Derek puts a fifty dollar bill down — he still hasn't figured out that money is pretty worthless in this place and he happens to have one in his wallet from home — and picks up the glass, knocking it back with abandon like they do in the movies. He assumes that's accurate to reality, right? It must be.

It burns all the way down and that shows on his face for a second before he sets the glass down and gestures with two fingers beckoning for the bartender to keep them coming. He might have lots of time or he might have damn near none; he's not screwing around. If he's going to get the job done right, then he needs to get it done fast, just in case.

Hearing the voice off to the side, Derek looks over, surprised to see that the blonde woman has moved a little closer.

"Neither?" he asks more than answers. "Just drinking to drink. It's that kind of night, I decided," he answers honestly. Well. Sort of honestly.