1964-07-12 - Most Interesting Man In The Bar
Summary: A chance meeting at the bar to let loose.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
johnny-storm jean-paul danny-rand bucky matt-murdock 

Having made plans to meet Johnny at Lux, Jean-Paul arrives a bit early to get a feel for the place. Seated at a table, he's relaxed in his chair as he holds a menu to peruse the drink selection. "Pretentious." he comments to the waitress who came over to take his order. "But amusing. Assuming they actually taste good and not like mud. Cognac? Champagne? And lavender water?" He just shakes his head as comment. "Bring me an Eternal Summer. And some Brimstone."

Johnny is many things, but punctual is unfortunately something he doesn't have more then a passing relationship with. That said, he's rarely so late as to cause problems. Showing up in his Maserati 3500 that's fast, red, beautiful and tuned perfectly, he parks and makes some small talk with people outside. He likes being seen, he likes making a show, so it takes some time to work through the flirting to get him inside. Johnny's in a fitted pair of slacks and a red-silk button up shirt that is only half buttoned up, and fits like a second skin while still being carefully tailored to let him move. As he makes his way through the club, he's all smiles and nods for anyone who recognizes him or who he assumes recognize him, then he's helping himself to a place by JP. A grin to the waitress and he immediately orders, "A devil may care, love. And a surprise to wash it down with." He winks, then grins at JP, "How is?"

Punctual only matters if you're planning on meeting someone, and it looks like Danny Rand is here alone tonight. Not that she usually stays that way. She's sitting at the bar, and despite the fact that there's a man on either side of her, she's paying more attention to the bartender. Right up until Johnny arrives, that is. Distracted by the spectacle, she leans back in her seat to raise a glass with a laugh.

"You've been here before." Jean-Paul points out. He has similar sense of fashion to Johnny as he's in black slacks and a white silk button down. Simply classic. "I'm quite fine and somewhat amused by the pretentiousness of the drinks menu. The owner either has a sense of humor or is an utter boor." Hearing the laugh, he looks over and sees the direction of Danny's gaze. "Looks like you have another admirer."

Johnny laughs softly, "I like it, its got something nowhere else has; a sense of its own self-importance. I can relate." he flashes JP a grin, and he notices Danny and offers her a grin. Once drinks are delivered, he cocks his head to JP, "Come on, she's a friend, not an admirer. I'll introduce you." And he scoots out of the table and heads to the bar, sliding in between her and the guy beside her as if that guy didn't exist even vaguely, not even caring in the least that he's bodily insisting the guy go away. He pulls a cigarette out of his pocket just as there's a growl of complaint, and then his finger bursts into flame, the cigarette is lit, and… Well, for some reason, the seat becomes unoccupied. "Danny." He gestures to JP, "May I introduce a friend of mine, Jean-Paul Beaubier. He's a former olympian." Whatever it is the IOC thinks, "JP, meet Danny Rand. She's rich and has better taste then me. Marginally." His grin turns wicked.

"Hey there, hot stuff," Danny chuckles at Johnny arrives, leaning around him to give a shrug to the man who was there before. What can you do about Johnny Storm. "Johnny and Jean-Paul?" she grins, taking her drink and hopping off of her stool to head over to Jean-Paul. "Cute. Nice to meet you, Jean-Paul," she offers out a hand. "I wouldn't say I've got good taste so much as I've got low tastes. But it works out. What sport?"

Come on? Why would Jean-Paul want to go to the bar when there's a perfectly good table right here. "Bon soir, mademoiselle." he says from his chair. Though he does stand to clasp Danny's hand when she comes over." A gesture to a chair is a silent offer to join them as he he sits back down. "Skiing. A gold in downhill and another in the slalom. Then they took them away when they discovered I like having sex with men. Being a mutant might have played a part too." he adds negligently, one hand literally waving it away. "Down with the patriarchy."

At their names being repeated, Johnny quirks a brow, clearly not getting it, but shrugging and going along. He sips his drink and watches them greet, "Well, although I like something fancy just fine, I find people who have tastes too on the high level forget the simple pleasures. They become so snooty they're downright dull: so a rich lady with low taste is a signal of class, as far as I'm concerned." he grins, and then he shrugs and heads back to the table. Tables are boring. But oh well. He does say to JP in a dry note, "I rather think that second part was the bigger factor, as I recall. But hey, they might be able to declare you didn't win but they can't change the fact that you *did*."

"What do you know, I also enjoy sex with men, and I also catch a lot of crap for it," Danny smirks as she slides into a chair, raising her glass in salute before she takes a sip. "Maybe that's the real secret. It's not the being a woman or being a homosexual they have a problem with, it's the sex with men. Which, honestly, given the way I've seen most men enjoy sex, just doesn't add up. You'd think they'd want to reward that sort of thing so that there was more sex going around, wouldn't you?"

"Well, have you seen the Olympic officials?" Jean-Paul asks, merely giving Johnny a quick grin. "It's fueled, I'm certain, by no one wanting to have sex with them. And a general lack of talent in all of the sports they supposedly oversee the competitions of."

"Ahh… JP's theory has some merit." he remarks to Danny, sipping his drink, "The last time I remember watching the Olympics, these were the guys who needed to pay for it. It could be that you two are giving it away and that makes them jealous." Johnny grins, "Then again I give it away all the time and it doesn't seem to be a problem. But I must not be olympic official's type." He says that in a tone that clearly says: as if that's possible.

"There seems to be a lot of talk about sex with men. Hi, I'm Matt."

A man with a simple charcoal suit and black tie approaches the table holding a cane in his hand. His dark glasses have circular lenses and sit high upon his nose. "To answer your question, Miss Rand, one could only hope. Depending upon the partner of course."

"Clearly the solution here is that I need to learn how to ski well enough to compete for medals, win some, continue to have sex with men, and then see if they let me keep the medals," Danny declares with a lazy grin. "Do you give lessons, Jean-Paul? I've got a rough history with snow-covered mountains, but I'm willing to take a chance."

As Matt arrives, she leans over to set her hand over his on the cane, smile warming. "Well, if it isn't my esteemed counsel," she chuckles. "Mister Murdock, I didn't think this was your kind of place." Her hand slips up toward his elbow, guiding him to a chair.

So, it must be break time for the current bartender - she ducks away, and is replaced by a young man in a black dress shirt and pants. There's a distinct air of wariness to him, for all that he's arranged his features to the kind of receptive politeness one expects of service staff. His left hand is covered with a leather glove, up past the wrist ….and his long hair's been pulled back and gathered into a loose club at his nape. Lucian, out of whatever sense of humor or sheer perversity, has a wanted man tending bar and bouncing. Matt, being what he is, can hear the serpentine slither of all those finely orchestrated metal plates as Bucky wipes down the bar, surveying those present.

"It's quite simple, mon ami." Jean-Paul says to Johnny. "You're not young enough." His drink and dessert are set before him by the waitress and Johnny gets his as well. "Teach you to ski?" Considering Danny's suggestion, he takes a sip of his drink, frowning down at the glass. "I suppose we could work something out. It would not be inexpensive but, no doubt, you can afford it." Matt gets looked over when he arrives and a brow quirks at hearing he's a lawyer. "An attorney? How useful."

"That happens a lot when I'm around." explains Johnny with a casual confidence on the matter of all the sex with men talk, and since the guy is obviously blind, he needs help with the essential bit of information: "I'm Johnny Storm." He reaches to begin offering a hand, then realizes that's stupid, so he just grins easily, and nurses his drink instead, "If there's going to be lessons, sign me up too. Skiing sounds fun. Plus, we can have a sauna anytime, anywhere we want." He looks between Matt and Danny, "Ah, counsel? Were you the wizard that got our Danny here off those absurd charges?" He sniffs at JP, hmph. "As if." Not young enough. Hah.

"I try to be," Matt says quietly with a devious grin to answer Jean-Paul's comment, before he goes back to Danny's earlier one. "It's not, really, but I figured you'd be here and I wanted to make sure I put my hat in the ring before I lost out on the topic at hand." The lawyer stops suddenly as he begins to sense some of the heat emanating from one of the patrons and the mechanical sounds coming from Bucky's arm and he pauses. He snaps back into it at Johnny's question and chuckles, "Well, it was pretty easy given she was innocent, but I'm glad we were successful."

"You know, as it turns out, I got a bargain on my criminal defense, so I've got some money to burn," Danny winks at Jean-Paul, shifting to sit sideways in her chair and drape bare legs across Matt's lap once he's settled in. Not the shy type, is Danny. "No pressure though, if you're busy. But it sounds like a good excuse to get away from the summer heat, right? There's still snow in some parts of the world."

The piano's unattended, and he's got no current orders. So Buck's still idly neatening what he can, fiddling with the kind of tasks that can always be done in the slower moments. Not quite relaxed but….calm enough, even if he's very carefully keeping an eye on the front door. The other evening's would-be vigilantes are enough to have his back up for quite a while to come. Idly listening to the banter from that table - the comment about snow has him looking wry. Someone here will be happy if he never sees snow again.

"And a criminal lawyer as well." Jean-Paul amends. "While my attorney is licensed to practice in this country, he's not well versed in criminal law, just contract and corporate. It might be wise to have a criminal attorney on call and one, it seems, who successfully defended Danny, here. Consider yourself on retainer, if you will. Just in case I am unable to overcome the urge to dump some of your politicians into the Atlantic." As for skiing… "It is winter in the southern hemisphere and Argentina has some acceptable slopes. Plus the beef is superb."

"Well," Matt says as he hikes Danny's legs up fully into his lap and rests his hands upon her knee. "I'll have you know that I'm rather expensive. And I can't guarantee a high success rate for cases involving dumped politicians. Nevertheless, I'm sure we'd be happy to take your business."

Danny Rand takes a sip of her drink, leaning back to watch the shift change at the bar and quirking a brow when the new bartender takes over. "Hey, who's the new guy?" she asks, looking over to Jean-Paul and Johnny as if they might know. "Pretty sure I haven't flirted a drink out of him yet."

Johnny blinks a moment at the mention of summer heat: is it summer again? He can't keep track of seasons. Its annoying and Raining or its Not Raining, and that's all of weather he cares about. But he nods along with the group, lost in thought for a moment, "Why, I think its been like two months since I got into legal trouble. Huh. I feel saintly. The Future Foundation lawyers must be getting bored." He glances sidelong at the bartender, and eyes him a moment, "Don't recognize him, what, is this a game with you Danny? I feel like we need to turn this into some sort of bet, but clearly you've gotten a headstart."

She might've seen Buck there a time or two before, though he's usually at the door. A far cry from the ragged figure who fled the World's Fair - he cleans up nicely. If he's still eavesdropping, he gives no sign. All innocence, as he polishes a glass.

"Expensive isn't generally a problem." Jean-Paul assures Matt. "Supply me with a business card and we'll talk about your rates sometime." Danny's comment makes him look over to the bar and he lifts a shoulder in a shrug. "I have not been here before tonight so couldn't say." Giving the bartender a closer look, he says "That should be amusing to watch. Whichever of you 'flirts a free drink out of him' first, wins." But a touch more seriously, he asks "Does the team have its own attorneys? I might not need to hire one then."

Matt reaches into his pocket and slides over a simple business card to J-P with a nod. All the while his eyebrow is raising higher and higher. "My appreciation of this game is going to be contingent about how good looking this bartender that you are talking about is."

"Not a game, really," Danny smirks back at Johnny. "I'm just saying, you walk into most bars, I can guarantee you the person with the best stories is going to be the bartender. Not the guys who came out to impress someone, not the housewives and the secretaries on their breaks. But the bartenders are far and away the most interesting people at the bar. So sure," she shrugs. "Maybe I go alone. But if the well runs dry at the bar, it's the guy behind the bar who's going to keep the night going, you know?" At Matt's comment, she leans in to brush a kiss against his jaw, cheek passing his with a low laugh. "Looks like trouble to me. But I did say interesting stories…"

"Well I was going to flirt the free drink out of a waitress for my half of it." remarks Johnny with a smirk to JP, but he says more seriously to JP, "The Team itself does not directly, but Reed's Future Foundation… handles a lot of red tape. Besides its philanthropic and science-education arms it exists partly to ensure that the Fantastic Four can operate without the whole celebrity and tedium getting in the way. We're in a fight and Ben lands on a car or I melt through a wall— lawsuits and lawyers get involved. The Foundation handles all of that so we can be focused." He regards Danny curiously for a long moment, shaking his head in disbelief: when Johnny goes to a bar, he's the most interesting people. Obviously. "I'll have to take your word for it: alas, besides, for all you complained about getting crap for your gender, its expected a guy buy a drink for a pretty girl. See, there's advantages."

If they had any idea. Buck's gone poker-faced, back turned for the moment - inspecting the ranks of bottles behind the bar. Nevermind that he hadn't heard of half of those liquors before he started work here….and still doesn't know what a good fraction of them are like.

Jean-Paul takes the business card, glances at it, then tucks it into a pocket. "And you have the advantage of being a celebrity." he points out to Johnny as he looks over the bartender. "Fairly good looking." he tells Matt.

Matt makes a face at Jean-Paul as if to say too bad, before he lets out a chuckle. "I suppose that's the danger of keeping the company I do." He takes the kiss upon the cheek and tilts his head towards Danny, "I'm torn between offering to buy you a drink and just resolving to allow you to win one on your own merit."

"The drinks don't come free," Danny laughs to Johnny, shaking her head. "First you've gotta wear the short skirts and the high heels. You go put on a short skirt and high heels and get someone to buy you a drink, Johnny Storm, and I will buy a round for the whole place." She sips from her glass, setting her hand over Matt's on her knee. "The second one's the right choice, Matt, but I can buy my own drinks," she assures him. "Trust me, the ability or willingness to buy me drinks isn't on my list of qualifications for a man, or else I'd be hitting up Tony Stark," she wrinkles her nose.

"Ah, but as often as that helps, JP, it bites me in the ass." Johnny grins, and shrugs, finishing off his drink. He waits to get the bartender's attention then wave him over, "Not that I'm complaining. The people calling me a freak are sorta adorable." He snorts at Danny, "If I didn't have completely wrong shaped hips and thighs to fit into any skirt, I'd do it without hesitation. Besides I'm sure they don't make high heels in men's size eleven and a half. Those would qualify as deadly weapons." He says with complete confidence, "And I guarantee I'd get one, though." He adds absently, "I'll buy everyone a round and put the question aside."

Bucky obligingly comes over, giving Johnny that expectant look, after tucking the towel he was using away. "What can I get for you?" he asks, pleasantly enough. His voice has that smoker's gravel, and the distinct tinge of Brooklyn. "And you're wrong, by the way. They absolutely do make heels in that size." Utterly deadpan, as he looks Johnny straight in the eye.

"Oh thank goodness," Matt says, deadpanning. "I have some sort of idea where that man has been." Murdock seems to get a kick out of the idea of Johnny Storm in a skirt, although it's a visual he won't ever get to truly experience. The thought itself is still funny, however.

Danny barks a laugh when Bucky chimes in, raising her glass in salute. "What'd I tell you? Most interesting man in the bar is the one who knows you can get high heels in a mens size eleven and a half. Hi, I'm Danny," she introduces herself, leaning over where her legs lie across Matt's lap to offer over a hand. "I don't think I've seen you around here before."

If finding out that there are heels in his size puts Johnny off the idea of a bet, it doesn't show one bit: it's like the guy hasn't ever been introduced to shame. "Really? Huh. I admit I only know so much about ladies shoes— but I've never seen a lady with feet as big as mine, I'm sure I'd notice. So, where?" He considers, "Vigil for me, whatever they want." He waves at them.

"Jack," he says, taking her offered hand - in his own right hand, of course. "'m pretty new, and mostly I work the door or the back," he says, with a jerk of his head towards the rear of the bar. To Johnny, he says, wryly, "It's mostly not ladies with feet that big. Well, correction, mostly not women….but I'd say there're still ladies. South side of Times Square, southwest corner." A nod at the order, and then he turns his gaze back to Danny and Matt. What'll they have?

"Beer for me, Jack. I'm Matt." Murdock turns toward him, gives him a solemn nod. "Something watery and domestic, if it's just the same to you."

"Whatever you're making," Danny smiles easily back at Jack, grip firm but brief before she drains the last of her current drink to offer over the empty cup. "Surprise me." With her hands free, she drapes one elbow over Matt's shoulder, utterly at ease. "And hey, hips and curves aren't everything, you know. The London runways are starting to play toward a different look, less about Marilyn and more…Well. Boyish."

It dawns on Johnny what the bartender means, going all 'ahh', and still not bothered by it. "Oh, I see. I just sort of assumed that clintele didn't openly sell things, since they tend to get raided by the cops often. I always assumed they ended up having sewing workshops or something to make their own costumes." He glances at Matt and laughs softly, "Matt, you haven't been here have you? Then again you can't read the menu. They don't do anything normal here. I reccommend… Frigga's Kiss. You'll like it or I'll owe you one." He eyes Danny with a wry grin, "I meant more more that I've got a lot in the way of muscle all around the area."

Bucky shakes his head, clicking his tongue almost scoldingly at Danny's comment. "Too bad," he says. But then, he did come of age during the era of the bombshell. "One Vigil, and one Budweiser, AKA Sex in a Canoe…..and a surprise for the lady." Watch it end up being a Shirley Temple, depending on how impish he's feeling. He shrugs….and Matt can hear that rasp again, metal on metal. No matter how much WD-40 he might use…."The Kiss is good," he agrees.

"Well, I guess I'll take that then," Murdock says, standing corrected. "Hey, I gotta make a phone call. I'll be back," he whispers to Danny before giving her a kiss upon the cheek and lifting her legs so he can get out. Duty calls and all that.

Danny tips her cheek up to the kiss as Matt leaves, watching him go with a small, smug smile. It keeps her distracted for a moment, only catching up to the conversation belatedly. "Well, I'm sure we could find you a fetching design, Johnny. Be a shame to hide those gams from the world," she chuckles.

JOhnny lifts a hand to casually— and he drops it. Guy is blind, Johnny. As the bartender lists off the drinks, he nods to the man but casts a grin in Danny's direction, "I've never met a shy thought that I let stick around, so don't press me or I'll do it." He grins broader, and cocks his head off to Matt's direction, "Now that he saved your ass, you repaying the favor with letting him cop a feel of yours there, Danny? Or just a friends with cuddle situation?"

He might be new, but he's got a good memory. Bucky's got the drinks dished up in short order - Danny first, then Johnny. "That'd be a novel way of paying off legal fees," he notes, sounding rueful. And a little envious. No such luck for him.

"Hey, I paid him fair and square," Danny smirks back at Johnny, shaking her head. "What came after was…an unexpected benefit. He's sweet. And smart. Without being soft. Also, the blind thing? Man knows how to use his hands, I'm just saying. Thanks," she grins at Jack when the drinks arrive, taking a sip. "It was dumb luck, him taking the case, as it is. I'd normally have Jeryn handle things, but he had a conflict of interest due to some work he was doing with the Rockefellers."

Johnny pauses at this whole hands thing; and he tilts his head, "Now, see, usually I rather like the look I get: the hungry eyes. Seeing the smoldering before there's any touching at all… That said I suddenly am deeply curious and need to find some hot blind lady to see what it's like to be seen with hands alone." He eyes he bartender, and waves him over, "You should be on break." But he takes up the Vigil and takes a long swig from it, "Fuck me but these drinks are both weird as hell and yet interesting. Your boss is either crazy or a genius or more likely then not a crazy genius." He then looks to Danny and smiles, more genuine and less cocky grin, "I don't know if I'd ever go for sweet, but smart and not soft is good. Good for you, though. Never turn down some joy that presents itself."

"I get my break when Ana comes back," Bucky says, simply. "And the boss is definitely crazy. The more I'm around him, the more I think it's the 'crazy like a fox' kind of crazy," He sounds almost fond. "He's also a genius, yeah. Wait until you hear him play. And I'm going through the list with my daily comp, just to be able to know what the hell to suggest."

"Hands. Also, and this is a big one, so take this advice for free - not nearly enough men know how to listen," Danny points with one finger from her glass. "Just try out a blindfold sometime, see if she doesn't thank you for it afterwards." A pause. "Well. Maybe not the first time, you'll probably just miss." She snickers, leaning into a corner of her chair. "But once you get the hang of it. Who owns the place?" she asks, looking between the other two.

Johnny regards Bucky for a long moment, and then he laughs softly, "The right answer, my man, is to come on your day off and try them all. Once you're peeled off the floor and poured into a cab whatever you remember most is what is the good stuff." He can't help but smirk over at Danny, "I'm no stranger to a blindfold, on either side. And I am always thanked. The difference is, outside the act, I know what she looks like, she knows what I look like. It seems different if the first time someone knows what your boobs look like is to feel them— or for me, my abs. I admit I'm having difficulty with just imagining what that would be like: and he can handle it. Good on him." There's not a trace of pity for Matt: some respect, though. He nods to Danny's last question and looks to Bucky, "I've been here several times but seem to have missed the owner."

"As far as I'm aware, Lucian is the owner as well as the operator. He doesn't keep a particular schedule." Bucky says, more quietly. He grins crookedly at Johnny. "I don't care for being really drunk, I find. Not these days. So….one by one for me."

Danny takes another drink, looking around idly. "Well, it's a nice place," she muses. "Good to come for a few drinks without the same sort of pressure you get most places. Maybe not for a lot of loud fun and dancing, but nice for a night out where you just might run into some friends." The last with a tip of her glass to Johnny.

Eyeing Bucky a moment: don't care for being drunk? Its like the guy spoke martian. "I have to make a point to meet this Lucian fellow, if he came up with this menu." he remarks, then nods over to Danny, "Its got…character. Most clubs are just thse crazy dance places or boring bars. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for those things. But character counts." And Johnny means that pun. He tips his glass to Danny with a flash of a grin, "But!" And he downs his drink in a long draw, "I only stopped by for a couple drinks with JP. I needed to get a bit drunk before a meeting." He sighs long-sufferingly, and rises, "SEe you later, Danny. Aand maybe try two a day, Jack?"

"I'm a lightweight, and good where I'm at," Bucky replies, mildly, wiping down the bar again. "But I'll consider it," he tells Johnny. "You want me to call you a cab?" he asks, cocking abrow.

"See you around, Johnny." Danny drinks again, taking a look around the bar. "I'm gonna go check on that lawyer of mine," she says, setting her glass on the bar. "Keep an eye on that for me, will you?" she winks at Jack before disappearing into the shadows. Hopefully no one's checking the bathrooms…

"I'm flying there. By the time I come back to pick up my car I'll be sober." replies Johnny casually. Because fireballing under the influence is not a crime.

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