A/N: The idea came from a conversation with the lovely Starrylizard, who also helped beta the story, so thank you for that, Lizzie:) All mistakes left are my own. I hope you'll enjoy the story!

"Bloody hell!" Mouse didn't expect that. True, when she told Tomas they should go for a drink, it was for the sole purpose to let him get off some steam. They had been on the road for only two weeks but Mouse had realized very quickly that the man was wound tighter than a spring. She thought having a celebratory beer or two in a sports pub after their first successful exorcism would be a good idea. She hadn't expected Tomas to become all broody, lost in memories, while sipping oh so slowly at his first beer.

"Okay, enough of this nonsense." She slammed her palm on the bar, making Tomas and a few other people in the vicinity jump a little. "Whiskey, twice. Neat," she told the bartender, then turned to face Tomas, who was watching her with some confusion.

"We just saved someone's life and gathered intel that can help save others. I refuse to watch your mopey face all day, just because Marcus is off somewhere enjoying the fact he doesn't have to fight in this war anymore. Let... it... go!" She punctuated the words by a pointed look, grabbing the stale beer in front of Tomas and exchanging it for the glass of whiskey.

"Drink. Then talk or cry or whatever it is you priests do when you need to relax."

Tomas blinked.

"Us priests?" He asked with a raised eyebrow and Mouse shrugged it off, taking hold of her glass.

"Well?" She raised the glass and waited until Tomas acquiesced and did the same.

"To a day gone well," she said and Tomas nodded as Mouse threw the shot back as if it were water.

"To standing in the doorway and pushing back the night," Tomas muttered quietly under his breath and drank down the whiskey, not even trying to stop the grimace on his face. Mouse chuckled and motioned the bartender to give them another shot.

"You really want me to get drunk?" Tomas asked, half amused, half worried. He was already feeling the whiskey warming his mostly empty stomach and knew it wouldn't take much for him to get drunk.

"Depends. Did Marcus ever manage that?"

Tomas thought back to their infrequent pub visits and had to shake his head. Nope, Marcus never managed to get him really drunk, mostly because he never really tried. He came close to it in Chicago, but Tomas knew that if he'd let go at that moment, he would've just said yes to Marcus' offer of becoming an exorcist, drunk on the praise more than anything else. And at that moment, it would've been a mistake.

"Right then. Less thinking, more drinking," Mouse interrupted his line ofthinking and Tomas noticed another shot of whiskey in front of him.

"Are you sure it's smart right now?" he asked quietly, still trying to be the voice of reason, even though with Mouse it was usually the other way around.

"If I wanted, I could out drink half of this pub, Tomas," Mouse said with a smirk then her face turned a bit more serious. "I know my limits. I'd like to know yours. Relax. Let go."

Tomas didn't ask what he should let go, though if Mouse repeated those two words once more, he was sure to start singing a really off-key version of the Frozen song, courtesy of his sister's wicked sense of humor and a collection of Disney movies he got for last Christmas.

"You don't know what you're doing, but as you wish," Tomas drank the second shot of whiskey and gave Mouse a smirk that was eerily similar to Marcus. That was the moment Mouse thought she might've slightly miscalculated.

Mouse decided it would, after all, be wiser to figure out Tomas' tolerance for alcohol in a softer manner so she switched back to beer. Tomas snorted and his eyes glinted when someone started playing with the jukebox.

"Do you dance?" Tomas asked out of the blue and Mouse paled then asked the bartender to bring them a bag of chips and peanuts.

"Not even if you point a gun at my head," she said and pushed the peanuts in front of Tomas, who looked momentarily disappointed.

"So, how does the mighty Mouse relax?" Tomas ignored the peanuts and settled into a more comfortable position, which just meant he was propped against the bar and staring at Mouse unnervingly.

"By eviscerating anyone who calls me mighty mouse," she replied and was dismayed to see that Tomas didn't even flinch. Hm, maybe giving him alcohol was a mistake.

"Any other ways which don't involve knife play?"

"Cheeky," she muttered, then grinned. He wanted to play with her? Well, she was all in. "I'm more of a dungeon girl myself. You know... candles, chains, a bit of holy water..."

There was a startled cough, as the man sitting within earshot started choking on his beer. Mouse's lips twitched as Tomas only reaction was a look of mild interest.

"Really? That sounds so mild, coming from you," he dead panned. "I would've expected at least a whip or a cat-o-nine tails." Mouse could hear the sound of rustling clothes as the man behind her beat a hasty retreat and within seconds they both burst out laughing.

She could already see some of the tension leaving Tomas' shoulder and she also relaxed on her seat. Maybe this won't be such a disaster after all.

Several stories about Tomas' youth and her first experience with altar wine later, she was startled by the announcement of this being the karaoke night. Grimacing at the idea of some poor saps making a fool of themselves in front of half-drunk people, she was just about to suggest that it was time to leave, when the poor half-drunk sap requesting the first song turned out to be Tomas himself. Mouse bit her lip, trying to resolve a dilemma. On one hand, they really wanted to keep low profile and she felt responsible for getting Tomas drunk. On the other hand... she couldn't resist the potential for later ribbing. She wasn't even above recording the show on her cell phone and what the heck, if she ever met Marcus again, she would definitely show it right in front of his face.

Tomas looked a bit unsteady and a bit nervous when he made his way to the small stage, but otherwise undeterred. She was startled when she heard the first tones of one of Enrique Iglesias old songs. She was even more startled when Tomas started singing.

"Would you dance... if I asked you to dance. Would you run, and never look back?"

His voice was smooth and even though his accent was thicker than usual, it didn't take away from the song or from the emotions clearly palpable behind it. Mouse looked around and shook her head in dismay. So much for not getting any attention... she could see that most of the women turned towards Tomas with a longing look in their eyes, which in turn caused their partners to take notice as well. Great, Mouse could already see that their presence wouldn't be quickly forgotten. At least Tomas wasn't wearing his collar and was instead donned in his civilian clothes... which on the other hand didn't pose any deterrent to the single ladies that were already brushing strands of hair from their faces and throwing glances at the bartender, probably planning to order some drinks. Mouse sighed.

Of course Tomas knew how to sing... he just told her about his childhood spent mostly around the church. The choir was a logical free time activity for him, what with his angelic face and all. Mouse startled at the thought and realized she was also watching the man with some longing and humming along. Her eyes widened and she stood, longing for some cold air. Instead, she caught Tomas' attention and pointed towards the toilets. He gave her a soft nod even as he finished the song. Mouse rolled her eyes when she heard the applause of some of the ladies and grinned when she caught sight of Tomas' blushed face as he was trying to return to his seat. It served him right, show off, she thought and entered the bathroom.

Once she was done, she splashed some cold water on her face to chase away the last of the alcohol. Unlike Tomas, after the first two shots she was drinking soda. As she stepped out of the bathroom and noticed the sudden change in the atmosphere, she was glad for that.

"Bloody hell!" Mouse exclaimed when she saw Tomas facing off a guy that was easily a foot taller than him. They seemed to be caught in a heated debate, while a young woman (one that was eyeing Tomas quite openly while he was singing) stood nearby, gnawing at her nail and looking flustered. Mouse had just caught the tail end of the argument 'She's mine, don't you dare to look at her you Mexican scum!' when she noted the tense set of Tomas' shoulder and saw the glint in his eyes. A second later Tomas' fist flew out, hitting the larger man squarely in the jaw.

The man staggered into another table, spilling a few drinks on his way. The girl yelped, Tomas hissed as he felt the pain in his knuckles and a few other guests, possibly the big guy's friends jumped in. Mouse let out a curse, automatically reached for her gun but realized it would be overkill at this point; instead she crossed the pub and grabbed a bottle of beer from someone's table. She held it threateningly in her hands and glared at two men who looked ready to jump Tomas. They backed away.

Tomas meanwhile took a hit from the jealous boyfriend that sent him sprawling on the floor. The boyfriend quickly followed suit and they were brawling on the ground, both drunk but packing punches that hurt.

There was another man that looked tempted to join in, but was also dissuaded when Mouse crashed the bottle against the bar breaking it in half, then pointed at the scar on her cheek.

"Care to guess how I got that one?" she asked with a smirk and nodded in satisfaction when the man raised his arms and stepped back. She looked at the duo still working out their issues on the ground and wondered if she should even try to break it up. Tomas seemed to be holding his own and the punches were getting weaker. He might be bruised and sore in the morning, but that would serve him right for starting this whole affair. Shrugging, Mouse turned to the bartender who was watching the brawl with disinterest.

"I think this should cover our bill for the night. Any damages left, put it on that racist pig's tab, right?"

The bartender gave her a look, took the money and shrugged.

"As long as you get your friend out before they break my furniture, sure. Joey here already has a weekly tab for damages running."

Mouse just shook her head at that and turned towards Tomas and Joey. The fight was pretty much over, both man were now just rolling with the punches. Even the girlfriend seemed to be losing interest and some of the guests already returned to their drinks. With a sigh, Mouse waited for the moment when Tomas was about to deliver an almost 'friendly' tap and grasped his arm.

"I think that's enough, Tomas," she said, pulling him back. Tomas blinked at her, then grinned.

"I won," he stated, ignoring the grumble of protest coming from the other man still on the floor.

"Sure, I'll tell you that in the morning when you can't move," Mouse said with a grin and helped him stand up. They both wobbled until she found her balance and threw Tomas' arm across her shoulder. The way to the exit was clear as people parted from her glare like the red sea. Mouse had to admit, she was rather enjoying how intimidating she could be under the right circumstances.

Tomas, for his part, seemed to ignore everyone as they stumbled out and headed towards their motel. Luckily they weren't far, after all Mouse had pretty much planned this. She wanted Tomas to relax and he did... in his own way. They were halfway to the motel when Tomas snorted and Mouse saw the smile on the face that was already starting to bruise.

"What's so funny, padre?" she asked, seeing the look on his face.

"Marcus always wanted to start a bar fight," Tomas informed her proudly and she snorted.

"So you decided to start one in his name?" She shook her head in amusement, then gritted her teeth as Tomas managed to step on her foot and almost got them both crashing to the ground until she straightened them up. "What an honorable deed, truly. Shall I make you a list of things to accomplish in my honor if we ever part ways?" she asked, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

"Why not? I seem to be pretty good at... driving people away. The least I can do is finish their socket lists," Tomas said self-deprecatingly and Mouse cringed. Here came the brooding again.

"I think you meant a bucket list," she corrected him, not really wanting to breach the topic of people leaving right now. Tomas blinked, looking lost.

"Bucket list? What do we need buckets for?"

Mouse couldn't stop it, she laughed.

"Well, I can imagine at least one thing you'll need the bucket for, come morning."

And when the morning came and found Tomas hugging said bucket, Mouse was sure to use the moment to give him a lesson on how to duck and finish a good pub brawl, instead of starting it.

The end