"The Tawdy, Sam. I need a stiff drink." Shay said, not buying into the counter-arguments, the excuses, for why the job was necessary. He knew exactly what they were saying, and he didn't disagree entirely. It was just a lot harder to take advantage of someone who opened their doors to you and treated you like a human being, especially when the rest of society was so quick to ostracize Irishmen like Shay. He had more in common with a pair of German aristocrats than the average Londoner walking down the street.

The Peugeot rumbled across the countryside back into the city proper, and the familiar winding streets brought them back into the snow-covered cobblestone of Southwark. Sam pulled them up to the side of the road, and for once, Shay didn't have to pretend to be a gentleman. He left the car without a word, pulling his coat closer about his frame and headed into the pub, leaving Sam and Vera behind.

"Something's up his arse," Sam observed, although his tone was one of concern rather than indignant. "He say what's been troubling him?"

Inside, Shay walked to the bar, lifting the waist-high barrier and stepping behind it, much to Frankie's surprise. 

"Begging your pardon, Frankie; pay me no mind, I've got this covered." He said, plucking a glass from under the counter and a bottle of some Yank bourbon from the shelf behind him before heading around to the opening where he came, sitting down on a padded brown leather seat, setting the bottle and glass down before him, wasting no time in filling the glass up until half an inch short of the rim. 

Frankie stepped before him, not reaching for the bottle to stop Shay. "What's troublin' you, lad?"

"If I got into it, Frankie, we'd be here all night. Wishing deep down I didn't have a bloody conscious or the capacity to love." Shay replied, knocking back the glass and downing half of it. If the hard liquor bothered him, it didn't show. His expression didn't shift.

"Ah," Frankie said, wiping the counter down in front of Shay. He was the kind of man who had a hard time standing still, and so he kept busy. "Couldn't help but notice you'd been rather close with lady Vera the past while. Begging your Pardon, Shay, but I can tell you care for her. I haven't seen you look at anyone like that before, and you actually looked happy after you started getting paired up with her. Now you look like the Reaper's been looking for you."

"Hm." Was the non-committal reply. Shay didn't bother meeting Frankie's gaze.

"Word of advice, Shay? Don't lose hope in those you love. They'll stumble from time to time, as will you. Way I see it, she sees you for you, and not just what you are. Don't be so quick to discard what that's worth."

"Since when do you know or care so much about people?" Shay asked, regarding Frankie wearily behind a tilted back glass.

The barkeep smiled in reply. "Been working here as long as I care to remember, I notice everything, my boy. Remember that while you pound back five shillings worth of bourbon; while the lot of you are getting tossed, your tongues waggle freely and I know a lot more about you lot than you'd be comfortable with. I know you wanted to pay Lizzy's way over to London, Shay, because you miss having a family."

Shay's features hardened. "I don't appreciate you eavesdropping, Frankie." 

"And I don't appreciate you coming around back here and helping yourself, but point is, even thought you only told Sam about that little detail, I still heard it. Liquor might mask your pain for a time, but it'll come back to haunt you if you aren't careful."

"Such a cheerful way of keeping customers engaged in what you're pushing." Shay replied sarcastically, sighing, and looking back at the now opening door, where Vera and Sam were coming inside. "I just don't know what to make of her anymore, Frankie. I'm afraid she's going to always go back to choosing her vices instead of me." He said, expression downcast. "The way she spoke on the drive back, it was cold, ruthless. Ever feel like you're in a place you should have never been?"

"Think I grew up wanting to serve drinks to a street gang in my middle-years?" Frankie asked rhetorically. "I wanted to be a bloody architect, or veterinarian, or something. Life takes us unexpected places, and brings people we don't expect in our lives. You may feel like most of the world hates you because of things you can't help, Shay. I know you feel that way. The good things don't always come easy, and sometimes you have to work at it to make it work." he said, looking up and smiling as Vera approached.

"Lady Vera, a pleasure as always. What can I get for you?" He asked, winking at Shay when Vera's gaze was averted.