Writer. Artist. Lindy hopper. Collector of melancholy quotes and pretty people.

Posts tagged that means femyork is robin sherbatsky.

RvB: Pick Up Artists (Happy Birthday Larissa!)

“No, no, York, you really don’t-” Wash whispered hurriedly, falling silent as his friend already turned around and captured an unsuspecting passing-by woman.

“Hey,” York said, charming, friendly smile in place. The girl smiled back and York steered her around to the bar, saying “haaaaave you met Wash?”

She smiled, a bit confused but rolling with it as best she can, putting her drink down on the counter. In front of her was a man, good build, fairly attractive, and with half the confidence of his mysteriously vanishing friend.

“Um, hi. I’m Wash.”

A fourth the confidence of his friend. “Constance,” she said, extending her hand. He gave her a slightly odd look before shaking it.

“Of course it is,” he muttered, and then gestured for her to sit. “Sorry about my friend.”

“Yeah,” she said, and looked around. York seemed to be pretty good at vanishing in a crowd when needed. “You guys work together?”

“Something like that.” Wash turned so he would be facing his new slightly reluctant companion. “What do you do, Constance?”

“I’m a nurse,” she said, smiling because she said she’d go out and have a good time tonight, and that’s what she’s going to do.

“I could use some healing,” Wash said, and he tried raising his eyebrows. “I’m sorry, that was awful. Just. Pretend I didn’t say it.”

“Were you trying to use a line on me?” she asked, smiling.

“Maybe,” Wash teased, playing off the endearing feeling he was getting. “You come here often?”

She laughed, and he slapped a hand to his face at the realization of how cliche that one sounded, too. “Yeah, I live close by.”

Wash looked at her for a moment, a moment too long as she sat in the seat and sipped her drink. His eyes narrowed and he squinted at her for a moment before taking a deep breath in. “Look, Constance, right? I have to say, you’re wasting your time.”

“What?” she said, giving Wash the option to backpedal. She took another sip of her drink and started to look around to make sure her friends could see where she was.

“You’re very pretty. Kind of gorgeous, actually. But I’m kind of… well.”

She nodded as it all fell into place. “You’re with her.”

“Not really,” Wash said. “Not officially, not as far as she knows…”

Constance smiled, instantly more comfortable. “I get it. I do. What’s her name?”

“York,” Wash said, relieved. “I’m sorry.”

“You should tell your friend to stop trying to fix you up with people.” Constance got up, scooping up her drink and setting her sights on the other men at the bar. “Might remove awkward situations in the future.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Wash said with a chuckle as she walked away. He had barely turned back to the bar when there was a tap on his shoulder.

“What’s up, why aren’t you on your way to getting laid right now?” York said, bluntly, depositing herself in the seat next to him.

“Not interested,” Wash mumbled into his beer.

“Sorry to hear that, man,” York said, ordering herself another round. “I could look around, get you someone else?”

“Nah,” Wash said, “how about we just drink?”

York smiled at this response, holding up her now-full beer mug for a toast. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with a plan like that!”