the holidays linger like bad perfume - chapter 1/3 - ao3
It’s the kind of bar that only a local could love, and that only a person with severely limited options could patronize on a freezing Wednesday night. Mulder fits both of these categories, so here he sits, a Narragansett sweating in his hand.
It’s one of the many places on Martha’s Vineyard that is aimed at tourism, what with its artfully draped fishing nets and plastic lobsters decorating the walls. The only thing that sets it apart is that, luckily, The Happy Clam does not close during the off-season.
He’s contemplating the ridiculousness of naming a place after a clam and then decorating its interior with lobsters when the door in the corner swings open, bringing in an icy wind and a petite figure wrapped in a puffer jacket that is far too light for the climate. A tourist, most likely. Few and far between as the night swallows up the sky earlier and earlier every day, but never completely gone from the island.
He watches with mild interest, torn between his surroundings and the Patriots game on the television, as the newcomer settles onto a stool at the other end of the bar and sheds her soaked jacket.
Her hair glows copper in the cheap Christmas lights hanging over the bar, but most prominent is the scowl on her face as she shakes out her hair in a vain attempt to dry it.
“Not a fan of the lovely weather, huh?”
alphafemale-atrocities
