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JAMESON
"Are you ready to get back to Georgia?" Cuddy asks over the bar height table, handing me a beer out of the bucket he knows damn well I'm not gonna drink.
"Yeah, more than you know."
He pulls his hand to his chest, appalled, "What makes you think I don't have an old lady to get back to?"
Dojo cuts in, "You know Cud, they don't like it when you refer to them as your old lady."
"What do you call them Dojo?" I ask.
"Well, I usually start with Princess and see where that gets me."
Cuddy laughs, "Balls deep in pussy, I bet. Damn, Dojo, you are so romantic. I need lessons."
I stifle a laugh, "I wouldn't say romantic, more like a relentless flirt."
Dojo tips his beer backward with a shrug, "It hasn't steered me wrong yet."
"What about crazy-ass Bethany? Or Cinnamon?"
His smile drops, "That's not fair. Bethany was bipolar, and Cinnamon was a stripper."
Cuddy nudges me with his elbow, "He definitely knows what he's doing."
Dojo looks around the table, "Shut up, we all know the real Casanova here is Jamo. His girl wrote him a letter. None of us got any of that shit."
"That letter was years ago, and it was one letter. It's not like she wrote me all the time. She didn't even want me around our kid."
No one really knows what to say to that, and the waitress dumps a plate of chicken wings down in front of us, the orange fabric of her shorts barely covering her ass cheeks.
Dojo's eyes land on her boobs before bouncing straight back up, "Are you Australian?" He asks her, leaning over the table.
Her brow creases, obviously confused, "Uh, no."
Dojo's perfect white teeth beam, "That's strange cause you seem to meet all of my koala-fications."
She bursts out in laughter, her cheeks turning a little pink, "You guys want another bucket of beer?"
Cuddy nods, "Yeah, that'd be great, thanks."
We sit and talk planes and about the training mission we did last night. The waitress comes back to see if we need anything else before the check, and I'll be damned if Dojo doesn't make a fool out of himself again before we get the hell outta here.
"Sweetheart, do you mind checking in my eye? Something is definitely wrong with it?"
She hesitates for a brief second, then moves closer to him.
"I don't see anything. Does it itch?" She asks, Dojo rubbing them both dramatically.
"Oh, damn. I was sure something was wrong with them. I can't seem to take them off of you."
She pushes his shoulder playfully as Cuddy lets out a deep laugh, "Wow, Dojo. Real smooth."
We put the leftover wings in a to-go box, and I pull my wallet out, waiting on the check.
"So, have you and Hanna worked out anything with Ellie?" Cuddy asks, dipping a wad of fries into a mound of ketchup.
"Not yet. Everything was so up in the air with this TDY we decided to wait until I get back. This job doesn't really make it easy to adhere to a parenting plan."
