ORP: Every Day's a Holiday

Lincoln moved down the outside steps and over to where the man was. He recognized him from the personnel file he had gotten on his new team members and Link gave him a genuine smile as he held his hand out. "That I am, Lieutenant Collier." He spoke, giving Adam's hand a firm shake. "I prefer Lincoln or Link off-duty. We're here to have a good time after all." He winked at the younger man and clapped his large hand on Collier's shoulder as a light laugh left his lips.

"Nice ride you've got here." Lincoln walked around the car and examined it - it was a nice car and it seemed to suit the younger man. He looked it over and nodded in approval. After a few brief moments of looking the car over, Lincoln then looked back to the man and motioned to his house with one hand. "I've got some meat ready to throw on the grill and sides - macaroni salad, potato salad, mashed potatoes, and the like. Best part of all - lots of alcohol to go around."

Lincoln led Adam up the stairs toward his house and he ran a hand over the top of his head. Inside his home he had a large entertainment system, a pool table, and a few other things to keep his guests company. There was even fishing available off the dock that sat on the lake behind his home. Instead of showing Adam those though he moved to grab a beer from the fridge and offered one to the younger man. "Make yourself at home." 

After Lincoln made sure that Adam was comfortable, had a drink in his hand and knew where he was allowed to go - which let's face it, was anywhere, Lincoln had nothing to hide and had left all the doors to his home open - the older gentleman moved towards the front of the house upon hearing someone call out. He hadn't heard anyone pull up so either they walked there, they were a ninja, or his 'old age' was starting to catch up with him and his hearing was going.

That was just what he needed.

The man shook the thoughts away as he stepped back outside and that's when he spotted her. She definitely wasn't a member of the military so that ruled out her being the Major that was on Dulles. Farrah - that was more than likely her, or a random passerby that decided to rob him blind. That could definitely be another plausible option.

Or not.

A smile graced Lincoln's lips as he caught up with the young woman and he extended his hand to her. "You must be the good doctor," He greeted. It took all of his willpower to not check the younger woman out but he was able to resist. He always did have a weakness for the smaller women and she was at least a foot smaller than he was and as pretty as they came. Lincoln was a tank, or beast even - which was part of the reason he had the nickname he did.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Doctor Byrne," he figured it'd be best to address her properly first - then she could correct him if she so wished. "I hope you were able to find the place alright and didn't run into too much traffic." He hated traffic - it was the absolute worst in his mind. "Why don't you come inside for a drink?"

The doctor was a lot smaller than Lincoln had expected, but then again he was used to being surrounded by taller people - most in his family were well over the 'normal' height. His mother was just shy of six foot tall herself, so seeing people smaller always put him in for a shock but it wore off in the matter of a few moments. Lincoln laughed at Farrah's observation and he looked down at himself , his eyes widening. "Bloody hell! I swear I wasn't this tall when I woke up this morning!" He exclaimed, playfully mimicking her accent with scary precision. Accents were something that he was a whiz in - he only hoped she wouldn't take offense.

Lincoln looked over Farrah - which was easy enough - to get a peek at her scooter and he grinned a little. "It suits you, duckie." He responded. If he could pick a perfect vehicle for the woman it would definitely be that. "I'm glad. The traffic in D.C. is something I will never get used to."

As he led Farrah inside Lincoln pointed out where the bathroom and kitchen were if she'd need either and moved over to the neat bar that he had. "What's your poison?" He injured, moving behind it to grab a glass. "Rambo's already here - I left him with all the food so here's hoping it's still there by the time we make it in there, eh?" Link grabbed the drink that Farrah requested he unscrewed the cap of it before pouring it into the glass, he then placed a small napkin on the table and the glass on top of it, then slid it to the end for her. "Make yourself at home, love."

Farrah rose a brow, as her new boss mimicked her accent. Since it wasn't terrible, perhaps it wasn't mocking. Or maybe he just secretly hated Brits. Americans were odd like that. She would have copied his accent back at him, but she was terrible with accents. While intoxicated, she could copy a Scottish or Irish accent pretty spot on. Anything else was near impossible for her, however. She honestly didn't understand how Americans talked like that.

Choosing to remain silent after his fake accent, she simply nodded, rolling her lips in a bit as she did. Parrish then glanced over at her scooter - giving her a nickname in the process. Duckie? She glanced down at herself briefly, curious if she was somehow resembling a duck. None of her clothes were yellow nor white on this day. She was wearing a dark brown jacket with a dark blue ribbed tank underneath. Blue jeans and her favorite pair of dark grey boots. No ducks.

"Wait - why am I a duck?" she asked, feeling as though she just didn't understand the man before her. He was clearly trying to break through any awkward barriers quickly - wanting to get down to being friends with his new team. She understood that, but a little bit of a wall wasn't a bad thing. Farrah had remained a bit distant from the team when she first met them. After the very first mission, however, they were a rather comfortable bunch. Some things had to come with time. Being this friendly with Farrah was one of them.

Nodding about the traffic, she half-shrugged, "I'm slowly getting used to it. Just assume everyone wants to kill you, and you're fine," she admitted, never once having the proper right-away while scooting along.

Following the man into his house, her eyes scanned the area - noting how things were put in very specific places with care. A neat man with style. Interesting.

"Beer?" she requested - the simple but rather delicious drink sounding rather lovely at that exact moment, as Parrish informed her of 'Rambo'. Apparently Adam was already here. Smiling to herself at being able to guess his car, she accepted her drink as she heard steps beside her. Shaking her head at Adam's announcement, she took a sip of her drink.
"Well it appears I already invaded and I'm stealing your alcohol," she motioned with her bottle in a 'cheers' type fashion.