Five O'Clock Somewhere

[Colten James Harris]

Two o’clock in the afternoon and Colt Coulter was getting shit faced snookered.

Setting at the counter of a hole in the wall bar, the hunter stared down into his beer and looked lost in his thoughts as he drank. The place was dusty and rough but it was just the sort of place he'd gone looking for after leaving home after lunch. Being under the watchful eyes of his friends and family was giving him fits because as much as he wanted to to reassure them, he felt as if he was going to explode like a grenade at any moment.

Ever since he and Charlie had called it quits, his actions had gotten more and more reckless and he felt as if he were walking a razors edge. Oh, on some level, he'd seen it coming but it didn't make it any easier. Being a hunter wasn't exactly something that made being in a relationship easy and he couldn't blame the woman for shutting him out but... Damn, it still hurt. He'd thought she'd understood what she was getting into but in the end... maybe she'd simply been to sweet and caring for the life he led. He certainly hadn't wanted her involved in the gritty part of his job and his logical side said things were just better this way. To bad logic didn't keep the bewildered hurt and anger in check too.


Unwilling to risk that explosion around his family, adopted and real, he'd finally taken himself off and driven around the city before finding this dump. With three beers down and another one in front of him, he was already feeling the effects of the liquor along with the shots of Jack he'd added in for good measure. Tonight, he didn't want to feel anything. He just wanted to get drunk and let off some steam like he had in the days before his ex.

Yeah, it was five O'clock somewhere and he was ready to party.

Suddenly, the stool beside him made a creaking noise as a body slid on to it and Colt dragged himself away from his mug long enough to look over the person next to him. Arching a brow, he took in the poor bastard’s expression and then smirked a bit. It looked like he wasn't the only one having problems this afternoon.

[destiny]

With smiling eyes, the man in the limo bent over to kiss his lady’s hand. She gave his thick cheek a pat and took a step back onto the curb, waiting for the expected question. She was dressed in black; covered by the shadows of the street around her, her diamond studded dress shining with every passing headlight. Ruby red lips pouted seductively as she looked down at him and long, tapered fingers toyed with the strap of her equally studded clutch.

”Destiny, you are the perfect woman. Make my night even more perfect and let me come up?” He asked, looking up at her hopefully. Where she stood, with her back to oncoming traffic, it was almost as if she were wearing a halo.

Regret colored her French accented voice as she gave him a gentle smile. “I’m afraid not. Not tonight, at least. Good night, Mr. Peterson. Have sweet dreams, for me.”

With the soft click of the passenger door, the limo pulled into traffic and sped away. The woman in black watched it for a few seconds, a pensive look on her face, then turned to make her way calmly down the street. Her heels clacked on the cold concrete; the sound ricocheting back to her like gunshots. She constantly glanced over her shoulder, as if worried about being followed and turned a corner, hurrying up the dirty brown stoop of a worn apartment building. Apartment 8A, the sign on the door said. Taking her keys out of her clutch, she pushed at the door, which let loose a low groan of protest and slipped inside.

And leaned back against the door with a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank you, Jesus,” She uttered in a Southern drawl, letting her head rest back against it with a thud. “If I had to listen to that lunatic talk about his mother one more time, I was gonna off him with a champagne bottle.”

Ah, the sounds of a night well worked.

Tossing her clutch onto the couch as she moved down the hall, she kicked off her heels and stomped up the stairs. Whoever said that ‘pain was beauty’ definitely had that right; standing all night in those torturous devices, while a man who smelled like horse manure tried to slide his hand up your dress was definitely falling under the ‘ARGH’ category. Pausing at an ornate chest of drawers in her bedroom, she wiped off the lipstick, unstuck a pair of glittery eyelash extensions from her top lids and peeled off the flowing black tresses that hid the brunette hair beneath.

“Goodnight, Destiny,” She said to the wig as she arranged it on her bureau. The wavy strands almost seemed to wave a sleepy goodnight reply, as she walked away. Pausing in the bathroom, she pinched out a pair of neon green contacts, revealing pale blue eyes that squinted back at her. Glasses, a clingy t-shirt with the face of an actor from Vampire Diaries and a pair of workout pants finished the look and Juliette was ready to go. Spending most of the morning fixing up her apartment and promising her tired body a rest later that afternoon, it was almost a treat to realize her pick up time had come. Snagging a long leather purse from the table near the front door, she hurried outside and made her way back into the world.

It wasn’t a very long walk to get to O’Halloran’s Bar. At only 2 o’clock, it wasn’t very full; housing only the Thursday night’s version of tomorrow’s late night drinkers and last minute food-lovers. Shouldering open the door, she sauntered inside and returned the welcoming smile flashed her way from the bar.

At 65, Halloran Doyle was a formidable looking man; all muscled arms and weathered features that gave a world weary look to him. His wife, on the other hand, was all smiles and practically radiated warmth. They were the perfect couple; married for over 40 years and still in love.

Now, if only Mrs. Doyle would stop trying to set her up with her ten thousand nephews, they’d be the perfect friends, as well.

“Juliette!” Betty Doyle said happily, rounding the bar to give her a hug. “How are you doing, dear? Ooh, you’re too skinny; I keep telling you to come by more often! How are you ever going to catch a man if you look like a walking toothpick?”

Juliette just met Hal’s rueful stare and laughed. Arm in arm, the women walked to the kitchen. “I really appreciate this,” Betty was saying, steering her friend toward a room at the back. “Jasper is so dear to us, but we just can’t take him on our cruise! He’s too old, for one and was never partial to boats. Why, Mr. Doyle and I took him on a sailboat that Hal’s father used to own, and Jasper was so sick; the poor dear! So we were so glad when you’d said you’d take him. I swear, he’ll be no trouble!”

A pair of sad Beagle eyes looked up at them from where their owner was lounging on a towel littered with chicken scraps. An ear lifted, as if the dog agreed with the statement, and with a huff, he lowered his great head back onto the ground.

“It’s no problem, Mrs. Doyle,” Juliette said with a smile, kneeling over to scratch at the old dog’s belly. Jasper practically melted, flopping over onto his back to give her more access. “We’re gonna get along just fine, aren’t we, Jas?” A little snuffle was her reply.

Ten minutes and more cajoling over her weight, she was carrying her new cargo in her arms. Jasper, now thinking of himself as ‘King of the Mountain,’ let his muzzled flop onto her shoulder and snuffled his goodbyes to his owners. “Good Lord, you weigh a ton,” She muttered, snorting in amusement when the Beagle grumbled his version of a ‘so what? I’m cute.’ Doing her best to see over a mass of furry shoulders, she tried her best to walk around the bar, but ended up losing her balance and falling onto a stool instead.

Jasper, finding the new position much more preferable to being carried, let himself topple sideways…right into the lap of the man sitting next to her, obviously trying to stretch out for a nice, long nap.
“Jasper, no! Bad dog!” She gasped. Doing her best not to laugh, she tried to heft the dog back onto her shoulder, but failed miserably. Gah, he weighed a ton! “Jeeze…I’m so sorry. He’s old and really…darn…fat…oh, poop.”

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[Colten James Harris]

Leave it to a dog.

From his seat on the barstool, Colt watched as the dog put on his best "Hound dog" expression and had his pretty handler eating right out of his paw. He could practically see the gears turning in the wily old dogs mind but when that gaze landed directly on him.... To say he wasn't prepared for what happened would have been an understatement.

To say the least.

One moment he was sitting there minding his own business.. or pretty much minding his own business anyways... and the next thing he knew... Said dog was sprawled half in his lap. As his handler turned with an abashed exclaimation, Colt could only look from her to the dog and back. Something about the Beagals expression raised alarm bells in the back of his mind and he couldn't help but think back to the older woman's matchmaking comments. Was it possible for a dog to be in league with its owner?? Was there really such thing as a matchmaking dog? In his line of work, Colt had learned to believe in almost anything but even that seemed like a stretch for him. As his gaze fastened on a pair of lovely blue eyes, he almost regretted it for a millisecond or so. Almost. After all, he had just gotten dumped by his former wife and it just wasn't possible to be interested in another woman... Was it??

"Um... Its not a problem.. Really..." he found himself saying, even reaching down to give the old dog an ear rub. "I've always had a weakness for dogs... "

After watching the young woman struggled for a moment, Colt suddenly remembered his manners. With an easy movement, he picked the canine up and then stood there like a dolt trying to figure out what to do then. The dog was no ones idea of a light weight and it didn't seem right to make the young woman carry him. Unfortunately, he didn't know what else to do with him without asking the obvious and probably getting into trouble.

"At the risk of sounding like a stalker or a cheap come on line... Can I help you home with .......?? I assume you live nearby? Not to put this poor pooch down but I don't know if he can walk to far and he's even heavier than he looks..."

Oh hell... didn't that just sound fine and dandy. Wincing a bit at his own words, Colt tried to back up.

"Not that he's not a fine dog or anything... I just wouldn't want him to expire of a heart attack or anything if its very far."

Damn it to hell... That wasn't much better... Maybe he'd had more to drink than he'd thought.


"What I mean is.... Oh Hell... Can I help you get him home before I put my boot in my mouth anymore? I think foot in mouth disease must being going around or something today..."

[destiny]

Damn, but she was really sighing a lot lately, Juliette thought as yet another one rolled out of her chest. Still doing her best to tug the dog off of the poor guy’s lap, she had to resist the urge to start laughing. Only her night would result in having her newest charge molest one of the bar’s patrons…seriously.

“C’mon, Jasper, have some mercy…” She grumbled, sliding her arms around the beagle’s belly. When that didn’t help things much, she tried looping her arms around his butt and pulling.

God, it was just unnatural; how fat this mutt was! She was going to have to have a real long talk with the O’Halloran’s when they got back from their cruise. Sheeze, talk about a poster-dog for exercise classes…

When the guy reached down to give ‘ol Jasper a pat on the head, she almost sagged in relief. Oh good; he wasn’t going to freak out and sue her for having a pooch use his lap for a throw pillow…that was always a plus. Her mouth gaped open when he stood and scooped him up like he was nothing; even Jasper looked a tad surprised, as he picked his wrinkly head up to look into the stranger’s face. But then, as he realized that he wasn’t about to be set onto the floor, a look of completely love fell onto the pooch’s face and, with a happy sigh, the old dog let his muzzle drop onto the wide shoulder below.

“I think you’ve just won yourself a friend for life,” She couldn’t help but say with a shake of her head. Her attention shot back to the man himself as he started talking about walking her home, and she had to catch herself before she took a step back from him.

Out of pure instinct, she looked him over; took in those strong arms that easily carried the ten ton Jasper, the obviously powerful physique that was making other women in the room drool…and none of it made her any easier. Those big hands could easily reach around her neck, and those fists would break her bones. Then there were the shit-kickers on his feet and the obvious chorded muscle in his legs, which almost promised that a good kick could rearrange her kidneys—

With an inner growl, she forced those thoughts away and focused on the present. Destiny peeked out from her little hiding place and looked into his eyes as he fumbled for words. He didn’t look like a threat, her other half decided. He was just a good ‘ol boy trying to do a good deed. Nothing more.

“You’re fine,” She said on a laugh, nodding toward the door. “I’m actually taking him to the kennel. It’s not far from here; if Jasper’s not too heavy for you, we can actually walk it. I really appreciate this, Sir…even though I have a feeling that when we get there, you’re going to have to pry him out of your arms. Jasper looks like he’s about to ask you to marry him.”

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