"Did your father pull it in in time this year?" he asked her.
"Not a day too late, I assure you. Crisp and clean, no bitterness to 'er at all."
"Then bring a pitcher or two, Noreen, and the mugs from all the way back in the freezer. Nothin' worse than a warm mug to spoil a good beer."
"So, Capt'n. Ya gonna tell us a tale or two, or do we have to ask Noreen...", Donovan asked, complete with the Riker-esque smile.
"Oh, now," Colin warned, but with a warm smile as Noreen finished taking drink orders and flounced away (truly, the best word for how the young lady moved) "it'd be considered less than honorable to turnin' a man's family against him. Especially so naive and trusting a child as Noreen."
From across the room, a bar towel was launched at his head. He caught it easily and used it to wipe the table in front of them, almost as if that had been the reason it'd been thrown at him. "What kind of tales would ya be wantin'?" he asked, his brogue a bit deeper now that he was back in the Emerald land. "Like how I was born a poor lad just a few miles from here? No, that's not true, actually. I was born on Starbase 313. My father was based out of there on border patrol at the time. The Fitzgeralds do go back a few millenia, though, right here in the Dublin bay area. All the way back to days when the Norsemen came ashore here."
--
Randy
Randy
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