The people and tourists of London, just as those around the world, love to shop and eat. Visit a store, have a quick bite with a friend, or just wander the street. Whatever your goal is today, you can get just about any of it done at some part of London.
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by: Katarina Bauer
#13279
June 8th 2012

The Green Olive
Downtown London

7:30 p.m.


{What a fucking week, am I right?}

Katarina stared into the open mouth of her glass and into the shot of amber liquid seated at the bottom of the tumbler. It was her second round already, as she drank alone at the far end of the bar. She chose a fairly obscure place to haunt for tonight, a little hole in the wall called the Green Olive, knowing that her cohorts would have little chance of finding her in case they decided to have the bright idea to come out and drink too. Though, it was clear that no one on the team loved the bottle more than her. Jones was the boss so she’d probably have some swanky little bar to visit. Orion was a kid with kids on the way—and from what she remembered, a little trouble in paradise, so she doubted she’d run into him. Cole was trying so hard to be her guardian, Geoffrey backed off after her stint in the cells—but both of them were in the hospital now--[God Damn…]

Klaus was… well, what the hell was it then? Did he want her as his partner anymore? Did he want her as a friend, even? Did he want her around, now that she ruined everything between them by trusting his best mate? Everything with the Devil had somewhat spiraled out of control—to the point of her needing fucking therapy?

[You don’t NEED it.]
/Maybe Clark can help…/

”Fuck off.” She uttered under her breath. The voices were relentless. She looked up at the bartender who stopped just in front of her with their eyes pulled together. Offended. Tch.

{Keep moving, Blondie.}

Katarina waved her hand to dismiss her, mixed with the mild expression of apology as she tried not to piss off the woman making her drinks. She’d be here for a while, she knew, and didn’t need that sort of negative attention when there was a storm cloud looming over her wherever she went, anyway.

She stretched her arms and rolled her shoulders, in an attempt to get comfortable in her rather uncomfortable wooden barstool. Katarina waited for nothing in particular. She just wanted to be alone.
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