Archie sits in his regular stool at the bar, nodding at the bartender. "Evening."
The bartender, a quiet sort even on the most festive occasions, only nods back. And he knows Archie's usual drink, so he's already setting a highball glass in front of Archie and pouring the scotch.
"Thanks." Archie lets it sit there in front of him. He nods at the empty seat beside him. "Another, if you would..."
To his credit, the bartender doesn't say a word, he just pours.
Archie closes his eyes, letting the cares of the day wash away. The scotch would do it, too, but it doesn't feel right to begin until his drinking buddy is here as well.
On cue, he feels a presence beside him, but he keeps his eyes closed. "Wasn't sure if you'd come."
Nothing. Of course, there wouldn't be, but Archie never knows what to expect these days in Storybrooke.
"I should have known you wouldn't miss our regular night."
To look at the two of them, they are an unlikely pair. But anyone who really knows them knows how much they have in common. They are both under Regina's thumb and both wish they weren't. They both want to follow their conscience and find themselves unable to.
Archie finally lifts his glass into the air. "To freedom. I pray, my friend, that you have found it at last."
He clinks the glass to the one on the bar beside him, in front of the empty stool, the stool where Graham should have been sitting. Then he drinks it down in one swallow.
With a parting nod to the bartender, Archie leaves enough money for both drinks and heads out into the night.
The bartender lets the glasses stand, untouched, until closing time.