Mocktail Madness

Morgaine was well aware of three pairs of eyes fixed intently on him as he retrieved a fresh pitcher of iced tea and a jar of lemon-infused simple syrup, before pouring both into the waiting cocktail shaker on the bar. He shook the mixture with more of a flourish than usual, making sure that it was good and thoroughly blended, then swept up a chilled martini glass and poured the mixed tea into it in one fluid motion. He popped a lemon slice onto the rim of the glass for good measure before sweeping it around and presenting it to Dove, who was perched on a barstool with their hands clasped in anticipation as they watched him work.

“Ta-da!” He crowed. “Your very own mar-tea-ni.” Dove giggled and accepted the glass, bringing it to their lips for a quick sip.

Beanny, seated to one side of Dove, applauded the display. To their other side, Jackal just snorted, but she was clearly in good spirit too, nursing her own drink. (Just a regular beer for her; she supported the mocktail experimentation for the cherubuns, but she had an image to maintain. Also, she just liked beer.)

“And what’ll it be for you, miss?” Morgaine leaned one elbow on the bar as he addressed Beanny, letting his accent really dip into a thick drawl for a moment. She didn’t even try to keep a straight face, grinning back at him.

“A bloody mary!” She announced proudly.

Morgaine raised his eyebrows at her. “Oh? Not what I’d have guessed, but I can whip that right up for you.”

“What?” Beanny asked, feigning innocence. “It’s a breakfast drink, isn’t it?”

“A certain kind of breakfast, sure,” he chuckled, turning back to gather the necessary ingredients.

All told, it hadn’t taken that much convincing to turn his boss onto the idea of expanding their menu to cater to the ever-growing population of cherubuns in Burrowgatory. It let Morgaine flex his skills and show off a bit too; there were a lot of interesting mixtures you could come up with when the subtleties of the drink weren’t going to be drowned out by strong alcohol. The inaugural mocktail special wasn’t likely to turn out more popular than regular drinks, but they’d done good business throughout the evening so far. If things kept on as they had been, making this a semi-regular occurrence would be on the table.

Morgaine certainly wasn’t opposed; there was a lot less to clean up when fewer of the customers got completely trashed by the end of the night.

For Beanny’s bloody mary, he pulverized some celery, onions, horseradish, and a dash of hot sauce in the food processor before dumping it all in a pitcher to mix with tomato juice. This all then went into a tall, cold glass and was topped with a leafy celery sprig, and he slid it over to Beanny.

“All yours, sugar.”

She picked up the glass and took a long sip, much like Dove had. “Mm… it’s good, but it could be spicier,” she said, with a playful smile. Morgaine retrieved the bottle of hot sauce and set it firmly next to the glass before her, making her laugh. To her credit, she did follow through and stirred another small drizzle of the sauce into her drink before going in for another sip.

Morgaine glanced over to Dove, who had nearly finished their own drink. “Need a refill? Want to try something else?”

“Um…” They picked up the menu he’d handed them when they first sat down and scanned it. “Could I try a pina colada this time?”

“You most certainly can, sugar.” Morgaine swept away again to fulfill the order. Pineapple juice mixed with other fruit juices went into the cocktail shaker this time, joined by coconut milk and honey, all to receive another vigorous mixing. He was getting a good shoulder workout tonight. Maybe they ought to make this a regular thing just for the exercise.

Dove’s new drink went into a fresh glass; Morgaine speared some pineapple cubes on a tiny plastic sword for the garnish and set it before them, clearing away the finished martini glass as he did so.

“And voila.”

Dove smiled and picked up the little sword with its impaled fruits first. They ate one of the pieces of pineapple on it before handing it to Jackal, who finished off the rest. Morgaine watched their expression turn from curious to thoughtful as they sampled the pina colada, with its stronger, sweeter blend of fruity flavors compared to the iced tea.

“Good?” He asked.

“It’s good!” They confirmed, taking another drink. He smiled and turned his attention to Jackal.

“How about you? Holding up okay?”

“I could use another one of these,” she said, wiggling the empty beer bottle in her hand at him with a grin. Morgaine obligingly took the bottle and returned with a fresh one, popping the top for her before handing it over. “Thanks, man. This place is actually kind of nice.”

“We’ll treasure your positive review,” Morgaine informed her with as much gravity as he could muster. Jackal flipped him the bird, but in as relaxed and playful a manner as one could, so he accepted it as a gesture of relative goodwill.

With the trio satisfied for the moment, Morgaine moved away to attend to other customers at the bar, losing himself for a little while in the comfortable level of bustle. Some of the cherubun guests took longer to relax than others, but the atmosphere in the bar was largely cheerful. It was a good energy to carry him through the night’s shift.

He didn’t initially look up when he heard the bar’s front door jingle open; buns had been coming and going all evening, and it was background noise to him most nights anyway. He did metaphorically perk up his ears when a familiar but admittedly unexpected voice reached him through the crowd.

“Excuse me… excuse me… pardon me… what? No, I’m not- excuse me- ah!”

Lo and behold, who should be winding his way towards the bar but Primrose. Morgaine waved to catch his attention, and Primrose made a beeline for him, looking ruffled but faintly relieved when he reached the place where Dove, Jackal, and Beanny were seated.

Dove lit up when they caught sight of him. “You came!” They jumped up from their own stool and ushered Primrose over to the free spot on the other side of Jackal. He may not have needed the direction, but then again, he may have remained standing at attention before the bar for who knew how long without it.

“Ah. Yes. Thank you.” Primrose eased himself onto the barstool as though prepared for it to attack him. He nearly fell off of it again when Jackal slung her arm around his shoulders.

“Well look who it is!” She said, loudly enough for several other patrons to turn in their direction out of curiosity. Primrose went bright red and mumbled something that was lost in the noise of the bar before shaking her arm off.

At the other end of the group, Beanny took some pity on Primrose and slid her menu across the bar to him. “Here, have a look at the menu! These are all alcohol-free.”

“That’s right, go ahead and pick your poison - no actual poison included.” Morgaine took over, shooting Beanny a wink.

For a couple of minutes, it seemed like Primrose was just staring a hole in the menu rather than reading it, but he finally came to a decision. “I would like a- an… orange cream… mimosa. If you please. With none of the ‘mimosa’ part.”

“The ‘mimosa part’ comes from the color,” Morgaine informed him with a slight smile. “So in fact you’re getting only the mimosa part, since there’s no champagne.”

“Ah.” He could practically see the wheels turning in Primrose’s head filing that information away for later use. “Like the plant.”

“Right on the money. And one orange cream mimosa, coming right up.”

One scoop of chilled, sweetened orange ice, a glass of sparkling cider, and a strawberry garnish later, Primrose was bestowed with his very own mocktail. Morgaine liked to think that Primrose didn’t really suspect that Morgaine would poison him, by accident or otherwise, but he made sure to keep the label of the non-alcoholic cider bottle visible during the mixing process nonetheless.

Primrose eyed the drink skeptically, but seemed unable to find fault with it, so he picked it up. “You don’t all have to watch me,” he muttered to Morgaine and the other three before taking a tentative sip. Beanny and Jackal both clapped as he did so, making his cheeks redden again; he took another, bigger gulp seemingly out of spite before setting the glass down more firmly than necessary.

“What do you think?” Morgaine couldn’t resist prodding him for feedback.

“It’s… fruit juice,” Primrose said.

“That it is, hoss. Mocktails are mostly juice, with a few other things thrown in. Gotta take up space in the glass somehow, you know?”

“Well. It’s good.” Primrose seemed a little unsure of that statement himself, but Morgaine would take it.

“Glad to hear it! Stay a while and relax, you could use it.” Morgaine gave Primrose a wink, much as he had Beanny, and swept away again to clear some empty glasses from the other end of the bar. Sink or swim, he thought blithely as Primrose was drawn into animated conversation with the other three.

No matter how the money turned out at the end of the night, it was hard not to call that a success.