2019-09-04 - Two Girls One Bar

Detective Sarah Stevens gets into the Firefly without a single person checking her ID. Ha! Makes her feel young again! Okay, so maybe flashing a badge and smiling oh-so-sweet dimples while asking the bouncer where he was around three-thirty in the morning last night has something to do with it.

Point is, the blonde is here now.

The sun's recently fallen and the weather is nice enough that she gets away with wearing a solid, plain Navy Blue tee and a pair of jeans that might be just a hair too tight to be generally appropriate for professional wear. So far nobody's complained about that, though. A badge is featured prominently just to the right of her beltbuckle, proclaiming her a proud member of the GHPD. It's right next to the gun, with a collapsed tactical baton and a can of pepperspray on the back. The handcuffs are in her back pocket, clearly outlined.

She stops for a moment to speak to someone who looks vaguely employee-ish, inquiring about a bartender. He points her towards the bar. Derp.

Sauntering towards the counter, Sarah has her head down, long bangs falling to obscure her face as she taps away a few messages on her phone. She types a lot before it's over, almost physically running into her destination before she's done. Maybe she's possible. Maybe her boss is just a pain in the ass.

Knuckles rap against the top of the counter as she catches sight of someone behind the bar, though their back is turn. "Ma'am! Excuse me. I have a drink order and a few questions for you."

Dahlia has been busy. Well, keeping busy. Between dancing at the Cabaret, bartending here, rearranging her craft room at the house, doing everything possible to avoid running into certain people and possibly fostering a cocaine addiction while trying to hide it - it's been busy! Tonight has also been busy because instead of people being wary of a fight breaking out in the Firefly, they just want to be where it happened. Assholes.

Nonetheless, Dahlia is all smiles because that's what brings in the tips. A shiny blue, low cut halter top with a pair of denim shorts, hair left down and just a touch of makeup to accentuate those wide green eyes. All of it striking against her porcelain skin. She's certainly got a unique sort of beauty. Those green eyes land on Sarah when she nearly runs into the bar, blinking a moment. "I'm not old enough to be called Ma'am yet, honey." Dahlia offered with a laugh, leaning up against the bar and taking an idle note of the badge. Probably wanting to talk about what happened last night. Not that she'd actually been here, just hearing a bunch of second hand stories.

"What can I getcha?" Dahlia asked, studying the officer for a beat. There's a hint of recognition of the woman, but she does a rather good job of not betraying whatever she might be feeling along with this recognition!

Despite the apparent inattention, Sarah has a way of keeping tabs on most things about her. When she isn't texting. Texting is hazardous. Still, as Dahlia turns around, the blonde's eyebrows raise, her eyes roaming over the other woman as if cataloguing details.

Midnight hair, dazzling smile, a set of tits that make her feel flat-chested and insecure. Being called 'honey'. It all strikes a chord. But from where? Wouldn't be the first time she's run into someone she's run into years ago this week.

The Detective returns the smile, at least, just enough to hint at the dimples in her cheeks, opening her mouth as her eyes run past Dahlia and to the liquor behind her, clearly going to give her drink order first. But her mouth just kind of hangs open there, wide and bimbo, looking back to those green eyes, the cleavage, back to the eyes. "Oh my fucking Christ."

The Cali-born policewoman raises a hand to her forehead, simultaneously covering her eyes and pinching her nose as she looks away. Dahlia has poker face skills. Detective Stevens does not. She lets out a brief, short 'Ha!', trying to smile, failing, trying again. "It's... Wow. I didn't think I'd ever meet anyone from L.A. way up here. Um." Shit just got real. Real awkward. A set of fingers drum along the counter, a hand briefly lifted to her chest to indicate herself.

"Uh, Sonia? Sonia... Blow. We did... movies. It's Stevens now. Detective Stevens. Jesus, what are you doing here?"

Those emerald eyes remain on Sarah steadily. As if she's just waiting for the woman to put the pieces together. Still with that pretty, easy smile. Dahlia had always been fairly good at keeping her emotions close to her vest. Especially after...nope. That line of thinking was off-limits now. Instead, she shifts on her feet some and leans against the counter. The smile fading into a smirk when the officer puts it together.

"Detective Stevens." Dahlia repeated the name in a purposely low, sultry tone. Then started laughing. She couldn't help it. She was maybe a little high. "Jesus." Studying the woman again. "There's more people from LA here than you'd think." She leads with, "But I sure as shit didn't expect to see someone from those days." Stevens knew the days she spoke of. Dahlia hadn't been in the industry for a long time, but long enough for them to have crossed paths...and more.

She ran a hand through her hair and gave her a sympathetic smile. "This place sucks. Sorry you made it here. Welcome to my home town." Extending a hand. "Dahlia Evergreen." She'd gone by Ivory Rayne back then.

The blonde-haired woman presses her lips together as if fighting a smile, or a grimace, as Dahlia repeats her name in that low, sultry tone. It takes her back. Waaaaaay back. To way, way too many scenes. Men saying her name like that. Women. The drugs had made it easier. Had made getting clean and getting out harder. But that was another life, almost another person who'd done those things.

At least she doesn't blush. Small favors. It's hard to be too embarassed in front of someone you've been through those sorts of things with. On set. In front of far, far too many people, all of whom were bored, hungry, and waiting for something to explode so they could go to lunch.

The good ol' days.

Despite herself, the policewoman hangs her head and laughs, just a bit, a wide smile spreading across her lips. A hand comes up, sweeping her long hair out of the way and over her shoulder, coming to rest on the back of her neck. "Ah, shit. You aren't kidding. I ran into Justin Cooper the other day. And Love Covey. Competed against her in a surf competition back in 'The Day'. But damn. No one from the 'old job' until now."

She reaches across the counter, taking Dahlia's hand in her own and meeting the bartender's eyes again. A firm shake is given. "Sarah Stevens. Nice to meet you again. With clothes on." After the handshaking, Sarah gestures around the bar. "Doesn't look too bad. I've seen... worse? At least? Shit, this is crazy, grab us a couple of Heinies. You allowed to partake on work?"

Leaning an elbow on the counter, the blonde glances around. "Tell you the truth, I can't even explain why I made the transfer here. Just kind of... happened. Getting away from that city, I guess. This was the first place that bit."

Dahlia hadn't been in the thick of things long enough to spiral, or get in too deep so to speak. In some ways, getting called back here to Gray Harbor saved her from that. Not that she was doing a stellar job in staying on the straight and narrow now that she was here. But, whatever, that wasn't important right now. "Justin's great. Didn't know you knew him." Ironically, for as close as they had gotten physically - she didn't know a damn thing about the woman sitting in front of her except for her chest size and that the curtain matched the drapes. "He's my best friend actually. Small world." Flashing another grin before retrieving the Heinikins and sliding one over to Sarah, winking. "I won't tell if you won't."

"Well, this place has a hard time letting go of people once you're here. Just as a friendly warning." Dahlia offers. "I tried to leave. S'why I moved to LA. We see how that worked out." Then shook her head some, back tracking to the few statements about the bar. "This place is pretty good, yeah. Only proper night club in town, gets pretty packed on the weekends." Shrugging her shoulders. "But the Harbor is way different than LA. On a million levels. So - it's nice in that respect." Though she missed the hustle and bustle of LA quite a bit sometimes.

"Didn't really know him. Knew /of/ him more like. Guy was in the papers a lot." The blonde offers a small smile, more a tightening of her lips than anything, as her hand reaches out to snag up the bottle that's slid to her. "Bestie, no shit? Small world indeed. Tell him I'm going to steal Caleb and take him home with me. That's gonna be my new dog."

The blonde slides a pair of her fingers across her lips and makes a locking and then a throwing-away motion, sealing their pact not to rat out the stolen moment of beer-sharing.

"Eh, fuck it. Where else am I gonna go, Iv... Dahlia? Back to L.A. twice a year to visit my folks, but I kind of have enough bad memories of that place to last a lifetime. And then some. I don't mind a slower pace of life." A beat. "Not that work here is much slower. Looooot of dead people for such a small town."

"At least when you went to the City of Angels, you met some damned fine people." Sarah is gesturing at herself here, before reaching forward to clink their bottles together, then leaning back and upending her own to take a long, long draw from it. By the time she comes back up, she's letting out an 'Ah' of refreshment from her lips and a grimace, the bottle half empty. "So what is it about this place you're trying to escape from anyway?"

A glance around, as if looking for physical reasons that might be present. "Other than a dead party scene?"

Dahlia says, "Yeah, he was." Dahlia agreed with a chuckle. "We met as kids when he came up for the summers. Didn't get to get together too much in LA but I'm happy he's here. It's nice being able to hang out whenever." She took a slow sip of the longnecked bottle and sighed. "Oh yeah. People dropping like flies. It's pretty terrible." Though she did consider herself oddly fortunate in a way that she didn't have any connections to the dead people that were dead via murder.

Dahlia winced a bit at the question of what she was running from and took another long sip. "Too many bad memories. Hurts to look at some people." One person. NO. STOP THAT. "But!" Brightening a touch. "I'm working on it. Putting down some...new roots. Better ones. I think it'll be alright in the end. How long you been in town?""

"New roots? Heh. Maybe I should try that. Thing about roots is that they need seeds, and I'm no gardner. Not got a lot of idea on where to buy some." Sarah looks down at her bottle, quirking an eyebrow and her lips to the side. "Okay, metaphor was shit, but you get me. I'm kind of just married to my work. Keeps me busy. And honest. ...Ish."

"Been here, maybe..." Yes, the policewoman is actually counting on her fingers, holding up a hand and extending her fingers one by one. "Six months? Close enough, anyway. They offered me a promotion, was hard to turn down. Best part about it is there's no Vice division."

"No more standing on a street corner in a mini asking people if they're looking for a good time for THIS girl!" Another sip of her bottle, squinting just over Dahlia's shoulder. "Was that an overshare? It felt like an overshare. But, well, here we are."

But a keen, inquisitive mind will not be denied, not even with beer and a ridiculous amount of flashbacks to their 'glory days' together. "So... lost someone, huh? A bit of that going around, it seems. I remember you, though. What I can remember from that time, anyway. You're tough enough. You have a support network, a stable job, and a positive outlook. Everything necessary to keep from backsliding."

Cops. They've seen all the worst shit people can get into. Especially undercover Vice.

"But you you didn't answer about the bartending, or why here-here. You could head up to Seattle, Vancouver, if you hate the place. What keeps you tied up? You and Justin... y'know... startin'... /roots/?" Those eyebrows waggle out of control with their suggestiveness.

"Oversharing means I'm doing my job right." Dahlia winked, pausing just a moment to serve a couple other customers who were approaching. Perfect smile, a bit of flirting, there's their drinks. She was getting better at the bartending thing. Then she's back to focusing on Sarah. "Did they see ex-p...actress and think Vice was a perfect fit?" Dahlia rose a brow, genuinely curious. "Hah! Yeah. Gray Harbor doesn't have a big foothold in a hooking industry." She studies Sarah for a moment and then relented, nodding. It was easier to share with strangers. Besides, sharing meant building some kind of repitorie, which meant people came back. Which meant tips!

"Came back because my mom got sick again. She died a couple months back. Still sort of working through that." She shrugged, her cheeks flaring red a brief moment and laughed. "No. No. Justin and I...we're just friends. I mean we've thought about it, but I don't think that's in the cards for us." Dahlia shook her head. "Nah, his name is Declan. He bartends are the Pourhouse and does handyman work. And he's way too good for me." She wants to laugh at the talk of the stable jobs and positive outlooks too, but she keeps that to herself.

"I still might leave. Eventually. Maybe go back to LA or something. But I think for now I'm okay here mostly. As for bartending, my buddy Graham hooked me up with this job and I like it well enough. Decent money.I dance over at the Platinum Cabaret too. You should come by some time. We've got amateur night coming up."

"Believe it or not I was just damned hot enough to get it without having to mention Adult Film Star on my resume. If you're a beat cop in L.A. with a pretty face and a thin waist, you get asked to go undercover Vice. It's just... the thing." Sarah frowns. "And yet not a single male officer has ever been asked to stand on a sidewalk corner in a banana hammock. Heh, not that I'd want to see that. Waaaaaay too many muffin tops and too much body hair."

Sarah blanches at the news of loss, however, losing her easy demeanor to avoid eye contact and look down into her lap. "Shit, sorry. Stepped into that one. It's the job. I never stop prying. Everyone's got secrets and I can't seem to stop digging." She looks back up. "You can have my mom, if you want. No returns. Slight neurosis and extremely whiny when not hopped up on pills."

Blue eyes return to green, listening to the rest of the story, but she can't stop the snort, or the laugh, leaning over to one side as she delicately grips the neck of her beer. "Wait, wait, wait. You're dating another bartender? Hahaha! Oh man, and he works for a rival bar? You really are doomed!"

But then another thing catches her ear, and this one makes the Detective slap her hands together and lean back with laughter, face splitting in two with a grin so big it doesn't look like it should all fit on her features. "Yeah, that's all I need. Pics on instagram, 'GHPD Goes Wild'! Hahahahaha, no, no, no, no..."

A hand is held up in rapid denial, fingers splayed, wiggled side to side rapidly as she shakes her head and puts a hand over her mouth, elbow on the bar. "Much as I would love to come see your magnificent ta-tas again, AND shake it up on stage for old time's sake, I am gonna have to pass on Amateur Night. Maybe another night, though it's not really my scene. I mean, I went through my whole Bad Girls With Daddy Issues phase, who hasn't, but now I'm getting old and looking for Miss Right."

"Still. Tempting. Would bring back memories." She grins again, bringing the bottle near her lips. "God, it's crazy seeing you again. Instead, why don't we meet up for lunch one of these days? Show me what to do in this town that isn't fishing bodies out of water, fun as that is, and putting down roots. I gotta meet this Declan."

"No one wants to see a middle aged dude in a speedo." Dahlia agreed, snickering at the mental image. She shrugged a touch about her mom. "It's fine, really. I'm. Well. Not over it, but also not on my downward spiral! So win-win I guess. And thanks but no thanks. One mom was enough" Giving her a wink.

The young woman can't help but grin as Sarah starts cracking up. "Hey now. I'm getting to learn all the tricks of the trade from someone who knows what he's doing! He's primarily a handyman though. So if you ever need someone to look at something or fix it up, I got the hook up." She laughed at the remarks about Amateur Night.

"Hey, you would be the first Emergency Responder to get up on that stage and have some fun." A devilish look in Dahlia's eyes and a teasing tone. "I still have a few years of 'I can do what I want because I'm not grown up yet' in me. But I getcha. Some things are just...not so appealing." She mused. "Anyway. I'd love to get lunch sometime." Dahlia grabbed a napkin and wrote her number on it. "Declan would probably get a kick outta you." She paused a beat. "...Did you have some questions to ask me?"

"Much fun as it would be to see the vein in my boss' head burst when I wound up on the internet, again, I'm gonna have to take a rein check. Maybe if they offer up a masquerade mask. I don't have too many identifying tattoos. Anyway, who knows. I'm half convinced I need to go sometime just to see if you still got it like you had it. Ha! Shit. Still crazy running into you."

The blonde looks down at the napkin, reaching out to grab it, carefully folding it so it won't smudge, and tucking it into a hip pocket. "Will do. He sounds like an awesome guy. Maybe he can fix my heating before winter comes."

The Detective slides her hand across the counter to grip Dahlia's wrist, giving it a little squeeze before she retracts it and moves to stand up. "Good to see an old 'friend'." Then... Oh yeah. The raven-haired woman reminds her what she was even doing here.

"Shit! Right. I have a job. I forget sometimes. Okay." Sarah sinks back into her seat, lifting her beer and polishing it off. The back of a finger is run along her lisp to dry them as she produces a small notepad and a pen. "Were you, or anyone you know working last night between the hours of..."

The questioning only goes on for a couple of minutes. There's not many to ask. Did you see? Do you know? Blah blah blah.