these already.” Deb poured equal amounts of Irish Cream Liqueur, Butterscotch Schnapps, Hot Damn! Cinnamon Schnapps and a splash of 151 proof rum into a shaker of ice, shook it up and strained it into two shot glasses and then handed one to Dexter with a huge smile on her face. “Drink the fuck up, Dexter.”

Dexter took the shot and threw his head back, swallowing it fast. He had to admit, it was tasty. Very different, but good at the same time. “I like it, Deb. Thank you.”

“I knew you would fucking love it. I just knew it.” She downed her drink and began to build the next ones. “I wish I could remember what I wanted to talk to you about, Dexter.”

“Maybe you’ll remember by morning,” Dexter said.

“Remember what?” Deb asked.

“I think you might have had enough to drink for tonight. This will be our last ones, okay?”

“Okay, Dexter. Fuck, these are good, aren’t they?”

Dexter nodded his head and smiled. “You made another good drink, Deb. Thank you.”

“Can I sleep on your fucking sofa tonight?”

“I wouldn’t have you anywhere else. Now let me get your blanket, sheets and a pillow. Try to ignore Harrison in the morning.”

When Dexter brought the things over to her on the sofa, she smiled. “I would never ignore my fucking nephew. He’s my life, Dexter. I adore him.”

“Go to sleep, Deb and we’ll talk in the morning. I love you, little sister.”

“Goodnight Dexter. I hope you fucking sleep well.”

He glanced over at her and she was already asleep on the sofa. She didn’t even get the bed made up. Dexter covered her up with the blanket, turned off the lights and went into his room to get ready for bed. He really did wonder what Deb had wanted to talk about. Maybe she had some ideas about the new perp. Dexter could only hope.

Chapter 5: September 5 - Almost Human

Summary:

Guest Author - Pattrose. Fandom - Almost Human. Pairing - John/Dorian.

While at the station, John noticed that Dorian was talking with Richard Paul. This didn’t happen too often, so John did indeed take notice. What was Dorian up to? What was Richard up to? When Dorian came back over and sat down, it was like none of it had even taken place. This irritated John to no end. Well, two could play at this game. John was going to pretend like he didn’t care what Dorian was talking to Richard about. (Even though it was driving him nuts.)

Once they got home Dorian said, “I’ll make dinner. Why don’t you shower and relax, John?”

“Sounds good. What am I having for dinner?”

Dorian smiled and answered, “Steak and baked potato. And I’m making you a drink to go with dinner.”

“Okay, I’ll be back, shortly,” John said as he walked into their room.

Dorian started dinner and took a shot glass and got the ingredients down from the cupboard. The drink was called a Flaming Licorice and Dorian couldn’t wait to see if John liked it. Richard had assured Dorian it would be delicious.

He put one part Jägermeister, one part Sambuca, one part 151 proof rum and took the shot glass filled with the liquid out to the dining room. When John walked out he saw the drink and said, “A shot. Interesting.”

“A flaming shot. After I extinguish the flame, drink it and then let me taste your lips.” Dorian lit the shot and watched it burn and licked his palm and extinguished it for John. “Drink up, John.”

John grabbed the shot glass and leaned back and drank it in one gulp. Then he made a terrible face. He pulled Dorian in for a kiss and let him taste the flavor on his lips and Dorian pulled back and said, “That is awful, John.”

“Who gave you this recipe, Dorian?” John knew very well who gave it to him, but he was playing dumb.

“Richard gave me the recipe and said you would love it. He lied didn’t he?”

“He did, Dorian. Now, next time don’t ever listen to anything Richard has to say.”

John went to kiss Dorian and Dorian pulled back. “Let’s get something else for you to drink, John. That flavor on your lips has got to go.”

Dorian made him a quick drink that he knew John enjoyed and then after John drank it, they kissed. The flavor was still there a little bit, but Dorian didn’t have the heart to say anything to John about it.

“Sit down, John and I’ll bring your dinner out.”

“Thank you for making dinner. It’s extremely nice since you don’t get to eat. You always do this for me. I’m starting to get spoiled, Dorian.”

“You can spoil me after dinner, in the bedroom. How does that sound?”

“Like a plan, Dorian.”

Chapter 6: September 6 - Mistresses

Summary:

Mistresses. Friendship or...

Harry set the plate of sliced kiwis beside the shot glass.

“Okay, you ready?” he asked, quirking up an eyebrow.

“Hit me,” Joss said, ready for anything.

Harry poured a shot of top shelf vodka, then shook 6 drops of Tabasco sauce into it.

“It's called an Estonian Forest Fire.”

Joss raised her eyebrows.

“Just try it. Shoot it and then chase it with a slice of kiwi.” He pushed the shot glass and plate closer.

Shaking off her skepticism, Joss did as directed; she trusted Harry implicitly when it came to things that tasted good.

She shook her head, smiling, “Harry, that’s amazing!”

He glowed under her praise. She really was lovely when she smiled.

WHAT!?

Chapter 7: September 7 - Sentinel

Summary:

Sentinel. Friendship.

Jim cleared the dishes while Blair put the leftovers away.

“Want some coffee? Blair asked.

Simon smiled and nodded before pulling out a cigar. Jim frowned and shook his head.

“I know, I know,” Simon said. “I’m just holding it.”

Blair carried the full coffee pot and three mugs to the table, Jim followed with a bottle of coconut flavored liqueur and one of almond syrup.

“Need a little Bounce?” Blair asked with a grin.

“Have I ever turned down anything you offer me?” Simon said with a shrug.

“What about the octopus I offered you a couple months ago?” Blair asked, winking at Jim.

“Sandburg, anything that won’t let go of the plate, shouldn’t be eaten!”

They all laughed.

Blair added a healthy shot of the coconut-flavored liqueur and a little less of the almond syrup before pouring the steaming coffee into the mugs, releasing the pleasant coconut-almond flavor scent.

Jim slid a mug to Simon and took one for himself.

“I think this is better than you’re flavored coffees,” Jim said with a smirk.

Simon merely nodded, sipping the delightful Bounce.

Chapter 8: September 8 - Leverage

Summary:

Leverage. Eliot. :)

Autumn in Boston was Eliot’s favorite time of year. He loved watching the leaves change from green to yellow and orange. He liked the cooler breeze as he walked the streetlamp lit streets at night. Living in the city was nothing like the life he’d known growing up in the country, and he’d travelled a lot since he’d left, but he still preferred the east coast in the autumn.

After a late night walk home from the ‘T’ stop, he let himself into his condo. It was quiet and still, just as he’d left it.

He poured some apple cider into a small sauce pan and turned the heat on low, letting it heat up slowly, before setting a mug on the counter. Taking apricot brandy and Southern Comfort from his liquor cabinet, he poured a healthy shot of each into the mug.

While he waited for the apple cider to heat up, he unlaced his boots and slid on a pair of shearling lined moccasin-style slippers. Another thing he liked about autumn was his favorite slippers. Although, he’d deny any such thing if anyone happened to ever see him in them.

Finally the apple cider was hot enough and he poured it into the mug, releasing the wonderful scents of the apricot brandy and Southern Comfort.

He carried the mug to his cushy leather chair, settled in just right and put his legs up on the ottoman.

“Ah,” he said and then took a sip of his drink. “Perfect.”

Setting the mug on the arm of the chair, Eliot picked up the current book he was reading—a biography about Sir Walter Raleigh, and relaxed with his Bun Warmer.

Chapter 9: September 9 - due South

Summary:

Guest Author - katieB_29. Fandom - due South. Pairing - Fraser/Kowalski. :)

The two men staggered into the hotel lobby and dropped their packs at the counter. Had he been less exhausted Ray might have felt self-conscious about his haggard appearance, but he was too focused on sleeping inside, on a real bed, after haven taken a long, hot shower.

Fraser was talking to the clerk in his usual ultra-polite, Canadian way arranging something, but all Ray heard were the magic words “room service” and “pizza.” His mouth actually started to water at the thought of all the pleasures awaiting him, and he hit his breaking point. “Come on, Frase! Let’s get going. I’m dying here!”

“Now, Ray, you may be tired and hungry, but you are not actually dying.”

“Figuratively, Frase, figuratively. Now pitter patter!” Ray jerked his head towards the elevator.

Ray let Fraser shower first, and by the time Ray stepped out of the steam, room service had sent up a tray. Ray was so singularly focused on the pizza that he failed to notice the bowl of strawberries and two flutes filled with cranberry vodka and champagne.

Ray looked at Fraser and couldn’t help but notice that he had hardly touched his pizza, and he looked nervous as hell.

“What’s wrong, Frase? Miss the pemmican already? I’m sure we still have some in one of our bags.” Ray grinned.

Fraser tugged his ear. “Uh, no, actually, Ray, I was thinking that some sort of celebration to mark the end of our journey was in order.”

“What didja have in mind?”

“Well, there is a tradition here, called the ‘Arctic Kiss’ and I thought we could…”

Before he could finish his sentence and reach for the drinks, Ray pounced. “It’s about damn time!” Ray exclaimed before knocking Fraser onto the bed and pressing a feverish kiss to his lips.

Fraser willingly surrendered to the kiss and put his arms around Ray.

After they broke apart to take a breath, Ray finally saw the strawberries and drinks, and suddenly became nervous. “Wait; is that what you are talking about?” He asked, pointing at the tray.

“Well, Ray, it was, but now I think your idea will mark the occasion in a manner much more to our liking. Now where were we?” Fraser smiled and pulled Ray back into his arms.

Chapter 10: September 10 - Person of Interest

Summary:

Guest Author - JinkyO. Fandom - Person of Interest. Friendship. Harold Finch, John Reese, Root

Holed up in a dead zone in the meatpacking district, it was John who found her after the second day of silence. He coaxed her out of the dark warehouse, threw his arm over her shoulders and guided her, back flat against the maze of corrugated tin walls, to the waiting car at the loading dock. John eased her into the back seat and tossed a blanket over her before slamming the door and jumping into the passenger seat. Harold shifted into drive and they were going so fast and they drove so long and she realized they would not be picking up anymore passengers. That's when she gave up hope.

Harold finally stopped the car at a small airfield. John replaced the blanket with his jacket. He finger combed her tangled curls as best he could then perched a pair of dark glasses on her face. His arm firm at her waist, he held her close as they followed Harold to the gate, and after a few quick punches of the keypad lock, through the gate, past the hangers, onto the apron. John had them onboard the cargo plane, emblazoned with the red and gold Kahlúa logo, in under a minute. Harold had them in the air in under three. The New York City skyline fell away and there was nothing but wide blue ocean below. That's when Root finally accepted the silence.

“Pull up! Pull up!”

Harold white knuckled the control wheel. John clutched the throttle levers. The warning horns competed with the loud shake of the yoke and the insistent mechanical plea: “Pull up! Pull up!”

In the end it would come down to Harold and his poorly socialized guard dog. Her equilibrium was shot. She couldn't feel how fast or how far they were falling from the sky. Root turned a deaf ear to the frenzy of the cockpit and pressed her nose to the window. A speck of land, surrounded by so much blue, rushing up to meet her. Root smiled.

But they didn't die.

John was clutching Harold to his body and screaming across the cold waves at her, “Swim!” And she swam. She navigated the wooden freight crates that bobbed in the water. She caught hold of an emergency raft that had, inexplicably, escaped the water landing. They gathered what they could between the ocean and the rocky beach ahead.

What they didn't load into the raft came in later with the tide. Smashed open cases of Kahlúa and Havana Club rum. Bottles of Absolute vodka, Pernod absinthe, Jameson's and Glenlivet, and water, hundreds of intact bottles washed up on the shore.

He was repeating himself now, slower. “Look for fire wood. Don't stray from the beach. Root, are you listening to me?”

No.

John's hands were warm on her shoulders, he looked past her, to Harold, barefoot, trousers rolled to his knees, hand shading his eyes as he scanned the empty horizon.

“Leave her here, John. I'll look for wood. We still have a few hours of daylight.”

“Harold, I'm not going to -”

“John. Leave her be. Ms. Groves is in no condition to help us at the moment. Bring her over. I'll keep an eye on her. We need you to get up to that crest to see what we've gotten ourselves into.”

“An alcoholic's paradise,” she murmured as John walked her inland to the raft and their rough base camp. The waves were still delivering bottles. Then John was gone, and after a while Harold left too and it was just her and the ocean and the silence.

Harold had a fire going by the time John returned. He had scavenged the flight crew bags and plastic coolers that floated in with the bottles as well. They ate a dinner of roasted fish and raw coconuts. Harold and John discussed their dwindling options. Root wandered across the sand to their stash.

She felt tropical and undone and picked up two sand crusted bottles; Kahlúa and rum. One of the salvaged coolers was still packed for airplane coffee service. A warm carton of cream, soggy sugar packets, stir sticks, shrink-wrapped paper cups.

“We haven't seen a boat all day. I suppose it's safe to say we veered off of the main shipping lanes. And a rescue fire is out of the question.”

“So...?” John dragged lines in the sand with his finger.

“So, I don't know. You didn't see any neighboring islands but that doesn't mean there aren't local fishermen. We sleep. We see what the morning brings.”

“We drink,” Root said, sitting down by the fire with her booty in hand. “We drink and watch the sunset.”

“Ms. Groves -”

“Shh. We drink.” She ignored the look that passed between the two men while she filled their cups: a generous shot of the coffee liqueur, a heavy pour of rum, the cream. “High Jamaican Wind, one of Sameen's favorites,” she said passing each cup along after she made it. “It would be better with ice. Maybe we'll get some of that in the morning too?”

They drank until the bottles rolled towards the fire, empty. John had built a rough lean-to and sleeping mat of coconut leaves against the bluff earlier. Now, he settled Harold farthest into the fragile shelter then nudged Root in beside Harold. After tending the fire he finally came to join them.

Because of the drink and the swim and the crash and the heat, sleep came quickly. So did the familiar nightmare. Sameen, Daizo, Lionel... everyone. She'd fed all of it through the cochlear implant, an unrelenting stream of data. She'd called to Root as Samaritan patched the seven compromised servers and overwrote her code.

The silence startled Root out of her sleep.

John brushed a hand over her back. “It's okay, Sam. We've got you.”

Chapter 11: September 11 - Highlander

Summary:

Highlander. Duncan/Methos

“Hey, Methos,” Joe said gaily. “What brings a 5000 year old man to my bar?”

Methos looked around, but the bar was empty, so he gamely plopped down on a barstool.

“I heard you serve beer here.”

Joe laughed. “Yeah, that we do.”

Instead of grabbing a bottle of Methos’ preferred brand, Joe filled a shaker with ice, adding vodka, triple sec, lychee liqueur and vanilla liqueur. He shook the mixture and then strained it into a beer mug. Finally he held it under the tap and filled the glass.

“Oh, Joe...”

“Didn’t you hear, Methos, I’m opening a beer garden out back. This is our new signature drink. Beer Garden. Try it.” Joe slid the mug across to him.

Lychee? Really? In beer? But it was Joe, and only once every other century did Methos find a mortal he liked this much. What the hell?!

Taking a big swallow, Methos couldn’t help the look of revulsion and groan of disgust afterwards.

“That’s revolting,” Methos said, pushing the mug away. “It tastes like perfumed soap!”

“Yeah?” Joe looked quizzically at the mug. “Mac though it tasted pretty good.”

“Goes to show ya, he’s got no taste!” Methos declared. “Please, Joe, a real beer.”

“Who has no taste?” Duncan asked, taking a seat beside Methos.

“You,” Joe said, laughing and handing Methos a bottled brew.

“Really?” Duncan said huskily. “I thought you said I tasted good last night.”

Joe dropped the mug. Methos died choking. Duncan shrugged and drank the rest of his beer.

Chapter 12: September 12 - Supernatural

Summary:

Supernatural. Friendship. Gen... I know, right? Weird. ;)

Dean found Castiel—human Castiel in a bar.

“What the hell are you drinking?” Dean asked.

“Max, what am I drinking?”

The bartender came over. “It’s an Angel of Mercy.”

“No shit?” Dean said.

“No shit,” Max said with a straight face.

Dean shrugged. “Okay. How about two more of those and a beer, just in case.”

Max headed off to make the drinks. Dean kept one eye on him, and one eye on Cas.

“How long ya been here?”

Max poured a shot or so of blue Curacao into two ice filled highball glasses.

“How long is too long?” Cas said.

Dean watched Max add some orange liqueur and lime juice to the glasses before filling them with ginger ale.

Max set the glasses down in front of them, then got Dean’s beer.

“Thanks.”

Max nodded and walked away.

“To humanity,” Cas said, picking up his glass.

“To those chicks at that table back there.” Dean nodded at a table of co-eds.

“Dean, don’t you ever think about anything besides women?” Cas took a long sip of his drink.

“Sure,” Dean said, “I think about guns and cars, too.” He took sip of his drink. “What the fuck?” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “How can you drink that?” He took a long pull from his beer.

“With my mouth, Dean. How else would I drink it?” Cas said, shaking his head.

Dean rolled his eyes but laughed on the inside. Yeah, okay, Cas.

They answered the question about how long is too long to sit on a bar stool and drink. It’s right after you fall off.

Chapter 13: September 13 - Hardcastle and McCormick

Summary:

Guest Author - Pattrose. Fandom - Hardcastle and McCormick. Friendship.

For two days, Mark had been cleaning up all of the leaves in the yard. Milton looked out his window and saw about 30 bags lined up near the curb. It made him feel a little bad. He decided that he would take Mark somewhere to relax the next day. Just the two of them having a day filled with sunshine and Catalina Island. It was only about 50 minutes away from Milton’s house, so he figured it would make for a nice day trip.

The following day, Mark came over and said, “I’m ready to start on the next batch of leaves. I’ll be out there if you need me.”

“Instead, change your clothes, we’re going on a road trip. You deserve a day of rest. Come on, I’m taking you for a special drink and dinner at The Landing Bar and Grill on Catalina Island. Hurry up, or I’ll leave without you,” Milton said.

“That’s great, Judge. I’ll be right back. Would you like me to drive?”

“Yes, I would. Now hurry up.”

When Mark came walking back into the house he was dressed in Dockers and a polo shirt, looking very nice. Milton knew the kid cleaned up nicely, but he was also very fast.

They walked out to the Coyote and got in and Mark asked, “Where am I going?”

“I’ll give you directions, McCormick. Don’t worry. Just go up the highway here and I’ll tell you when to turn off.”

Once they arrived at The Landing Bar and Grill, Mark asked, “So, what is the drink’s name?”

“The drink is called Short Island Ice Tea and the food is authentic Mexican food. They also have fresh seafood, but I know you like Mexican, so therefore this place is perfect for you.”

“Judge, this is really nice of you.”

“You’ve worked hard two days in a row. I just wanted to thank you for it with a day off in between,” Milton admitted.

They sat in a booth and ordered two Short Island Ice Teas. Mark waited for the waitress to leave and asked, “What’s in it?”

“The bartender is making it now. One shot of Southern Comfort, one shot of spiced rum and a splash of sour mix. Now he’s shaking it up with ice, straining it and pouring it over ice in a high ball glass. It doesn’t sound that good, Mark, but it is. It’s very refreshing.”

The waitress brought them back to the table and set them in front of each of the men. “Would you like to order dinner?”

They had looked at the menu and knew what they wanted. They both ordered and then relaxed with their drink. Milton drank his fairly quickly, while Mark drank his very slowly. Milt could tell that Mark didn’t care for the drink.

“Would you like a beer, instead?” he asked Mark.

“No, this is good. I’m making it last, because I’m driving and don’t want to drink more than one. You go ahead and have another. I know my way home now,” Mark suggested.

Mark told him about how much more he had to do in the yard and Milton just smiled at Mark talking non-stop. It was a nice way to end a day off. And the food there was excellent. Milton had another drink, while Mark drank regular iced tea and finished his meal.

They walked up and down the street sightseeing until the sun was starting to set. Then they started the drive back home.

“Thanks for the day off, the drink and the dinner, Judge.”

“You are more than welcome. Thank you for all of your hard work.”

Chapter 14: September 14 - NCIS

Summary:

Guest Author - gibbsandtonysbabe. Fandom - NCIS. Pairing - Gibbs/DiNozzo

Tony was desperate to find something to tempt Jethro’s appetite. He wanted to find something that would soothe his throat and allow him to relax. Soup was all that he had been able to manage and it was starting to wear on the older man’s nerves.

Add to that the fact that he was never ill and very unaccustomed to long term inactivity, he hated it, and it was wreaking havoc. For a man who never had a germ dare reside in his body, when one managed to actually invade the wall, it did so with great aplomb.

Pneumonia had taken the great Leroy Jethro Gibbs down and had confined him to his bed. That had the second B for bastard out in force, okay…more in glare and thought than actual deed considering the man was weaker than he would ever admit.

Tony had finally been allowed to return home after Ducky deemed it safe and now he was in the kitchen trying to make Jethro smile. He knew firsthand what it felt like to hack up your lungs and all he wanted to do was offer relief in any form that he was able.

Looking at what was available in their kitchen he had an idea. It would give the man some relief, taste like his beloved coffee, that he hadn’t been able to drink, and a smidgen of protein-if you blinked. Hell he didn’t care how healthy it was if it made the man feel better.

He found the blender and gathered the rest of what he needed to make the Almond Velvet Hammer. For once, he was going to be able to take care of the man. Considering it was usually the other way around, he wanted to do everything he could.

Smiling at the concoction in his hand, he headed upstairs to the bedroom relieved to see Jethro sitting up in bed reading. It was a very good sign that he was actually up and engaged.

“Got something for you, Jet.” handing him a glass with a colorful straw.

Blue eyes looked over the rim of the glasses perched on his nose. “Does it come with a kiss, too?”

“I think that might be arranged.” He leaned down and placed a simple kiss on the older man’s lips. “Keep gaining strength and I might be persuaded to expand on that kiss.”

“You had better.” Gesturing towards the glass in Tony’s hand, “What’s that?”

“Something I hope that will help your throat.”

Taking the drink he rolled his eyes at the straw but then took a sip. Sighing as the cold drink slid down his throat. “God that feels good.” He took another gentle sip, “Tastes good, too. What is it?”

“Almond Velvet Hammer,” holding up his hands, “Don’t ask. I have no idea why it’s called that. It has two shots of coffee liqueur, a half shot of chocolate syrup, a tablespoon chopped almonds, vanilla ice cream and some cream. A liquored up coffee milkshake.”

“Does Ducky know you’re plying me with alcohol?” A smirk that refused to be held at bay appeared on Jethro’s face.

“No. And, if you want me to expand on that kiss he will never hear of this? Capisce?”

Chapter 15: September 15 - Good Wife

Summary:

Good Wife.

Alicia slid onto the stool. After the day she’d had, she knew she should just go home and fall into bed, but something about the way the neon light flashed in the window of the d had beckoned her.

“What can I getcha?” the bartender, Max asked.

Looking around, Alicia was undecided; she’d made so many decisions today at work that the idea of making another made her head hurt.

“How about a house specialty?”

She was skeptical but Max looked sincere and in an instant she trusted him.

“Okay.”

“And if you don’t like it, then whatever you want’s on the house.”

Alicia smiled and watched Max set to work making her drink.

First, he filled a shaker with ice, then added vodka and banana liqueur and gave it a couple shakes before straining it into a martini glass.

He set if before her with a flourish. “Banana Martini.”

Alicia laughed but picked up the glass and took a sip.

“Hmm…”

“Good or bad?” Max asked.

“Good, I think.”

“I can add some chocolate to the next one,” Max suggested.

Taking another sip, Alicia debated the merits of another drink. I mean, it was chocolate after all.

Chapter 16: September 16 - due South

Summary:

due South. RayK/Fraser... cause that's the way, uh huh, uh huh, I like it... uh huh, uh huh...

“Heya, buddy,” Ray called as Fraser slid off her parka and sat down to unlace his mukluks.

“You too, fur face.” Dief jumped up, his damp paws wetting Ray’s shirts.

“I wish you wouldn’t let him do that,” Fraser scolded. Dief ignored him. Ray waved a hand at him.

“It’s bad manners, Ray.”

“Manners schmanners,” Ray said, “he’s a wolf.”

Fraser had to agree, even if he didn’t like it.

“What are you making?” Fraser said, knowing he was losing the battle of wolf manners.

“Oh, yeah,” Ray turned back to the counter and the various alcohol bottles. “I’m tryin’ to learn how to layer.”

Fraser leaned against the counter and crossed his arms across his broad chest. “Layer?”

“Yeah,” Ray said. “See, ya gotta put ‘em in just so cause ya don’t want the liqueurs to mix.”

Fraser looked at some of Ray’s early attempts; they were cloudy, odd colored mixtures.

“So, how’s it coming?”

“Watch,” Ray said excitedly.

Into a shot glass, Ray poured a small amount of blue Curacao. Then he took the bottle of white crème de cacao and gently poured it over the back of a spoon onto the blue liqueur. Finally, he poured grenadine over the back of a spoon and it flawlessly pooled on top of the white liqueur.

“Tada!” Ray slid the glass towards Fraser.

“What is it, Ray?”

“An American Flag,” Ray said with a smile. “The good ole red, white and blue.”

Fraser tried to hide a smile, but he wasn’t very successful.

“Are you suggesting we need to take a trip back to Chicago?” Fraser asked, a little concerned.

“Deep dish pizza and the Bears, Ben,” Ray said, nudging Fraser’s shoulder. “What could be better?” Dief whined at the word ‘pizza’.

“We have bears here,” Fraser teased.

“Not the kinda bears I’m talkin’ ‘bout!”

Fraser couldn’t help himself. “I’ll put a request in for time off.”

“YES!” Ray hugged Fraser, which turned into kissing, which turned into... well, Dief was thankful, once again, that he was deaf.

Chapter 17: September 17 - Leverage

Summary:

Leverage. Friendship

“Parker, I was using that!” Eliot growled.

“Boohoo! I’ll give it back,” she said, pouring the banana liqueur into a shaker of ice.

“The hell you makin’ anyway?” he asked, watching her add peppermint schnapps and Sambuca to the shaker.

“The Action Contraction,” she said, shrugging, “duh.”

“Never heard of it.”

“Saw it on a movie last night,” she said, slicing a lemon in half while Eliot took a step back and grimaced, keeping his eyes on the knife at all times.

“Now you’re just makin’ shit up,” he said as she squeezed half a lemon into the shaker.

Parker rolled her eyes at him, capped the shaker and spun it like a she’d been doing it for years.

“Wanna try it?” she asked with a grin.

“No!” Eliot snapped. Actually, he did.

Parker poured the mixture into two shot glasses and slid one towards him.

“Ya scared?” she asked.

He was, but he scowled, shook his hair back and picked up the shot glass. What the hell? He’d had worse.

Chapter 18: September 18 - Supernatural

Summary:

Supernatural. Family.

“Ouzo, Sam, really?” Dean asked from the doorway.

Sam leaned forward and poured himself another shot. He’d settled into a darkened corner of the bunker with his bottle of Ouzo and his memories of Jess. It was her birthday and she’d been gone for nine years. Nine years. How had so much time passed? He felt guilty for moving on, but that was life, right? He knew she wouldn’t have wanted him to mourn her forever, but still, there were some days when it hurt as much as it had that first night.

Dean sat down across from Sam, set his own shot glass on the table and poured a shot.

“Fire in the Hole,” Dean said before throwing the shot back.

“Nah,” Sam laughed, “that’s when you add 2 or 3 splashes of Tabasco to it.”

“Hmm?” Dean said, already pouring another shot. He wasn’t sure what had gotten under Sam’s skin, but anything that got the kid talking was good.

“If you put Tabasco in Ouzo, it’s called a Fire in the Hole.” At Dean’s puzzled look, Sam jumped up and went to the kitchen for a bottle of Tabasco.

“Here,” Sam said, unscrewing the lid and shaking a couple splashes into Dean’s shot.

Dean shrugged and threw it back.

“Whoo!!” Dean said as he slammed the shot glass on the table. “That’ll pucker your asshole!”

Sam laughed once. Then again. And then he couldn’t stop laughing. It felt so good to let go for once.

Dean smiled and watched his baby brother laugh. There was a lot of ugly in their lives, but at that moment, Dean couldn’t think of anything more beautiful than the sound of Sammy’s laughter.

Chapter 19: September 19 - Sentinel

Summary:

Sentinel. Jim/Blair... cause that's the way it has to be :)

It was a dark and stormy night. Well, it was dark, but then again, it was almost 10pm. And it was stormy. Well, it had been stormy, but it was Cascade; they had 7 kinds of rain, after all.

Jim heard Blair’s Volvo sputter to a halt outside and dialed up his hearing a touch more, hearing Blair humming an old Beatles tune.

Glad that his guide was in a good mood, Jim headed into the kitchen, set down his mug and pulled another one down. He added a shot or so of amaretto and a splash of Frangelico to each mug before topping them off with hot coffee.

“Hey, man,” Blair said, dropping his backpack and shucking off his jacket.

Jim didn’t say anything, just smiled and nodded in the direction of the fire.

“Oh, perfect,” Blair said. “Let me just change.”

Jim sat on the blanket he’d put on the floor in front of the fire, setting their mugs nearby. Blair returned a couple minutes later, comfy in his bathrobe and thick socks.

Blair picked up his mug and took a sip.

“Mmm, this is good,” he said but anything else he might have said was lost when he saw the way Jim was looking at him.

Jim pushed Blair’s hair behind one ear, a little bit lost in the way the firelight brought out the myriad of colors within the dark curls.

“Missed you today,” Jim said softly, leaning in and softly kissing Blair’s jaw.

“Me, too,” Blair whispered. The moment was so intimate, he was afraid to speak too loudly.

Jim reached for the belt on the bathrobe and slowly pulled until it came untied, then he pushed the worn material off Blair’s shoulders. Finally, finally, Jim kissed him, soft, lingering, teasing, tasting. Blair felt himself melt into Jim’s embrace, molding himself to Jim’s warm body.

Jim couldn’t help but wonder how he got so lucky.

“Breathtaking,” he said softly.

“What?” Blair said, picking up his mug and taking another, longer sip.

Jim felt himself blush, realizing he’d spoken out loud.

“Oh, um, the drink,” Jim said, picking up his own mug.

“Oh,” Blair said softly, “I thought you mean me.”

Jim smiled. “I did.”

“So, show me.”

And Jim did.

Chapter 20: September 20 - Pretender

Summary:

Guest Author - Pattrose. Fandom - Pretender. Friendship.

Broots gave Miss Parker a message that had come from her father. She was supposed to meet him at the bar six blocks away. He wanted to talk to her. Miss Parker never questioned her father’s orders, she just followed them. Sometimes she felt like one of the many sheep around the Center.

She left work early to get to her meeting with her father at the bar. She walked in and saw he wasn’t there yet. She sat in a booth and watched for him to show up. The waiter walked up to her booth and said, “Would you like your drink, Miss Parker?”

“How do you know my name?” she asked.

“I was told that you would be here and what drink to make for you.”

“And what drink would that be?” Miss Parker asked, knowing this was Jarod’s work.

“It’s called Buttercup. Would you like it now?” he asked.

“What’s in it?” She seemed sad when she asked.

“It’s two shots of Butterscotch Schnapps put into a coffee mug and filled with hot cocoa. I’ll be right back.”

Her phone rang and she answered angrily. “Jarod, what are you doing?”

“Today is the anniversary of your mother’s death. I know that you were always Buttercup to her, so I knew of this drink and thought it might be good for today. You always loved hot cocoa.”

“I still do. How do you remember these things, Jarod? I had forgotten all about it.”

“I think about Catherine a lot. She was a wonderful woman and mother. I like to think about her almost as much as you do.”

Her drink came and she took a sip and said, “It’s delicious, Jarod. I’d like to think she would make me a drink like this today if she was alive.”

Jarod cleared his throat and said, “I want you to enjoy your drink, Miss Parker. Think of only good things today and she’ll be with you as always.”

“Thank you for the reminder, Jarod. I want to finish this drink alone. Goodbye,” Miss Parker said before she hung up.

“Goodbye, Miss Parker. I’ll be thinking of her today, too.”

The silence in the bar was almost heartbreaking to Miss Parker. Why did Jarod always have to bring up these unpleasant memories? Then Miss Parker thought of how her mother made her hot cocoa with butterscotch in it when she was upset about things. It always calmed her down. She missed her so much and a drink like this made it come to the surface even more. She finished the drink and motioned for the waiter. “I would like the bill, so I can go.”

Chapter 21: September 21 - Suits

Summary:

Suits. Mike/Harvey... cause it's so tasty!

“Why are we here again?” Harvey asked with a grimace.

“Because Craig and Max are friends of mine and they’re getting married,” Mike said softly.

“I mean, why am I here?”

“You’re my significant other.” Mike smiled at a nearby woman who gave them a hard look.

“And you promised to do that thing again.”

Mike felt himself flush at the mention of the thing, as if anything listening knew was it was.

“I like when you do that,” Harvey said huskily, sliding his hand up Mike’s thigh.

“Stop it,” Mike warned, his cock starting to harden as he looked around and saw the same woman watching them. “We’re being watched.”

“That didn’t seem to bother you a couple nights ago,” Harvey said, reminding Mike of the show the poor custodial lady got at the office when they thought they were alone.

“We’re in public.” Mike tried again, but Harvey had taken an interest in the seam of Mike’s slacks, scraping it with his buffed fingernail.

“Cocktails, gentlemen,” a waiter asked.

“I’m trying,” Harvey said under his breath.

“What do you have?” Mike said a bit too loudly.

“Arise My Love.”

“Perfect!” Harvey said with a wry grin, tapping Mike’s inner thigh.

“What’s in it?” Mike asked, trying to cross his legs to dissuade Harvey’s torment.

“A splash of green crème de menthe and champagne,” the waiter supplied.

“Sounds great,” Mike said, taking a glass.

“Sounds horrible,” Harvey said, his fingers now caressing Mike’s neck, having given up the lower teasing.

The waiter meandered away.

“What are you doing?” Mike said after taking a sip of the (yes, it was horrible, damn Harvey) drink.

“Trying to get a cocktail,” Harvey said, feigning innocence. “What else?”

“Uh huh,” Mike said with a knowing grin, “Your cock, my tail?”

“Actually,” Harvey said, leaning close, his warm breath teasing Mike’s ear, “I was thinking your cock, my mouth.”

Like a man on a mission, Mike found them a closet that locked and let Harvey be a man of his word.

Chapter 22: September 22 - NCIS

Summary:

Guest Author - gibbsandtonysbabe. Fandom - NCIS. Friendship, plus established Tony/Gibbs

Tony held Abby in his arms as the tears silently ran down her face. He had quickly made his way to her apartment when he received her anguished phone call. His Mistress of the Dark was hurting and he wasn’t quite sure how much he was going to be able to help her but he was sure as hell gonna try.

Kissing the top of her head as he whispered soothing words, he pulled out his phone, texting a quick 911 to Gibbs, adding only three words; Abby…booze…comfort. He needed some reinforcements and he needed them fast.

He was still holding Abby when Gibbs arrived carrying more bags than he could have imagined and walked straight to her kitchen. Abby never noticed the man’s arrival or the noise emanating from the other room. Gibbs poked his head around the corner and sent Tony a questioning gaze. He mouthed the words ’broken heart’, which said it all. Gibbs nodded before returning to the kitchen.

Tony, lost in what he was trying to do for Abby, never noticed the tray of drinks that appeared or the myriad of snacks that now cluttered the coffee table. He had to smile at the straw stemming from one glass. That was definitely for Abby as it was covered with skulls wearing pink bows coming out of a black sparkly glass. Somehow, just seeing what the older man had come up with he knew that between the two of them that they would get her through this.

“Abs…sweetheart. I think you need to see this.” He gently coaxed her chin up.

Reluctantly she allowed him to show her whatever it was, sighing as she focused her teary eyes on the sight in front of her. Sniffing, she leaned hard into Tony. “When…”

“Not me, Abs, I had help.” gesturing over his shoulder.

Looking over Tony, she saw Gibbs and held her arms out to him. Needing no other invitation he joined the two of them on the couch and Abby settled safely between the two of them.

“Do I need to go beat anyone up Abs?” Gibbs pressed a kiss to her temple.

Smiling slightly, she shook her head.

“You sure?”

“Yeah…it sucks…” She sighed heavily. “But no…it was both of us. I always want more….what is wrong with me?”

“Nothing, absolutely nothing.” Tony pulled her closer. “You have the biggest heart of anyone I know. Trust me on this.”

“He’s right, Abs, nothing wrong with wanting it all and it’s worth everything when you do find it.” Picking up the black glittered glass, he grinned as he handed it to her. “Got this for you.”

Taking it in her hands, she smiled. “Where did you find this?” She took a sip from the straw.

Winking, he handed Tony his drink. “I have my ways.”

Nodding, she sipped through the skulls. “Dark magic.”

Tony chuckled looking at his glass, noticing that the drinks were different. “What’s our poison, Jet?”

He chuckled as he sipped his beloved Bourbon. “Well, for our Goth Princess we have a drink called Innocent Girl.”

Abby snorted. “Not likely…but it’s pretty good. What’s in it?” She was starting to let the pain go, reveling in the care of her two favorite men.

“Goldschlager, vanilla liqueur and apple liqueur over ice. Needed a special cup for you though.”

“You’re a softy, My Silver Fox.”

“Shhh….don’t let that get out…you’ll ruin my street cred.”

Both Tony and Abby laughed hard, nearly snorting their drinks through their noses while Gibbs sat there innocently smirking.

After she had calmed down, feeling significantly lighter, she looked at Tony’s drink. “What’s he drinking?”

Blue eyes glinted with evil mirth as he leered at Tony. “Wild Fuck.”

Chapter 23: September 23 - Person of Interest

Summary:

Guest Author - Pattrose. Fandom - Person of Interest. Friendship.

Shaw asked Reese if he wanted to go and have a beer after work and John said, “I’ll meet you at 8:00.”

Neither of them had to say where, they knew where they always went and would not be changing. The bartender knew them well and knew what they liked. He didn’t make small talk with either Reese or Shaw. He was a perfect bartender for them both, since neither of them liked talking about much of anything. Sometimes when Shaw and Reese met for beer, they didn’t say but ten words to each other, but it was still nice to get out and just act like normal people now and then. Shaw smiled at the normal reference, making her almost laugh. She would have to mention it to Reese later.

When her cab drove up, Reese stepped out of a cab in front of hers. She smiled at how punctual he was.

“I thought maybe you would be late,” she teased.

“I’m seldom late for anything, you know that much about me,” Reese answered.

“It might be because we missed out on saving the ones we really cared about and now feel the need to never be late and screw up again,” Shaw pointed out.

Reese opened the door for Shaw and she walked in it and they both sat at the bar. The bartender said, “Boy, do I have a new bomber for you tonight.”

“Really?” Reese asked. “Why?”

“Just sit there and wait for your drink.” He walked off and took a bottle of Sake out of the fridge, making both of them look at each other and frown. He poured a shot of sake into a shot glass and filled a mug with beer. He then set the two things in front of each of them. “It’s a Sake Bomb. Try it and let me know what you think of it.”

Shaw watched Reese and asked, “Ready?”

“Ready, set, go…” Reese replied.

They both dropped their shot in their beer and drank the beer as quickly as they could. Shaw was the first one to finish and said, “I could go for another one of those.”

“It wasn’t bad. It reminded me a little of sherry and beer. I’ve had that a couple of times,” Reese said.

They each got another one and drank it down. When they were finished, Shaw said, “Did you guess it was going to be her today?”

“No, I thought it was Miller the entire time. I never would have guessed she was the perp. Every now and then it’s nice to be surprised. It keeps us on our toes, I think.”

“Well, I better get home. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow. Harold asked me to come in early for something,” Shaw stated.

Reese thought on that for a moment and said, “He asked me the same thing. I wonder what he has up his sleeve.”

John let Shaw pay since it was her turn and they walked out of the bar like two old friends. Anyone on the street would have thought they made a handsome couple. Reese and Shaw would have said, “A couple of what?”

They both got into their cabs and went their separate ways. This is how Reese liked it and so did Shaw. This is also why they remained friends, neither of them got in each other’s business.

Chapter 24: September 24 - due South

Summary:

Guest Author - katieB_29. Fandom - due South. Pairing - Fraser/Kowalski

Ray shook his head. “Lieutenant, I’m not so sure about this. Do you really think Fraser is up to this undercover assignment?”

“We’ve been over this before. We need to find out who’s been attacking patrons of the bars in Boy’s Town, and Constable Fraser fits the profile perfectly. Now let’s get a move on, shall we?”

“Fine. I’ll make sure he’s ready to go.” Ray walked into the men’s room to see Fraser fixing his shirt and froze. Ray was certain his heart was beating so loud Fraser could hear it. Fraser was always attractive, but tonight he was drop-dead gorgeous. He was wearing tight jeans, cowboy boots and a black shirt unbuttoned so low you could see his sculpted chest. “Get it together, Kowalski!” Ray admonished himself under his breath.

Fraser cocked his head at Ray “Is something wrong with my outfit?”

“No” Ray croaked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “No, you look, uh, you look good.”

“Thank you kindly, Ray.”

“Sure, now pitter patter.”

They pulled up to the club. “Now remember, Frase, you go in there, look available, and we wait for him to strike. I’ll be in the back keeping an eye on you. Got it?”

“Yes, Ray.” Fraser walked into the club, looking confident, almost like he belonged there. Ray followed, shaking his head. Tonight's gonna suck. I cannot watch Fraser talking and flirting with other men.

After a few hours of nothing, Ray got bored and decided to scrap the plan. He walked up to the bar and scowled. Fraser was holding court with a large group of men who were hanging on to his every word, and there was a festive yellow drink in his hand.

“Ray!” Fraser exclaimed brightly “Join me and my new friends in one of these fun drinks!”

Is Fraser drunk? What the hell is he doing? “Fun drinks, Frase?”

“Yes! These delicacies are called Banana Bunch! They’ve got - 2 shots crème de banana, 1 shot maple syrup and …um…”

“And 3 shots cream, 1 shot kiwi juice, 1 shot banana puree and ice, blended until smooth.” One of the men at the bar volunteered.

“Yes. Indulge with me, Ray”

“Yes Ray, indulge in Fraser’s Banana Bunch,” said one of the men suggestively.

“Mmm…I’d like to enjoy his banana bunch” purred another.

Fraser leaned into Ray “I think they’re using banana bunch as a metaphor for my penis.”

“Yes, Fraser, I get it. I think it’s time we get out of here.” Ray snapped.

“Oh, but Ray, I’m having so much fun!”

“Now Fraser!” Ray said through clenched teeth.

“Sorry, boys, I guess he wants to go. Besides, Ray’s the only one I want to share my banana bunch with.”

The men around the bar responded with a combination of sounds of disappointment and “awws.”

Dear god, now he’s pretending to flirt with me. We need to get out of here. Now.

Just as Ray was about to grab Fraser’s arm, he saw, out of the corner of his eye, a man come out of the crowd and drop something in Fraser’s drink.

Ray flashed his badge. “Chicago PD. Freeze!”

The man tried to run but Fraser sprung up and over the bar stool and tackled him.

Figures. The man can even bust crooks when he’s wasted.

After the uniforms took the perp (who was incriminating himself more and more with every vulgar word) Ray motioned Fraser to follow him out to the alley.

“What were you doing in there? Why did you think you had to get drunk?” Ray was crowding in to Fraser, breathing unevenly.

“Oh, I’m sorry if I mislead you Ray. I wasn’t drunk.”

“But I saw the glasses in front of you. I heard the things you said.”

“Oh, it was all an act. The drinks were non-alcoholic. I just thought our attacker would be more inclined to strike if I appeared inebriated.”

“Oh, OK.” Ray’s breathing slowed down and he took a step back. “So all an act, huh?”

Fraser tugged his ear. “Well, perhaps not everything, Ray.”

Maybe tonight’s going to be alright after all, but just to be sure….

“Oh?” Ray said with a hint of suspicion. “Which part wasn’t an act?”

”Well, when I said…what I mean is…”

“You’re killin’ me here, Frase.”

“Ray, would you like to indulge in a banana bunch with me?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Ray laughed as he covered Fraser’s lips with his own.

Chapter 25: September 25 - X-Files

Summary:

X-Files. Mulder/Krycek... cause I needed a little smut :)

After making sure Scully was safe in her room, Mulder wandered over to the coffee shop attached to the motel. He hadn’t eaten since the greasy cheeseburger he’d had three bites of at Dulles before they caught their flight to Kansas City.

Just as he reached for the handle, a shadowy figure slipped from the shadows.

Mulder’s instinct was to reach for his gun, but then the shadowy figure spoke.

“Where ya going, big boy?” Krycek said saucily.

“What’re you doing here?” Mulder growled.

“Waiting for you.”

Krycek turned and slowly walked towards Mulder’s motel room.

How Krycek knew which room he was in was a mystery, but Mulder followed, just as the younger man knew he would. It wasn’t called attraction without a reason.

The two bottles of alcohol, bucket of ice and two highball glasses on the faux wood table surprised him, and he wondered how Krycek would’ve made his appearance if he’d chosen to come back to his room instead of seeking out food.

Krycek put ice in the glasses and filled them with fairly equal parts Southern Comfort and Irish cream liqueur. Handing the glass to Mulder, Krycek watched him walk to the far side of the room and lean against the wall, sipping his drink.

“What is this?” Mulder asked after a tasting his drink.

“Agent Orange.”

“Where do you come up with this shit?”

Krycek shrugged. “I look for it.”

Mulder drained his drink and set it on the bedside table.

“So, you wanna talk first or just fuck?”

“I always say talking’s overrated,” Krycek said with a suggestive smile.

The next morning Mulder kicked the empty Southern Comfort bottle on his way to the bathroom. While taking a piss, between the pounding in his head and the blaring alarm clock, Mulder remembered that they hadn’t talked.

Oh well, maybe next time.

Chapter 26: September 26 - NCIS/Hawaii Five-0

Summary:

Guest Author - gibbsandtonysbabe. Fandom - Crossover NCIS/Hawaii Five-0. Friendship or... Tony and Steve

He loved the beach, the feeling of the sun on his skin, the sound of the gentle waves and the heat of the sand at his feet. He had come to forget…to get away from everything that reminded him of what he couldn’t have. He had hoped that the comfort he sought and needed could be found here.

He had chosen Hawaii simply because it was beautiful. And despite the fact that the last time he had been here he had been forgotten, he did remember the beauty and the way the water made him feel.

He had two weeks to think and decide what he wanted or needed to do and all of that was weighing heavily on him. Since Gibbs had returned from his Mexican siesta, things weren’t the same between them, the team or the job.

Certainly, he could understand why the man had needed time away. Losing one’s memory, combined with the fact that his mind had transported him back to the worst moment of his life, was more than he would wish on anyone. Still, Gibbs was different, and honestly, Tony wasn’t sure whether Gibbs was being truthful when he seemed to have forgotten about their relationship.

NCIS had been his home…his family for a long time and the thought of leaving it was frightening, but equally so was the thought of staying. Ziva and McGee had clearly shown what they had thought of him and Abby wasn’t a great deal better. If he left, he would be able to start fresh…not hide…anything.

He had hidden most aspects of himself for too long and clearly that was coming back to bite him in the ass. Yes, they were investigators and they should have followed the facts and seen that he was far more than he presented, but they hadn’t. No sense in playing the blame game; it simply was what it was.

Since few even knew of his more personal relationship with Gibbs, they had no idea of what he lost when all of this went down and how much he was hurt. Again…if he left, he wouldn’t have to hide his more varied tastes in relationships if he chose to be open.

Moreover, he was lonely…not for sex. Certainly that was part of it, but with Gibbs, he had had a taste of what it was like to share himself with someone and though he knew that in reality what he had shared only a small part of what he really wanted, now that he had a taste, he wanted everything.

Could he have that in D.C.? With Gibbs? With anyone? He wasn’t sure about that. There he had played his part so well that it was almost impossible for an outsider to believe he was anything other than a dumb jock; frat boy; playboy. Maybe he already knew the answer but he just needed some sort of sign that he had made the right decision; that leaving D.C. and NCIS was what he needed to do.

Startled out of his thoughts, he looked up to see a smiling waiter bearing a drink. Puzzled as a drink was offered, “I didn’t order this…”

“It’s a Ewa Beach Iced Tea, sir. And you didn’t order it, but that gentleman standing by the Beach Bar did.”

Tony turned to the bar and noted a tall dark haired man who was smiling at him as he gave a jaunty salute.

Tony chuckled as he took the drink and gave a nod. “What is a Ewa Beach Iced Tea?”

“Well Sir, it was named after the beach here meant to give a taste of the Islands. It is comprised of one shot each of gin, tequila, spiced rum, vodka, triple sec with two shots each of fruit punch and pineapple juice.”

“Thank you.” Tony handed the young man a tip as he watched the man from the bar make his way over to him.

The stranger held out one hand, removing his shades with the other, preparing to introduce himself.

“Hi. I’m Steve McGarrett.”

Tony found himself lost in a pair of startling blue eyes that held no shadows or secrets.

“Thanks for the drink. I’m Tony DiNozzo.”

Chapter 27: September 27 - Sentinel

Summary:

Guest Author - Pattrose. Fandom - Sentinel. Pairing - Jim/Blair... I mean, come on, who else? :)

Jim was watching the game with Blair when he suddenly remembered he was going to make a special drink for the two of them. “Chief, come and talk to me for a moment in the kitchen while I make up a drink for us.”

“Oh, something new?” Blair asked.

“Well, it’s new to you, but I’ve had one before. Watch me make it and see if it looks good to you.” Jim got the blender out and began to build the drink.

Jim took two shots of Irish Cream Liqueur, one shot of Amaretto, two shots coffee liqueur and two scoops of chocolate ice cream. Once that was all in the blender, he turned it on, mixed it up and then poured it into a glass. Jim handed the drink to Blair and said, “Try it out.”

Blair took a drink and said, “This is delicious. Oh my God, what is this called? It’s heavenly.”

Jim smiled that Blair liked it that much. “It’s called a Frozen Amaretto Mud Slide. And I’m hoping that after two of these, we’re going to be doing some sliding ourselves.”

“After two of these, Jim, you’re going to have to carry me upstairs.”

Jim laughed as they took their drinks in to watch the end of the game.

“Thanks, Jim.”

“Anything for you, Chief.”

“You can slide off me in a little bit,” Blair teased.

And Jim knew he would do just that.

Chapter 28: September 28 - Person of Interest

Summary:

Guest Author - JinkyO. Fandom - Person of Interest. John Reese and Root.

She'd gotten the calendar alert to meet someone at this dark, neighborhood pub at 8:45pm. So, of course, she came at seven. At 8:44pm she caught sight of her appointment. From the way his face went cold and flat, she had to assume he saw her too.

“John,” she purred, crossing her legs on the barstool.

“Root.”

“Don't just stand there, you're attracting attention.” Root tipped her head towards the empty seat next to her. “So, this is a surprise.”

“Who were you expecting?” He wasn't making small talk, he was interrogating her.

“I'd hoped it would be Sameen.”

“Guess that makes two of us. What do you want, Root?”

She blinked. “I don't make the calendar, John. We're both just following orders.” Just then her cell phone buzzed. - offer him a Bite of the Apple -

“What is it?” John rasped, his eye's narrowing.

“I don't...” She looked past him, to the shelves of colored bottles behind the bar. Her phone buzzed again. “I've got it,” she murmured to no one in particular. Root raised her hand to catch the bartender's attention. She could hear John shift in his seat.

“What can I get for you?” the bartender asked with a smile.

“Two Bites of the Apple,” she answered.

“Coming right up!”

“That's the message the Machine sent you?”

“Have some faith, John.” She watched as the bartender pulled two Collins glasses from the rack and filled them with ice. A shot of lime juice, half a shot of amaretto, and, without missing a beat, he pulled a bottle of apple juice from the under-counter cooler to finish the drinks.

Within a few minutes the bartender was setting the drinks in front of them. “That's weird. People don't really order this that often, but you're my second customers tonight.”

“Really?” Root tossed her hair back and cupped both hands around her glass. “Who else ordered one?”

“Didn't catch her name, a pretty blonde. French maybe? She met up with someone here earlier.”

“You ever see her here before?” John asked.

“Her? No. Her buddy, old school gentleman, an English guy, he comes in about twice a week. He kinda' stands out in this neighborhood.”

Root smiled at the bartender then turned slowly towards John. “Sounds like we're in good company with this cocktail. Maybe we'll run into our rare drink friends one of these days.”

“You just missed them, actually. They were in with the after work crowd. Try it again next Wednesday,” the bartender finished before excusing himself to take care of another customer.

Root lifted her glass and tapped it against John's. “Guess we'll have to wait to see what our calendars look like next Wednesday.”

Chapter 29: September 29 - Castle

Summary:

Castle. Beckett

Beckett left the precinct but instead of heading to the lot for her car, she turned right and slowly started walking home. Home wasn’t the same anymore, hadn’t been the same since she’d virtually moved in with Castle. And now... with him missing... nowhere was home.

The flashing neon light of a corner bar beckoned her and with scarcely a second thought, Beckett entered the bar and took a seat at the end of the bar. She saw the bartender was busy so she pulled out her phone, hoping once again for an email, anything, any clue as to what had happened to Castle.

“9 ½ weeks,” she mumbled.

“Coming right up,” the bartender said, turning away to make the drink.

“No, I—” she started but he was already filling the shaker with ice so she decided to just go with it.

He poured in citrus flavored vodka, some triple sec, orange juice and a splash of strawberry liqueur before capping the shaker and shaking. The ingredients were all familiar to her, so she was pretty sure it was going to taste good.

The bartender set the martini glass in front of her.

“Start a tab?”

“I’ll let you know after this.”

He looked confused. “You did order a 9 ½ Weeks, right?”

“No, uh, yeah.” Beckett waved him off when she saw another patron trying to get his attention. “Go take care of him, I’m not going anywhere.” She flashed her badge.

He nodded and went back to work.

She picked up the cool glass and took a tentative sip. Positively lethal. She knew she should just have the one and go home, but... in the last 9 ½ weeks she had either been at work, trying to sleep or trying to keep positive thoughts in her head. She hadn’t had time to allow herself to relax, to let go, to grieve for what they’d lost... were still losing. Where was he!?

“So?” the bartender asked.

Beckett nodded. “Start a tab, I’ll have another.”

Chapter 30: September 30 - Forever

Summary:

Guest Author - Pattrose. Fandom - Forever. Family and friendship.

Henry Morgan came walking into Abe’s shop, followed by Detective Jo Martinez.

Abe jumped up immediately and said, “Good to see you, Detective. Are you off duty? I was going to make a drink for Henry and myself. Would you like to join us.”

Jo looked a little confused by Abe’s friendliness, but got over it quick enough. “Why thank you, I would like that.”

Abe gave a look to Henry to settle down and relax, and started to make an Adam Bomb. He took equal parts of sour apple schnapps and Goldschlager and shook it with ice. When it was good and cold, he strained it into three shot glasses.

He handed the drinks to each of them and they all clinked their glass and said, “Cheers.”

Once Abe was done with the delicious drink, he said, “I have some paperwork to do. You two just sit and talk. Henry, make another drink if Jo wishes to have another one.”

Henry glared at Abe, treating him like Henry was the child, when Abe knew darn well that he was the child. Dr. Henry Morgan would never grow old. Abe was now in his sixties. Henry would be this age forever.

As soon as he walked into the back room, Jo asked, “Is he always so pushy?”

“Yes, it’s in his nature. He’s been that way since he was a child.” Henry realized what he said before he caught himself.

Jo laughed and thought he was kidding. Henry ended up making two more of the drinks and they talked about the most recent case of the suicide that Henry told her was a murder. It was a nice evening. Henry liked Jo a lot, but he also knew better than to get too close to anyone. It just wasn’t a good idea. The only one that could know about Henry would be Abe. (And his admirer.)

When Jo left, Henry locked up and went to find Abe. “Don’t do that again, Abe.”

“I like to see you happy now and then,” Abe answered.

“I work with her and don’t want to have anything more to do with her.” Henry opened up the floor area and walked down the stairs to his office of sorts. It was more like a laboratory. After all, Henry was a doctor.

Abe leaned over the opening and said, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Abe. Thank you for having my back.”

Abe smiled as he walked away, because he would have Henry’s back until Abe’s last breath.

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 7 of Cocktails