Morgan was working her night job.

By night, she was a bartender at a small, hole-in-the-wall type Queer bar, by day, she was a mechanic, providing she wasn't hungover.

She was making a fancy, expensive cocktail for another high-maintenance femme.

She was bobbing her head to the bar's music, in her element as the femme whined about "slow servers."

Bullshit, but Morgan wasn't going to call her on it.

Just as she finished making the ridiculous drink, one of the bar's regulars walked in.

This regular in particular was a lovely-looking woman who typically ordered Whisky on the rocks.

Simple.

Thank fuck.

"Hey. The usual?"

(User) nodded, leaning over the chipped, wooden bar counter to grab some pretzels and pinch Morgan's waist.