Title: The Last Drop

Author: Rubious

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: humor, alcohol, cursing, AU-OOC.

Disclaimer: Get Backers © Aoki and Ayamine. This story is a work of fan fiction and is intended for entertainment purposes only.

 Note: While on a retrieval mission, Ban and Ginji stop at a bar.

 

//thoughts//

 

* * *

Caught by the suddenness of the afternoon thunderstorm, the two retrievers scurried through the crowded sidewalks of Tokyo’s Ginza district; Ban Mido elbowed a path while his partner, Ginji Amano, apologized to any offended pedestrian. Tired and drenched, the Get Backers almost walked past their destination when Ginji noticed the small script-written sign on the oaken door of the Eden Hall. “This is it,” he called out to Ban.

“About damn time,” Ban muttered sullenly. ‘It’s the last place on the list.” Paul, the Honky Tonk’s owner, had hired the pair to track down a missing shipment of gourmet coffee. But their search had been fruitless thus far.

“Hurry up and get out of the rain,” Ginji said, holding the door open for Ban. The heavy front door closed slowly behind them.

As Ban shook off the water droplets like a wet dog, he surveyed his surroundings. The tavern’s interior featured mahogany paneling and mood lighting from wall-mounted sconces. An ice sculpture of a goddess shimmered on display at the far end of the room. Rows of liquor bottles were arrayed on shelves behind the bar where a man dressed in the standard bartender uniform conversed with the only customer, a brunette with shoulder-light hair dressed in a neat business suit, while he dutifully wiped the counter with a towel.

“This place has as much business as the Honky Tonk,” Ban whispered. Ginji nodded. The bartender paused in his conversation and warmly greeted the newcomers.

Striding over, Ban perched on a barstool while Ginji chose the one next to him. “Got any coffee?” he inquired.

Miwa Kurashima watched the pair with bemusement. “You might need this,” she said, taking a tissue from her purse and offering it to the bespectacled retriever. She regarded the pair as an odd couple; the dark-haired guy was arrogant while the blond seemed easygoing. Opposites attract, she thought. Glancing at her watch, she realized she was late for a business meeting with hotel management. “I hope it’s stopped raining.”

Before Ban could answer, the bartender placed two steaming mugs of coffee before the Get Backers. Taking a sip, Ban remarked, “Damn fine cup of coffee.” After tasting his, Ginji echoed the favorable comment. The bartender nodded approvingly.

“Have a good day, miss,” Ginji said as Miwa headed towards the door.

“Good-bye,” she said. Glancing back, she winked at Ban and waved to the bartender. “Take good care of them, Ryu,” Miwa said as she walked out the door.

Ryu Sasakura, the bartender, returned to wiping down the counter. He was a renowned talent who had won international competitions, but remained very mysterious. His twinkling eyes and pleasant manner added to the almost therapeutic rapport the bartender had with his customers. Ryu noticed that the one who had ordered the coffee appeared to be deep in thought. “Is there anything else I can get for you?” he asked politely.

Savoring its richness as he gulped the last of the coffee, Ban reflected on what had been a nonproductive day. Paul’s list had sent the Get Backers driving all over the city in search of the missing coffee. On the waterfront they crossed paths with two “snatchers”, who were based out of the Café Roost, The snatchers were after a cocaine shipment. When Ginji asked for their assistance, they laughed derisively. Ban wanted to thrash the punks. Clenching his fists, he growled, “Caffeine can be as addictive as crack.” The snatchers walked away, leaving ban fuming.

Their previous stop before Eden Hall was a flower shop where the lone florist working appeared to be in a quandary over something. He just shook his head when asked about any coffee delivery. As they exited the store, Ginji whispered, “Wasn’t that…?”

“Just another washed-up athlete,” Ban retorted, starting up the Subaru. The former soccer player’s scandal didn’t match the banner headlines of roid-raging wrestlers or quarterbacks indicted on charges of illegal dog fighting.

Focusing on their present situation, Ban growled, “What a shitty day!” Glancing up at Ryu, he muttered, “I could use a stiff drink.”

Hearing those words, Ginji looked at him disbelievingly. “Ban-chan, don’t you know we’re on the job.”

“Let’s make it happy hour. Don’t you know it’s five o’clock somewhere? Besides we’re in the last place on the stinking list. Paul isn’t gonna know we stopped for a drink. And how could this day get any worse.”

Ginji chuckled nervously and raised his left arm behind his head. “Um… I think I left the windows open in the car.” With the afternoon showers, any rain that fell would have soaked the Subaru’s interior.

“Idiot!” Ban wheeled around and smacked the blond on the head. He had parked the car in an alley to avoid getting a parking ticket. If the Get Backers accumulated any more fines, their vehicle would have been impounded. To Ban, it wasn’t worth the time or effort to run out in a rainstorm, race across town to close a car window and have wet seats on the ride home.

Ryu asked the retriever, “What can I get you?”

Scowling, Ban replied in a low voice, “Anything with a kick to make me forget this rotten day.”

Studying the customer momentarily, the bartender offered, “May I suggest a Snake Bite?”

“Amazing!” Ginji exclaimed. Ban didn’t seem impressed by Ryu’s suggestion.

Ryu took a bottle of Yukon Jack from a lower shelf and mixed it with some lime juice, serving it on the rocks in a highball class. He placed it on a napkin before Ban. “Enjoy.”

Grabbing the cocktail glass, Ban gulped down the amber libation and demanded another drink. Before fixing another Snake Bite, the bartender glanced at Ginji for a moment and commented, “For you I’d recommend a Lightning Rod.”

The electric Get Backer stared wide-eyed. “How do you know what people want?”

Ryu replied wryly, “Bartenders have the unique ability to suggest the appropriate beverage for a customer at any particular moment.”

“The guy we know just puts everything on out tab and wants to get paid,” Ban grumbled.

“Hey, where’s my drink?”

Ignoring the complaint, Ryu then began preparing Ginji’s drink by pouring a shot of vodka and mixing it with cola over ice in an old-fashioned glass and presented it to the blond. “Enjoy.” Ginji raised his glass in a toast, draining it quickly, and requested another Lightning Rod.

During the ensuing forty minutes, each retriever had downed two more cocktails. They were feeling no pain at the moment. Neither Get Backer had eaten since leaving the Honky Tonk early that morning when they had mooched a bagel and coffee from Paul, who sighed deeply when Ban said “to put it on their tab.” With no food in their stomachs, the alcohol was taking its full effect.

Ginji peered at the bartender over the rim of his glass. Uneasy thoughts churned in his mind. Setting the drink down, he got off his stool and stumbled a few steps before bracing himself against Ban’s shoulder. In a hushed tone, he slurred, “Are you sure that isn’t Akabane?” referring to the bartender, who watched the pair with quaint interest.

Guffawing, Ban replied, “No, he couldn’t be…” The idea that their nemesis, the deadly Dr. Jackal, could possibly have a twin was preposterous. Or that he had taken up bartending on the side was equally outrageous. The only things Akabane could carve up at a bar were lemons and ice; none of which would be enjoyable enough to a man who derived great pleasure from killing. Reassured that the bartender wasn’t another person, Ginji returned to his stool while Ban ordered another drink.

After being served, Ban took a deep breath and ranted about the Honky Tonk’s owner. “That bastard sent us on a wild goose chase. Makin’ us chase all over Tokyo for some damn coffee! Why couldn’t he just order some from Starbucks? We’re not his freaking errand boys; we’re the invincible Get Backers!” With that, he downed the Snake Bite and slammed the glass emphatically on the counter.

Ryu arched an eyebrow. Having heard drunken customers rail about nasty bosses, nagging spouses, or even bad hair days, he was there to lend a sympathetic ear. In this case, he might have something besides alcohol that would appease the ranting retriever. “Some missing coffee, you say? A package was delivered here in error a few days ago, but we couldn’t contact the sender of the mistake. Could this possibly be yours?” He bent down and brought up a small carton to show the Get Backers.

“Hell, yeah!” Ban yelled. “This is the shit we’ve been looking for.” The box had been shipped from Roanapur by the Lagoon Company. Ginji came over to high-five his partner.

“One more for the road!” The Jagan-user shouted in a celebratory tone.

Ryu stared at the duo and stated firmly, “You’re in no condition to drink any more alcohol, let alone getting behind the wheel.”

Feeling defiant, Ban retorted, “Fuck y—,” but he passed out before he could finish.

“Ban-chan!” Ginji called out, rushing over to check on his partner.

“He’ll be fine. Let me call you a cab,” the bartender offered, a gentle reassurance heard in his voice.

“That’s funny. I’m a cab,” the blond said giddily as he stood watch over his snoring partner. Ryu excused himself to call for a taxi for the too-drunk-to-drive retrievers.

Twenty minutes passed before a horn tooted outside Eden Hall, signaling the arrival of the cab. Ginji struggled to heft the snoring Ban to his feet, but he succeeded and the pair wove unsteadily out to the waiting vehicle. Ryu followed carrying the carton of coffee.

While the retrievers collapsed in the cab’s back seat, the bartender directed the driver, a burly man with dark eyes and wearing a white headband, to take the passengers to the Honky Tonk in Shinjuku.

As he drove off, the cabbie glanced in his rear-view mirror at the drunken riders sprawled in the back and smirked. If they only knew, he thought.

At the Honky Tonk, Paul, the café’s proprietor, hung up the phone and faced Natsumi and Hevn, who were sitting at the counter. “Ban and Ginji are on their way. Their cab should be here shortly,” he announced to the waitress and the blonde coordinator.

“A cab? I hope nothing bad happened to them,” Natsumi wondered hopefully.

“Knowing those two, their Subaru probably got towed to the impound lot and Ban didn’t have any money to pay the police impound fee,” Hevn remarked.

Outside the rain had stopped and the afternoon sky had begun to clear. Children scurried past the café, shouting gleefully as they stomped in puddles, splashing each other. Soon a taxi drove up and parked at the curb where Paul and Hevn met the cab. As the cab screeched to a stop, Ginji bumped against his spiky-haired partner, waking him. “Ban-chan, we’re home. And Paul-san and Hevn-san are waiting for us.”

Rubbing his temple, Ban said tiredly, “What truck ran me over?” The cabbie smiled.

Paul paid the driver and gave him a healthy tip. “Thank you very much, Magaruma-san,” he said quietly. He smirked at the knowledge that the driver was the Get Backers’ Transporter rival, Mr. No-Brake.

Exiting the cab, Ban tripped on the curb and stumbled towards Hevn. He grabbed her breasts to brace himself from falling on the pavement. Leering, he took a whiff or her heady perfume as he rested his head in her ample cleavage. ‘Pervert!” the blond woman scolded as Ginji rushed in to steer Ban towards the front door.

“You know he did that on purpose,” Hevn told Paul huffily as Ban grinned lasciviously. She stared daggers at the Get Backer.

Before Paul could respond, Ginji presented him with the misdelivered package. “Master, here’s your coffee. And I’m sorry for Ban-chan too,” he said apologetically.

Paul smiled graciously, “Thank you.”

Later that evening, Paul brewed a pot of the newly acquired coffee for himself and Hevn. Natsumi had departed earlier to practice for an upcoming ping pong tournament. Watching Paul use the French press to ready the coffee so effortlessly, she remarked admirably, “You make it look so easy.”

“Well, even a caveman could do it,” Paul quipped.

“Just like those two,” Hevn giggled, gesturing to the sleeping Get Backers who were sprawled in a booth. Sipping her coffee, she glimpsed behind Paul on the counter a bottle of wine. Her curiosity piqued, she asked him, “Is that Marine Red? I thought all the other bottles were smashed and Ishikura has the other bottles.” She was referring to a recent mission the Get Backers had succeeded in retrieving wine that had been at the bottom of the ocean for over 60 years.

The proprietor smiled knowingly. “It’s a similar vintage. I plan to open it for a special occasion.” Paul noticed the hopeful gleam in the blonde’s golden eyes and added, “Would you like to join me for a gourmet dinner tomorrow evening?”

Accepting the invitation, Hevn requested more coffee, which Paul obliged.

Seeing the wine next to the French press on the counter, Paul reflected that enjoying a fine wine or premium coffee with good company is one of life’s simple pleasures, And both are good to the last drop.

The End

Author’s Notes

1.) The Snake bite recipe is 2 ounces of Yukon Jack and a dash of lime juice. The Lightning Rod recipe is pour 1 ounce of vodka and 3 ounces of Jolt cola over ice cubes.

2.) The Marine Red arc in Get Backers is found in volumes 18 and 19.

3.) For more information on future writing projects, please check out my blog at weisshund.livejournal.com.