Another Irish Drinking Song

A pair of wrinkled eyes heavily coated in makeup stared down at Beth with a look of disdain, "Listen, kid. I can't serve you any more alcohol. You're wasted."

The girl across from her groaned and plunked her chin on the counter, pouting at the empty shot glass in front of her, "No... you're wasted."

"I'm a bartender," the woman replied dryly, clearly experienced in having conversations with grown-adults-turned-five.

Bethany whimpered into her arm. Where were her friends? It seemed like just a few seconds ago they were swarmed around her, cheering her on and making a whole lot of fantastic noise. By now, however, they had dissolved back into the crowd and left her alone. Again.

A smile appeared on her face, and she giggled at the glass, "You're a bartender. An old, old bartender." Beth giggled again, and looked up, only to see that the woman had moved on to someone else across the bar.

"No!" She whined after her, raising her head with tremendous effort, "I didn't mean it! I love you!" She pouted again when the bartender didn't even acknowledge her remarks. Her chin fell back down onto her arms, "Now all my friends are gone...."

Bethany wanted to get up and make some new ones, but this stool was so comfortable, that she decided to wait until more friends found her. After a couple minutes of sitting in silence, the woman noticed something just outside of her vision, but every time she moved her eyes to see it better, it moved back to the top of her vision. Finally, she came up with the cunning plan to move her head instead of her eyes, and she leaned back in her chair, clinging to the bar for support.

"Almost..." she mumbled to herself as she leaned further and further back, until the thing in her eye suddenly disappeared, and she threw back her head in defeat, forgetting for a moment that her chair was beginning to tip over.

She hit the ground with a loud thump, the chair clattering after her. The sound wasn't nearly enough to halt the loud buzz of people in the club, and neither was the fit of uncontrollable giggling coming from the muggle. She eventually stopped laughing enough to open her eyes and see a figure towering over her, which only sent her into the fit again.

"No giants in night clubs!!!" She shouted between chuckles, not even realizing that she was still on the floor, nor that there was also a stinging feeling in the back her head.

"Does laughing mean you are hurt? Or that you are okay?" Ky frowned down at the woman who had landed herself on the floor. Her loud actions had attracted the young man's attention from across the bar. Loud almost as addicting to him as sparkling. "Most people cry when they are injured.. awful sound crying. I like laughing much better. I laugh... do you?"

He continued to stare at the girl. A frown crossing his face as she finally spoke.

"Giants? I am not a giant am I? I am compared to Inno, but then again... everyone is," he frowned at his hand, "I feel the same as I did... but I suppose its possible I am not."

"Nooo..." She grinned up at him, "I'm BB!" The woman frowned, "BB... Bee, Bee-Bee." She laughed again, loving the way the letters bounced out of her mouth like a bunch of rubber balls. She pushed herself off of the floor and into a sitting position, frowning again, "... I don't know... Do I?"

B bit her lip as she looked at the floor around her. Her eyes lingered for a split second on what seemed to be a little red spot on the floor, but she quickly forgot about it. "Hmm...." she said, then tried her best to stand up, using the table for support. FInally, she was back to her full height, grinning, "There. I fixed it," Then immediately lost her footing, and falling back onto a stool. Luckily this time, she didn't hit the floor, but managed to steady herself just in time so that she was sitting down on it in an almost-correct way.

"BB... thats is a peculiar name, is it not? Do not most names... have more letters than that, or... are not letters at all. How can letters be names when they are letters?"

His head was begining to throb as he tried to work it out. Instead he shook the thoughts away.

The boy's confused frown was replaced with a relieved grin, once she was her full height again, and he wasn't quite so much taller than her. Though she seemed to promptly fall right back over again.

"Do... Bee Bee's always have this much trouble staying upright?"

"That's not my real name, silly!" She leaned in closer to the man, just barely able to keep her eyes trained on his own. "My real names a secret," she whispered, just barely suppressing yet another smile, "But I'll give you a hint..." The goofy grin reappeared on her face, "It starts... with a B."

Bethany swung her feet out in front of her, staring wide-eyed at the sparkly heels as she moved them around in the light. She nodded, "Yes. Yes they do. Bee Bee's can't stand so good. Because Bee Bee's like wearing big, meanie shoes." She pouted, and muttered to herself, "Stupid shoes."

"Why is it a secret?" He tilted his head once more taking her completely seriously. Drunk had never been a state he fully comprehened. "Will... it hurt someone one if they knew?"

Hurt. Funny how his pulse spiked at the thought of hurt.

Looking down at her feet, Ky saw a simple solution to this problem. So without any further thought of personal want, or personal space, he bent down and removed her shoes.

"Problem solved?"

Bethany squinted at him, not entirely understanding the words that were coming out of his mouth, "No...." She looked up at the ceiling as she formulated a coherent, thoughtful sentence, "I don't like my name, but I like B. Bee-bee-bee-bee-beeeee..."

The woman's eyes lit up as her feet began to breathe again. She threw her hands back, which gave her enough momentum to swing forward and plant a kiss on Kyrie's cheek, "You did it!" She giggled, "You saved my feet!"

He seemed to feel disappointed, that there was nothing sinister behind the secret of her name beyond a distast for what she had been christened as birth. Still, that disappointment was neither regestered on his blank face, nor was it remember a moment later when he found her lips against his cheek and confusing spread across him once more.

Was this what people did?

"It was not a problem, M'lady," he inclinde his head with a slight bow, speaking softly, "I was only giving a service. Perhaps, I can escort you somewhere... safer than here?"

Bethany giggled as he bowed to her. She stifled her laughter, putting on a serious face as she climbed off of the stool. She did her best to straighten her posture in a rather regal manner before saying in a mock-British accent, "Good sir, it would be a pleasure."

She bit her lip to keep from laughing as she offered her hand to him, ready to leave this bar as soon as possible. It wasn't that she didn't like it. It was just that all her friends were gone, and her only other friend was going to leave. Plus, he had her shoes, so she automatically had to do anything he said.

Ky tilted his head, a slight smile pressing at his lips at her laughter. She certainly seemed to find many things amusing. He had to say he was getting more confused by her than he had most other people.

Some part of his brain was slowly coming up with the word for what she was.

Drunk.

The woman was drunk.

Taking her hand, he set it on the crook of his elbow, and slowly began to leave the building, though he hesitiated at the door.

"Would you like your shoes back? The ground could be..." he frowns, "I suppose I could carry you. It would not do well to injure yourself with bare feet."