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Despite her loud and aggravated protests to Dinah and Zinda about 'wasting her time', with the exception of the first ten minutes in the club to get oriented, Babs has spent the entire time out on the dance floor. She's currently working on her fourth dance partner, the previous three all having ~~been wimps~~ taken a breather.

There are few things Barbara Gordon likes more than dancing, and even fewer things that she can still do in the chair. And her enjoyment is evident in the absurdly large grin on her face.

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"Yep," Goldy affirms.

"Add in the fact that we had to live in fucking secret because of our special talents and longevity, and because the animal Fables can talk, of course. Then you're somewhere close to the full crappiness of the situation."

Grace wonders if proper hair maintenance can be considered a special talent. Raising her eyebrows, she taps her beer against Goldy's.

"And I thought having a brother who's a priest was bad."

Goldy makes a face.

"Ugh. That does bite."

"Let me guess, he's drove you to atheism before you got out of your teens."

Mouth tightening, Grace looks down.

"No. But he's determined to drag me out of it."

"Resist," Goldy advises her, very sagely. "Sinning is so much more fun."

She gives Grace a wink, then gooses some random guy's ass as he wanders past. He turns around sharply, bewildered and hopeful all at the same time, only for the Fable to laugh, shake her head and make a shooing gesture.

"Hah! No. Never in a hundred years. Sorry, chum."

His shoulders slump and he trudges off dejectedly.

"Don't worry," Grace says wryly, watching the show, "even an angel would call me sharp edged and mule stubborn on the subject. It's bullshit.

"Hey, man. Hang in there. You might have a chance in a thousand," she calls after the guy.

Finishing off her latest beer, Grace gives Goldy a significant look and sashays over to another bartender. She's small, but there's a lot of power packed into her petite frame, along with a lot of anger and force of will, so she has no trouble jumping up on the bar. Her ass hits with a loud smack, and both legs swing out and over nearby glasses and beer bottles until she's facing the bar back. She hooks a leg around the 'tender's waist, right up to her thigh. Pulling him forward, she plants a kiss on him that he's not likely to forget anytime soon, and smiles against his lips.

"My friend and I are gonna switch to Jack. Bring some over, would ya? Thanks."

Grace lets him go and hops down, tipping an imaginary hat and grinning at the whoops and applause a few people hanging near the bar send her way.

"Getting bartenders' attention is such a bitch."

Delighted, Goldy joins in the clapping, loving the blatancy of the move.

"Very nicely done!" she laughs.

Once Grace is re-situated, the Fable slings a companionable arm round her shoulders.

"You're something else, girl. And the best thing is: you know it. That makes you pretty fucking cool in my book." She gives the other blonde a dangerous smirk. "This place isn't going to know what hit it when we're through."

Grace returns the smirk, eyes both amused and appraising, and kicks a boot against Goldy's shoe. The bartender is close behind, and Grace grabs the bottle of Jack Daniels from his unresisting hands.

"I'll drink to that."

Take that, Earl.

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