Jake takes it from him and there's a hint of a smile, the smallest turning of his lips, before he slips the little dog into his shirt pocket to keep it safe. "Whiskey's fine," he tells him. "'specially since you probably just stole it from the Lounge," he mutters gently, teasing, before he sets it aside.
Because where else would he get it?
"Dog's fine, too. Thank you." He's not a sentimental man, but that little bit of paper has turned him into one.
A pause.
"Ain't good at sayin' goodbye, B. But you're a good man. Been a real pleasure knowin' you. Been a bigger pleasure bein' your friend. Whatever you do, give 'em hell and don't fuckin' look back. And - you take care of your Steve at home and I'll do what I can for this one."
Well, okay, yes. It did. But he also knows it's a good whiskey, and he doesn't think Jake ever pays attention to the quality of his alcohol. So there's still thought that went into the gift.
His shoulders slump a little in relief. Another person willing to at least keep an eye on Steve, and he didn't even need to ask.
Jake is not a person for hugs, but he does hold out his hand. Handshakes are totally a cowboy thing, right? "Thank you. I won't forget you, ever. I hope you someday manage to beat my pinball score."
Handshakes are absolutely a cowboy thing and Jake takes that hand eagerly and with a laugh. "Yeah, that's the first thing I'm gonna do, B. Gotta get your score off that board."
That makes him smile a little, hearing the laugh. He shakes back carefully, but not too badly, then steps back. "Good luck with that. And I hope you get what you're looking for here. Goodbye, Jake."
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Because where else would he get it?
"Dog's fine, too. Thank you." He's not a sentimental man, but that little bit of paper has turned him into one.
A pause.
"Ain't good at sayin' goodbye, B. But you're a good man. Been a real pleasure knowin' you. Been a bigger pleasure bein' your friend. Whatever you do, give 'em hell and don't fuckin' look back. And - you take care of your Steve at home and I'll do what I can for this one."
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His shoulders slump a little in relief. Another person willing to at least keep an eye on Steve, and he didn't even need to ask.
Jake is not a person for hugs, but he does hold out his hand. Handshakes are totally a cowboy thing, right? "Thank you. I won't forget you, ever. I hope you someday manage to beat my pinball score."
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He looks up to him and turns, walking back down the hallway, whiskey bottle in hand and paper dog in his pocket.