****

It was the third night when Specs arrived before Dutchy.  He took his regular seat, got his regular drink, and assumed his usual scowl.  The bell rang, announcing Dutchy's arrival.  He walked over to the bar and took "his" seat.  They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"Do you sit in the same place and get the same thing every day?" Dutchy asked, breaking the silence as usual.  Specs glanced at him.

"Yeah."

"A straight answer.  You must be in a good mood."

"I have a few things on the brain."

"So everything's normal in your bar fly life?  You never get a different drink?  You never sit anywhere else?"

"Nope."

"You do nothing different.  Everything's the same."

"That's right."

"Nothing out of the ordinary? Not once?"

"Never."

"Why not?"

"No reason."

"So you're waiting for life to come for you?  'Life is either a daring adventure or nothing'!"

"So who said that?"

"Helen Keller." Dutchy snapped.  "She was blind and deaf but she still loved life.  Appreciating what she didn't have."

"That's fabulous."

Dutchy buried his fingers in his hair and rested his elbows on the bar, thinking of the irony of himself giving out quotes about life.

"The point is, go out there and do something with your life instead of wasting away in this bar.  Do something…worthwhile.  Don't just die." He murmured.  Dutchy felt Specs' curious eyes on him.  "Don't…don't end up like me.  God forbid you end up like me."

"Why's that?" Specs inquired, his voice losing some of its austerity.

"I've hit rock bottom." Dutchy replied.  "I've got nowhere to turn if I need help.  I've got nowhere to go…I don't even have a decent job."

Specs turned back around and sat in silence for a long time.  Dutchy didn't change position and continued to stare down at the semi-reflective surface of the bar top.  Absently, he noticed a few stains and wondered briefly where they had come from.

"What do you expect me to do?" Specs asked eventually.

"Get out of this town.  It'll eat you alive."

"Morbid, aren't we?"

"You'd be too."

"I'm just dull, right?"

"Right."

"You're saying that I should be spontaneous?" Specs quirked an eyebrow.  Dutchy sat back with a sigh and looked over at him.  "Happy go lucky, a go-getter, and seize the day?"

"Carpe diem."

"What?"

"It's Latin.  'Seize the day'."

"Carpe Noctrum."

Dutchy's eyebrows flew up his forehead.  "I guess it is pretty much nighttime."

"You 'guess'?"

"Follow your phrase.  Start seizin'."

Specs regarded Dutchy for a moment.  He turned his gaze elsewhere, not wanting to egg him on any further.  Taking a sip of his drink, Dutchy almost choked when he was grabbed by the front of his overcoat and pushed back into the bar top.  He choked it down and his fingers curled around the hilt of the dagger clipped on the waistband of his pants.  Dutchy's move was anticipated as Specs grabbed his wrist firmly and held it down.  He expected everything except what happened next.  Dutchy went from defensive to shock as his mouth was crushed underneath Specs'.

Continue to part 4...