Tate • Michael • O'Ballivan ♣
Tate had gotten to the bar a bit early that day due to the fact that since Amanda was home again if he didn't get up before she did - he just wasn't goin' anywhere for a long while. Due to him bein' there early he had decided to move things around and clean some things. He was a tad OCD with the glasses, but so what? No one like dirty cups. When he heard the door open Tate assumed it was either a customer coming in early or maybe Integra coming in early. Considering he hadn't seen Pip or Alice in a while, Tate was surprised to see Pip there so early. As the normally cheerful man plopped down at the counter lacking his normal cheer Tate figured that either there was serious trouble in paradise or the man was just exhausted. At the request for scotch, Tate figured out what caused the lack of cheer - serious trouble in paradise. Fighting an internal fight with himself, Tate made no comment of the request but grabbed the requested liquor. Turning his back to Pip, Tate poured about two fingers worth in - then added some water to weaken it. Walking over to Pip, Tate set the glass down gently in front of the man. "Man, the alcohol's not the way ta figure things out. You don't usually grab anythin' outta here stronger then beer and that's occasional. If you want a drinkin' bud then at the end of shift we can go to my place and get completely shitfaced - and you can spill whatever's gettin' at ya. I can get 'Manda to stay outta the way if you wanna just spill. She'd respect the space." Leaning his elbows on the bar some Tate rested in front of the man he considered a friend and waited to see if he would hop on the defense of just want the alcohol.
