As it happens, I had so much fun writing the second instalment of this verse, that I decided to write more! If this is the first one you're reading, I'd suggest reading the first two instalments which are chapter 17 and 18 of my Lucky Feather and Magic Knickers compilation and written for OQ fix-it week (18 is first, 17 is second - as I wasn't planning on writing more, there are some chronological errors between the two pieces). There'll be more coming, however, including a Christmas fic!

Thank you, Lindsay, for beta-ing. This chapter is dedicated to Steph, who is a good friend of mine and also about to take aim at poverty by embarking on a year-long volunteer trip to Vietnam, like the amazing lady she is! Please consider donating to the volunteer program, the link of which you can find on Steph's pinned tweet (she is politeregal). Mwah!

I don't own OQ, apparently. Or Roni. Do I own Joe? Sorta? I don't know..!

Roni doesn't see Joe for a few days after their accidental date. Not purposely, of course - he was due a few days off after that as a thank you for the overtime for that event (not date… is it even a date if neither of them were technically a willing participant?) then Theo got ill and of course, she wouldn't make him work when his son needed him.

It's a Friday night shift, busy when he comes in and she calls for him to get working as soon as he can. The customers are rowdy tonight - the Seattle Sharks are playing the Hyperion Hawks and Roni's has become a sports bar once again, with everyone from her friend Henry to Weaver nursing their various tipples, cheering on their home team (they're all Hyperion fans, naturally - Roni's is a sort of unofficial supporters bar), hyping the Hyperions, Joe calls it, murmuring to her that he never understood the appeal of American Football when real football - soccer - was where it was at.

He wished he'd not said that quite so loud, the customers giving him a good-natured jeer as he defends himself, that the almighty Tottenham Hotspur were the only football team he needed in his life.

"Mmm, probably best not to say that when all the people here tonight are more than likely here for the game," Roni notes with a grin and a nudge, indicating to the screens above.

"Really busy huh? Why didn't you call me in earlier?"

"Theo mainly - you're already doing me a huge favour by being here tonight," she responds, pushing a rogue curl behind her ear and passing a pint over the bar, asking for payment in her usual friendly manner.

"He's much better - he's got a Despicable night planned with Big Guy." Roni's brow furrows, not understanding. "Despicable Me. All the films."

"Oh, right," she shrugs. "Never seen them."

"Surprising, seeing as you know Theo. Tell him and he'll demand you sit and watch at least the first one with him. Will probably name you one of his minions."

Roni chuckles at that; so that's what those little yellow tic-tac things were called. "Maybe I will though, I mean, I quite like watching films. If you'll be there..?"

Their eyes meet then, the contact broken almost immediately by a request for yet another ale. "Coming right up!" She calls back, all but forgetting what they were discussing.

As expected, the Seattle Sharks win the game - and by a country mile too - the Hyperions getting all manner of curses from many of the drunk spectators, throwing hands at the screen as the shamed players walk off the pitch, leaving the Sharks to gloat and revel in all their glory. Roni groans; she knows instinctively that the end of the match does not mean last orders and that most of these drunk citizens will demand more drinks and goodness knows how many taxis later, Henry doling out Swyft codes like no tomorrow (not that they're gonna be in any fit state of mind to use their apps, let alone the codes, Roni reminds him, but it's the thought that counts).

She just hopes to God no fights break out again, especially with Weaver and Rogers in attendance.

Her hopes are thankfully met, most having drowned their sorrows relatively responsibly, leaving the bar in its usual post-Friday mess. Sighing, Roni takes a rag to the bar and begins to wipe it clean, ridding the tables of used glasses and putting them in the dishwasher - that'll wait 'til morning.

"Hey Roni, I'm off." She turns to find Joe with his jacket slung over his shoulder and a hand raised in goodbye.

"Thank you so much for this evening," she reiterates as she moves around the tables, collecting any stray trash that she can see. "Really, I appreciate it." She rounds the bar again then, grabbing the bottle of gin and measuring herself out a shot.

"Not drinking alone are you?" Joe asks, brow raised.

"Yep, unless you want to join me." She holds up the tiny glass and raises it into the air. Joe's immediately opposite her, jacket on the stool beside him as she passes him a glass. They toast to the success of the evening then knock it back, wincing at the taste, strangely enjoying the warm sensation drifting down their throats and into their stomachs.

"I needed that," Roni admits. "Perhaps we should have some soccer nights. Can't be any worse than what we have on American football nights," she emphasises for Joe.

Joe laughs - she really has no idea. "Yes, you may think that, but I've known fans to kick chairs when their beloved team gets scored against."

Roni winces, a smirk forming on her face. "Was that you?"

The Brit puts his hand to his chest in mock hurt. "Me, milady? You must think me some lager lout."

She stares. "What?" He explains the very British phrase, leaving Roni to shake her head. "Well okay, no… but really? Why do people get like that over sports? It's just a game!"

It's Joe's turn to stare then. "And that, my dear, is what you do not say on game nights. Especially not in a bar. Especially not amongst rabid fans."

"Well, sue me, but it's true. I don't understand." Roni empties the cash register as she speaks, counting the night's takings. That along with card payments, she's made a decent amount of money tonight. Enough to keep her beloved bar out of trouble. "I don't understand but if it makes people happy, why the hell not?" She pauses. "And If it makes people miserable… is it worth the bother?" She shrugs her bare shoulders and secures the money, taking it through to the safe in her office.

Joe watches as she comes back and places both arms on the bar, slumping against it, tired. "One more for the road?" She wiggles her brows and indicates down to the gin.

"Drinking away your profits, Roni? I would never." She smirks - she's made a good living tonight, a little indulgence won't hurt. "I shouldn't, one is plenty if I'm driving."

She nods. "Of course. Roni's absolutely does not tolerate drinking and driving." She pours another for herself. "I'm glad I live upstairs."

He is full of admiration for this woman that built this place - built herself - from the ground up; how she's become a pillar of the community, created a safe space for all walks of life and dedicated herself to it all. Some may call her bloody stubborn; he'd call her ferociously dedicated.

Not that it hasn't been to the detriment of her private life — or lack of. They shared that moment the week before and as much as he doesn't want to admit it, he's had the whole exchange firmly on his mind. And so…

"Roni, there's something I'd like to ask you."

"You have my full attention, as always," she smiles, putting the gin bottle back in its rightful place.

"Last week, we-"

"Didn't we just," she replies, licking her lips. After they read Henry's email, the two of them decided to call it a night, embarrassed that they fell into that trap and Henry nor Lucy got away with their little prank.

"Mhm. Well, no matter what Henry or Lucy did or didn't do, it was pretty damn real." Roni considers this for a moment before shrugging, supposing he's correct. "And so, I'd like to take it upon myself to ask you on a date."

Roni sighs. "You know my rule - no dating the staff. You're no exception." Except for that one night, but that was a kiss, not a relationship or... whatever.

"Then I'll quit."

"No! Joe, I need you here, you're the only person I can depend on, come rain or shine in this damn place. I trust you." She sighs. She could just do it, but if it all goes wrong…

It gives him great comfort to know she places trust in him, despite his somewhat chequered past. "I know what you're thinking, what if it all goes wrong? And I respect that, of course I do. I can't help but think the same thing," he nods. "I had a great time last week though and if we could do that again as friends, I'd be quite satisfied."

She's conflicted on a multitude of layers but she forces herself to nod. "You're on. Pasta salad, candlelight and company. Here. Next Monday." Roni's closes early on a Monday night to give the poor woman a chance to recharge her batteries and she thinks this might be the perfect respite to her normal way of a couple of drinks and passing out from sheer fatigue at 8pm.

"I'm in. It's not a date."

She laughs. "It most certainly is not. Now, off you go, Joseph. Enjoy the rest of your night. Give Theo a hug from RonRon." She'd always laughed at the boy's name for her, always found it highly endearing. Rather like his father.

"Night then, RonRon," he laughs, backing out of the building, Roni watching his retreating back as the doors close behind him, locking up as he does.

Monday is not a date. It is not a date.