Two Romulans walk into a bar.

D'Imus seated himself at the bar next to Tal'Ara with a groan.
"It's a ghastly place, my dear. Cardassians make terrible architects, no wonder they lost the war."

Tal'Ara laughed heartily. She loved his sense of humor.

"It is somewhat satisfying, though. To be able to sit in this tin can that I helped pluck from their scaly hands."

She looked around the bar for Falten.

"The bartender, Falten - she's Andorian, has interest in striking up a deal with you. I rather like her. She's..."

Dangerous thoughts crept in Tal'Ara's mind. But she dare not show her mentor a sign of weakness like that.

"...entertaining, to say the least."

The two old friends sat there at the bar, catching up, and reminiscing on espionages yon past, as they waited for Falten to arrive.

(( OOC: late afternoon, early evening))

((OOC: Shanks, gurl))

In the hours since she'd returned to the Eel, she'd kept herself busy. She'd nursed the whiskey for some time, but an unexpected nap had killed about three hours of the day. With a little bit of her exhaustion removed, she'd gone about cleaning off the bar for the second time, organizing the bottles and displays and wiping down every couch and chair. Once it had reached a satisfactory level of neatness, she disappeared into the back to reorganize every container, and then to give herself as much of a wash as she could.

She'd bolted from her room so early that morning that there had been no opportunity to hit the shower, or even wash her face, so she spent a good amount of time bent over a sink in the back, rinsing her hair and scrubbing at her entire body with clean bar rags. Washing off the night, the stress, the sleep, the anxiety. Fuck today. She was a better zhen than this.

As she turned off the water and wrung out her hair, she heard voices coming from the bar, and it wasn't HJ. She frowned. The bar wasn't open. Who the fuck was in her bar?

She pulled on the loose navy sweater she'd grabbed when she'd fled her room - it was old and oversized, so it slid off of one shoulder and almost reached her fingertips - and strode out of the back, her eyes flashing like steel. Her hair was still wet and slicked back from her face - not very professional, but everyone would just have to deal with it, tonight.

It was a surprise to find the Romulan at the bar, though not entirely unpleasant at all, she noted, a small smile fastening itself to her lips. There was an older Romulan gentleman with her, a stranger, and she didn't remember seeing him. Her antennae lifted. An old friendship grew here, a genuine kindness that was very strange, coming from Tal'Ara. It was intriguing.

"You're hitting the bottle early, Lieutenant," She smiled and arched a white brow at Tal'Ara.

"What can I say, you have wonderful customer service," she said flirtatiously.

What was this feeling? Something about the Andorian's bluntness, her ability to match wits... the danger of her intuition... her eyes... her lips...

Tal'Ara shook these thoughts from her head immediately, and cleared her throat.

"Falten, this is D'Imus, the alemaster I was telling you about. He is a very old friend, and he's interesting in making a deal with you."

"How do you do," said D'Imus, extending his hand over the bar. "I have a number of vintages I believe would suit your establishment. I brought a few bottles with me to sample, perhaps you'd enjoy a tasting?"

Falten's smile was suddenly very bright. She saw Tal's look. She felt Tal's look. She liked this Romulan, no question about it.

"D'Imus! An absolute pleasure, sir, I had no idea you'd be coming to the station so soon." She took his hand and shook it warmly, then gave Tal a curious, secretive glance before looking back to D'Imus.

"A sampling is right up my alley. Shall I get what I have in stock as well? Educate me in the ways of some of the finest Ale in the galaxy, tell me if I'm serving shit or not. Because fuck me if I'm serving shit, I'll toss it out the airlock."

Tal'Ara could not help but smile at everything Falten said and did.

"You might as well bring what you have, but prepare yourself - you simply have not lived until you've tasted D'Imus's finest. It will ruin all other alcohols for you. I can scarcely drink anything else."

Tal'Ara was rarely a person to let her guard down and be relaxed - outside of her privacy. But being between D'Imus and Falten... she didn't seem to have a care in the world.

She felt... radiant.

Falten laughed, the first genuinely comfortable sound she'd let out all day.

"Then get comfy, I'll get a couple bottles." She gave the bar a pat and then ducked below, reaching into a refrigeration unit and pulling out two bottles of Romulan Ale. One was bright, a few shades out from her skin tone, and the other one was darker, a richer blue like her lips. She set them on the bar with an arched brow.

"I don't know much about Romulan Ale, other than it's always a favorite among regulars and it's my go to, when I'm not in a whiskey mood or looking to swim in bloodwine. Andorian ale is pisswater."

Her antennae moved gently. Tal's emotional state was more open than she had ever felt it before, and her smile was so light - something other than surliness looked good on her tattooed face. Falten had half a mind to tell her so, but that was hardly appropriate in front of D'Imus, so she held onto it for later that night. D'Imus was a sharp old Romulan, she could sense it, but he was similar to Tal.

"Sorry I look so... meh." She tugged at her sweater and ran a hand through her still damp hair. "Been a long fucking day... I would have at least put on real pants had I known you were coming, D'Imus."

"Bring some glasses, my dear. I have pre-war vintages that will curl your antennae, and a limited release from a obscure little distillery owned by eccentric twin brothers, so highly sought after, people have been trampled for it!"
He opened a refrigerated case, which released a cloud of dramatic vapor. From it, he produced four Crystal bottles, each of which containing blue ale in varying shades, from a faint sky, to a deep indigo.
"Now, which to try first?"
He opened the bottle of sky blue Ale first, letting it breathe.

"Want the glasses chilled, D'Imus?" She asked, her hands hovering over the selection of glassware just under the lip of the bar. She was incredibly excited - new liquor was a rare treat, and GOOD new liquor was even rarer.

Tal'Ara bit her lip to stop herself from making an inappropriate joke about Falten's lack of real pants.

Tal'Ara grabbed the lighter of the two bottles, opened it, and took a whiff.


"This is the one I have tried, D'Imus. It is... well, it isn't terrible. But it has a bit of an under-ripe finish. I don't know the maker," she turned back to Falten. "Where did you get it from?"

Falten looked suddenly uncomfortable, embarrassed by Tal'Ara's question.

"Well, Romulan Ale was hard to come by, for a while, so I took the word of a trader working out of a Federation outpost. He said he had a partner who knew a Romulan brewer, though I never really believed that. The bottles he gave me weren't bad, and it was legitimate, so I've had shipments from him every so often." It was hardly professional, but it was the best she could do.

She could tell that she might have hurt Falten's feelings.

"It's understandable. Without a reliable source, it can be hard to find vintages of quality - especially for outsiders. It is, after all, our most prized export. It's a shame that the Federation has kept it ilegal all these years, depriving millions," she said with a smile, to lighten the mood.

Falten's antennae shifted towards Tal again. Was that the slightest bit of concern for her feelings?

"Legalities are guidelines," She tossed a hand, grinning. "I just wish I had something better to offer some real Romulan connoisseurs."

D'Imus took the bottle Tal'Ara was holding and took a smell. He made a funny face.

"This is K'Parr's work. He produces largue quantities of affordable ale. Not very high quality. He likes to cut corners to save on costs," he said, bluntly.

Her grabbed a bottle from the chest and placed it on the bar. The ale was a lighter shade of blue than the one on the bar, with just a hint of turquoise.

"This is a similar style, but much higher quality. It is dated 2360, which make this the perfect drinking age for this variety. It was one of my first creations."

He opened the bottle and poured a taste for Falten and Tal'Ara.

Falten leaned close to the bottles, inspecting the slight differences in hue between them.

"What in the brewing process causes the blue color difference? Simply the ingredients, or does it have to do with aging and the fermentation?"

She lifted the sample glass of the 2360, sniffing it. Her eyes lit up.

"Fruity on the nose, with hints of bitterness..." She lifted the glass out before her. "Too early for a toast? Fuck it. To fine Romulan Ale and good company. Slainte!"

They clinked their glasses together.

Tal'Ara took a healthy slug and smiled.

"This is wonderful, D'Imus," she said. It really was. Bright and fresh. Opens the eyes and nose. And sings on the way down.

D'Imus took a small sip and answered Falten.

"Well, it is a combination of things, of course, Falten. But quality ingredients, free from chemical interference is the start. The maturation and fermentation process is very complicated, and it doesn't take a lot to ruin a whole batch. This is why good vinters only operate on small scale - so they can have as much control as possible. But I cant go giving all my secrets away, now can I?" he smiled.

Falten sipped the ale first, to run it over her tongue, but then took a larger mouthful in helpless delight.

"That goes down so beautifully, D'Imus - kick in the face, but like a warm embrace once it hits the chest." She smiled and sighed contentedly. "I'd never ask for all your secrets, D'Imus - you're an artist. There's such complexity in it, but it reads so simple on the initial draw."

Falten nodded, taking another sip and looking at Tal over the rim of the glass.

Tal'Ara saw Falten sneak a glance at her. Was she flirting?

She suddenly got very shy and focused more on her drink.

D'Imus then grabbed another bottle, this one was filled with an ale that was a striking color of royal blue.

"This one was a creation of my father. 2325. This won several awards on Romulus, and is about as top shelf as it comes, without venturing into the extremely rare variety."

He poured two glasses of this and handed them to Falten and Tal'Ara.

Tal'Ara sipped it and sighed. It was like jumping in a pile of blankets. Warmth. Security. But there was also a robust, powerful quality to it. It didn't knock you over, it stood you up.

Falten once again did her color inspection, sniff and sip routine.

"Mm... you Romulans outdo yourselves with attention to detail." She closed her eyes and took a longer drink, rolling it around her mouth. "It has an earthy quality to it, like a solid whiskey, only not as sharp. Sits very nicely, square on the palate."

Was Tal being shy? Was it possible for the vitriolic Lieutenant to be acting shy? And what had prompted that? Her glance? Falten's antennae lifted. It was so incredibly intriguing, and such a pleasant change of pace for her.

[OOC: Tal is a Lieutenant Commander, fyi... and actually, after the ceremony, she will be a Commander... no big, just so you are aware]

Tal'Ara sheepishly glanced up from her drink and locked eyes with Falten. What was she thinking? Could she see what Tal was wrestling with? It felt like a school girl crush. She was beyond this kind of thing. But for some reason, maybe it was the added prescreens of D'Imus, she was weak at the knees. She kept quiet.

Then, D'Imus brought out the big guns. A beautiful bottle, with some dust. The color of the ale was a dark, deep navy blue - almost black.

"And this... this is possibly the finest ale ever produced. My grandfather crafted it in 2256. It is over 120 years old. And has been aged and preserved with the highest standards," he said, pridefully. "I warn you. Once you taste this, you may have a hard time enjoying anything else."

He poured two glasses.

Tal'Ara breathed in its seductive, ancient scent. She took a delicate sip, and stepped into a taste of history. It was like tasting the last bite of the best meal you'd ever had. It was inviting and invigorating. It was smooth and smokey. The flavors changed by the millisecond, stripping back years of aging and complexity.

She nearly cried.

((OOC: My bad :/))

Falten's antennae focused in on the bottle, her eyes widening just a little. This kind of liquor was an honor to be allowed to taste - it was a rare occassion, maybe only a few times in her life, she had been able to sample top shelf ale, and all had been on the most solemn of occassions.

Falten lifted the glass delicately, as if it would vanish if she moved too quickly. The darkness of the liquid stirred her, and she gently and hesitantly let it touch her lips.

Darkness. History. Old. Hearts and minds and hands and smoke and nights and evenings under a Romulan sun.

Falten closed her eyes, her antennae almost trembling. Tal'Ara's reaction was so visceral, so pure - and the flavors crossing her tongue and throat were pulling at her own heart as well. She was afraid her own emotions would fan out enough so that even non-empaths would feel her fluttering soul. It was the perfect ale for the kind of nights she loved most - quiet and intimate and full of thought. It was so distinctly Romulan, but the openness of the flavor was unlike anything she'd experienced. It was cool in her mouth but warm everywhere else, stout and solid and full of time.

It was a moment before she could speak, the warmth tracing through her very bones and the edges of her face. Her eyes were bright and clear.

"There aren't words for how honored I am that you let me taste this, D'Imus. Masterful is the only word I can come up with, right now..." She gave a weak smile, looking down at the glass again. "Is it supposed to take your breath away? Because... yeah." She looked at Tal'Ara, shaking her head slowly. "Where did you meet this guy, Tal?" She asked, a little breathlessly.

Tal'Ara's face flushed. Her history with D'Imus was long and complicated. She had met him when she was in the Romluan Military Academy. It was he who first recruited her for the Tal Shiar. He was her trainer, her mentor, her lover. They shared everything. He taught her everything. Countless nights sitting up and philosophizing, learning, making love. He was perhaps the most important person in the world to her, especially since her father died.

"Oh... we go back... very far," she said, with a coy smile.

D'Imus smiled at Tal'Ara, proudly, and lightly grabbed her hand.

Tal'Ara nervously took another drink of the rare liquid, letting it calm her.

She beamed at Falten.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it."