"Mostly...but at least I can keep my pants on while I'm big and green." Bruce replied as he finished with his shirt, tucking it in and moving towards the bureau in his room to check himself in the mirror. Satisfied with a rake of his fingers through his hair, he turned back to Kenzi and grabbed her hand, pulling her up off the bed. "Goes a long way to keeping the number of people who want me dead down to the bare minimum, being a half-clothed monster instead of a naked one. Now c'mon, let's get out of here before I lose my nerve."
They ended up at a bar across town, less of a dive and more of a...well, Bruce hoped to hell it was some kind of theme night, because he wasn't sure he wanted to ever go back if they had country line dancing all the time.
He listened to music, laughed as Kenzi mocked the line dancers, and drank nearly everything she put in front of him. He drew the line at vodka and tequila, because she was Russian and he was a lightweight.
By the time they left, he had a nice buzz going, right on the wrong side of tipsy. They took a cab, and most of the way home he had to fight Kenzi about wearing the Stetson she'd acquired at some point during the night (she claimed the hat was his, a prize in some dance challenge he couldn't remember entering, but might also be responsible for the bolo tie he was suddenly aware of wearing).
When they reached the Bramford Building, Kenzi toppled out of the cab just before Bruce could instruct the driver to take her home. As the taxi sped off, leaving them to stand in the street, Bruce just stared after the cab, then back a Kenzi...then pushed up the brim of the Stetson that somehow ended up on his head.
"You," he drawled, wagging a finger in her face, "are a brat." Slinging an arm around her neck, he hauled her forward towards his apartment building. "C'mon, Kenz, you're stayin' with me t'night."
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They ended up at a bar across town, less of a dive and more of a...well, Bruce hoped to hell it was some kind of theme night, because he wasn't sure he wanted to ever go back if they had country line dancing all the time.
He listened to music, laughed as Kenzi mocked the line dancers, and drank nearly everything she put in front of him. He drew the line at vodka and tequila, because she was Russian and he was a lightweight.
By the time they left, he had a nice buzz going, right on the wrong side of tipsy. They took a cab, and most of the way home he had to fight Kenzi about wearing the Stetson she'd acquired at some point during the night (she claimed the hat was his, a prize in some dance challenge he couldn't remember entering, but might also be responsible for the bolo tie he was suddenly aware of wearing).
When they reached the Bramford Building, Kenzi toppled out of the cab just before Bruce could instruct the driver to take her home. As the taxi sped off, leaving them to stand in the street, Bruce just stared after the cab, then back a Kenzi...then pushed up the brim of the Stetson that somehow ended up on his head.
"You," he drawled, wagging a finger in her face, "are a brat." Slinging an arm around her neck, he hauled her forward towards his apartment building. "C'mon, Kenz, you're stayin' with me t'night."