2019-06-17 - Pop-Tarts?!

Texting the group when his shift is off Easton at least lets them know that the game is on friends. Since he's walking home he gives them all a time to gather that gives him enough time to stop off for a few things, get home and shower. So when they arrive the place is spartan as always, with a few bags of groceries (mostly of the chip / munchie variety) unpacked on the kitchen counter, the TV is on as ever to a SportCenter like recap and Easton, freshly showered and dressed for a night in in a white tee-shirt and sweatpants is on the couch. He has a glass of whiskey in hand and from the look of the pill bottle on the coffee table and the suspicious empty plate next to it, he's got a little more in that glass than just whiskey. Yes, a gracious host would have waited for his guests, but well, too bad.

The door to the balcony is open despite the chilly breeze, a place for anyone looking to light up setup out there with two chairs and ash tray. The fridge is stocked with beer and there's also a wide variety of liquors though all that could be called a 'mixer' is some tonic water, also in the fridge.

As much as Bennie told Baylee that she was going to go home and change before this evening's festivities, she shows up to Easton's apartment much the same way she left the Deuce earlier in the afternoon. Wearing a short denim skirt and white tank with a blue silk robe thrown over the top, there is a curtesy knock on Easton's door before Bennie just plows on in with a bag of mini Reese's Peanut Butter cups in one hand. It gets tossed underhanded at Easton before she heads straight to the fridge to nab a beer, asking, "How ya feeling?" On her way.

There really was pizza, poptarts and advil got before Baylee went home, then some things done, until that text came in to get ready. When they head for the apartment there is only one person that drives, and it isn't Baylee. But up they go to the apartment, and unlike Bennie there isn't any courtsey knock and entrance. Instead they knock, and then wait, "This is that posh apartment building I got the tour of by the guy in a too expensive car."

"I'm still kinda surprised they let my van in," Aidan says, glancing back down the hall. He's not quite so comfortably dressed as Easton, but on the other hand, if it were a night in for him, he'd be in a trailer, not a ridiculously expensive apartment complex. So rather than sweatpants there's bright red jeans, but he does have a t-shirt (tie-dyed light red through orange to yellow and back, top to bottom, with realistic brown-black palm tree silhouettes printed on top), under a not quite sheet unbuttoned white shirt, and the biker jacket 'cause it gets cold out there at night. Proving there really were poptarts, he's got a bag containing one of the small boxes of them in one hand (and also some beer), and Baylee's in the other, so she gets to handle the knocking.

Grabbing the candy out of the air with his free-hand. Easton answers, "Great!" With a little more enthusiasm than sounds natural, but he moves past it quickly with, "God it is good to see you." He considers telling her he wasn't sure how she would react to the offer or something along those lines when the door is knocked on again. "It's open!" Is called out towards the hall, as he sets the candy down on the table in front of him.

Bennie nabs her beer and beams a smile towards the door as it's presumably opening after Easton's call. Tossing her purse down near the balcony door, she starts doing a little hopping dance to thumb off her sandals as she moves to the couch. Flopping down, her head immediately props on Easton's lap and she grins up at him. "Aww, you missed me? You're going to spoil a girl with that kind of enthusiasm. Now make with the kissing of the hellos." Eyes closed and lips pursed dramatically as she waits.

"I'm betting it's because we're guests of Easton's. I didn't even pay them off or anything." Baylee replies, waiting until they get the call to come inside, then she's pushing that door open to drag Aidan into the apartment with her, "We brought poptarts and beer. I'm still questioning the reality of poptarts." She offers to the pair, waiting until Aidan is inside to kick the door shut behind her, having changed into comfortable clothes and out of the heels she was wearing earlier. Door closed, greetings given, and anyone paying attention might notice that Baylee's focus has zero'd in on that bottle as she moves towards a seat, but she's very carefully not diving for it like a fiend.

"You saw, like, whole shelves of them!" Aidan points out, and grins brightly to the others. "Hey." He looks around as they wander in, and possibly doesn't notice the laser focus Baylee's developed as he's busy checking out the whole general surroundings. It's not focused enough to look like casing it or anything, at least. Baylee apparently has all the ability to focus right now! "This is a really nice place," he says, "Your view's kinda awesome." He does focus better, then, on Easton, as he moves to claim a seat himself. By Baylee, unsurprisingly. "So what happened to you?"

The 'hello kissing' is actually quite hard with her in his lap, but Easton's not about to say no to such a request. He says, "I missed you like crazy." He lifts his glass to Baylee and Easton at the greeting and says, "It's a party!" as they come in. "Poptarts?" The question of why the toaster pastries were brought is followed up by "What?" about them possibly not being real. He's confused, but really not that worried about it. He says, "There's more beer in the fridge, booze in the freezer and cabinets to the left, I have a joint or two rolled somewhere and.." He catches Baylee's look and can't help but smirk a little, "Help yourself to whatever."

"Oh yea.." Easton does tend to forget how nice the place itself is. He 'explains', "I'm just subletting from a friend of the family." Why he feels the need to get that out there, irks him a little. He touches a hand to his bandaged nose and still very much black eye and says "Fought a tree with my jeep and lost. And utterly failed to help find a missing little girl, except possibly in creepy ghost form."

Bennie at least lifts her head slightly for the smooch, settling back into Easton's lap with a rearrangement of her blonde hair so it fans out over his thigh. "Maybe it's an American thing?" She offers helpfully at the explanation of pop tarts. "I brought my favorite thing in the universe to eat while high." A lazy hand indicates the bag of Reese's, her own beer held idly unopened by her hip. "I think my dear Easton's done a little pregaming."

"Thanks." Baylee gives Aidan's hand a squeeze, and honestly leaves the explanation of the poptarts to him, because their mere existance is still seriously messing with her. And Easton said to help herself. She slides off her seat, down onto the floor next to the table, legs folding cris-cross applesauce, and she plucks up that bottle to start twisting it open, knocking two of them out into her hand before she sets the bottle down, one of the pills is then held out towards Aidan. "I...didn't bring anything. I never eat." She shakes her head, waiting only so long as for Aidan to take the pill before she proceeds in the long, labor intensive process of crushing her pill up. "Nothing wrong with pregaming, honestly. Could argue we did with the drinks earlier, I think Aidan might be the most sober among us."

Aidan tilts his head at the 'what', the different referents for Easton's questions apparently missed. "What, you never heard of them either? You're not even English." That's just weird, dude. Bennie gets a quick glance like, are poptarts just a poor people thing and I didn't know? He sets the bag down on the table, and the plastic slips down enough to betray that they're strawberry frosted poptarts.

He winces a little at Easton's answer, and nods, somewhat absently accepting the pill from Baylee. "Well, that sucks. Glad you're not, y'know, hurt more." Baylee's remark makes him laugh, though, and he settles back, looking at the pill. "Yeah, I'm kinda... entirely sober right now. I guess we'll see if I catch up?" He claims one of the beers, probably to help with that, and settles in. "Creepy ghost form, huh?"

"Yes, I regret to inform you all that you are woefully behind." Easton doesn't sound regretful or all that impaired to be honest, but it's fun to say. He laughs about pop tarts confusing him, "No, I know what they are, just don't think I've eaten one in.. twenty years?" He just wasn't expecting them! He stifles a laugh at Bennie and her 'favorite thing to eat while high', "You brought my dick?" Yes, he is laughing at his own joke, or rather the perfect setup for it.

He downs the rest of his drink, having kind of waited for them, kind of. He sets the empty glass down on the table and fidgets to get the bag of reese's open and unwrap one for Bennie. He holds it above her mouth as he answers Aidan, "Yea. Blacked out eyes, weird old-school night gown, like frilly 1900s thing?" He holds his free hand above his head and the fridge opens, and a beer is summoned to his hand. Yes, he's been practicing that. But this time it's because he has a Bennie in his lap, he does have his prosthetic leg on still. The cap of the beer is removed again with a mental tug.

Bennie dutifully opens her mouth for the confection to be dropped in, munching merrily, "Alas, I didn't have a coupon for your dick, so I'll just have to pay full price for it later. Oh! That reminds me, I grabbed a few banana bags from the rig, so we don't have to worry about hang overs tomorrow." Though what IV bags and Easton's junk have to do with one another is any guess as to how the Blonde's brain works. She finally twists open her own beer - the old fashioned way - and begrudgingly has to roll onto her side in order to take a drink from it.

"You should write her coupons for your dick, Easton. You're slacking." Baylee offers helpfully, shifting up onto her knees before reaching into her pocket to pull out a wallet, from which she fishes a crisp bill. The wallet goes back into the pocket as she rolls the bill up, and instead of dumping the powder from the crushed bill into a drink she just skips right to gathering it up into a pile, then a line and snorts it right off the table. She then drops back onto her rear end, scooting back until she can lean against Aidan's legs, her fingers rubbing at her nose, "So what, a ghost? Sorry...I wasn't paying attention at all."

Seriously, she was pretty focused on what she was doing.

Oh, okay, that makes more sense. Though Aidan still looks a little surprised by the twenty years thing. "I eat a lot of poptarts when I'm high," he says, shrugging, "...well, okay, when I'm stoned. But they're also just good." The beer opened, he takes a moment while Baylee's busy there to get up again, drinking from it while he heads over to explore the rest of the booze selection. Which is not a long exploration, and ends with him grabbing the whiskey bottle and a few more glasses and bringing them back with him, resettled in plenty of time for Baylee to lean back. He's even stolen Easton's plate by then.

"Are there often specials on Easton-dick? I mean, it seems kinda harsh if he's not giving you a good discount to start with, but now I'm curious." Plate on leg, pill on plate, time to get to crushin' things. Hopefully not the plate. "I have no idea what a banana bag is but I figure you know what you're doing," he notes to Bennie. "And ghosts suck. Where'd you see that one? What was it doing?" He watches the psychic-bottle-grabbing and -opening, but doesn't look entirely shocked. More 'huh' than anything else.

"If you think I didn't already make a mental note to fill her giant hobo bag with coupons for my man bits, you are sorely mistaken." Easton would be doing it right now were he not so happily pinned to the couch. Though Aidan's comment causes him to elaborate, "Oh yea, we run specials all the time. No coupon needed. It is literally /always/ ladies night in my pants." His beer arm rests on the back of the couch, and his free hand plays with Bennie's hair in his lap.

"Yea. So little girl went missing and I figured it had to be something with the spooky shit. Especially after hearing bout some people who would slip or 'get lost' as little kids growin up here." He doesn't specify who, because it seemed like a really personal story. "So a bunch of people showed up to look, including that Lyric girl from taco night?" He says this as an aside to Bennie. "And we checked out the creepy old house that was just thick with fucked-uppery." He takes a sip of beer and then confesses, "And then some ghost chick basically told us to fuck-off, the girl belonged to the house now and that doors were closing. Or are closed? Or should be closed? Something." And he wraps the story up with, "And then as I'm leaving in my jeep, I saw her. The little, or a little girl in a nightgown, and I dropped my smoke and smashed into a tree. It sucked. The end."

Bennie seems to note Aidan's reaction to Easton fetching and opening a bottle with just his mind meats as she nuzzles her head against the fingers that toy in her hair, "You should see what he can do with a button down fly. Wait, no. You know what I mean." She points a warning finger at Easton. "No demonstrations." It's far too early in the evening for demonstrations. "He's leaving out the part of the story where he gets released from the hospital, comes home and passes out on the couch, leaving the rest of us to find out this story the round about way."

For her part, the Blonde doesn't make any movement towards taking a pill and following suit with the others, but she is sort of watching the preparations with fascination. "Is there a difference between 'high' and 'stoned'? I thought they were one in the same." As if to resist the temptation for one of those painkillers, she rolls herself off the couch and goes in search of a joint. Finding one on the kitchen counter, she totes it to open door of the balcony and leans against the jamb.

"That's fucked up. But if horror movies have taught me anything, you never go into creepy houses, and you don't argue with a ghost. That's how you end up with some ghostly hand fucking up your hair during your next shower." Baylee points out, moving from where she is only so far as to get one of the glasses brought back by Aidan filled with that whiskey. For her, he's busy, and can pour his own drink when he's damn good and ready.

"I want a demonstration, though, Bennie...because that sounds like a stripper talent that the world needs exposure to." She lifts up her glass, taking a swallow from it before she gets comfortable, careful of upsetting Aidan's plate preparations. She tilts her head back, looking up at him, "You can't do that, right?"

Aidan, it probably bears mentioning, has been moving just a little carefully, despite being professedly sober. It's more the bending and reaching than the walking, though, so it may well be true. There's a small change in his expression at the mention of people slipping as little kids, but it passes, even if it is the other topic he addresses first. "Ladies' nights are one of the better reasons to be a girl. I never get the discounts, even if I'm wearing a skirt. And I'm with Baylee, definite vote for demonstrations. Sounds like a neat trick." Her question, though, has him pausing, and looking up from the pill. "...I dunno," he admits, "I never tried. Can you?"

He still kind of looks like he's contemplating attempting it when he glances to Easton again. "So there's a house out there eating kids? Or, I mean, taking them, anyway? 'cause that's, yeah, pretty thick with fucked-uppery. If she's a ghost does that mean she's already definitely dead then?" A small headshake, and he finishes the crushing, brushing the products into a glass and pouring a bit of the whiskey into it. Not a huge amount, but some. Less distressing topic: "High and stoned are kinda interchangeable a lot. But, stoned's kinda more specific, like, almost always someone's talking pot, and usually they mean less up and giggly and more couch lock and munchies. To me, anyhow."

"I almost died" Easton puts every bit of dramatic emphasis on that line with a big grin on his face, as Bennie tells the tale of him losing a day. "But yea, my phone went up in flames with the jeep and then I got distracted... and was an ass." The last part said with apologetic tone to Bennie.

"Stoned is just pot, right? High is other things? At least out East." Easton muses as he lets her up and then follows Bennie once she sees where she's headed. He doesn't grab a join or pack of smokes of his own though, apparently just planning to share. He leans against the opposite side of the door jamb. He flashes a mischievous smile at Baylee about the 'demonstration' part. "I promise to tear people's clothes off with my mind later." He head nods at Bennie and says, "Well, at least hers."

"And not all ghosts suck." He doesn't explain yet, but for some odd reason felt the need to defend ghosts? It felt important to say. That's about the level of high he's at. "And yea, I don't know if she's dead. Like.. I think there's other options? I feel like when people get lost the rules change, and all this weird shit can just happen. So maybe not?" A beat before a quieter. "I hope not."

Bennie's concentration goes to the joint for the time being, her smile turning into more of a smirk when conversation picks up regarding demonstrations and clothes being torn off. Her thumb strikes the flint wheel of the lighter, lightly touching the flame just until it catches the paper. A couple of quick puffs gets it going, and then she takes a longer draw and holds it in her lungs. "Maybe closing the door is some hint about how to give the ghost peace. So she can cross over or whatever." She says in pinched tones, trying not to exhale until she absolutely needs to and then it's with a light cough. She then inverts the joint so the burning end is put in her mouth, and she leans forward with an exhale to shotgun Easton.

"Not that I know of...but I've never tried, either." Baylee points out, taking a thoughtful sip from her drink, "Maybe? I mean, I can throw rocks and shit, so that does seem like a reasonable next step."

Which, poor Bennie, she's getting looked at like she might just try this experiment on her, since Easton does it that makes it alright, right?! But then she shakes her head, "Ghosts aren't real, right? I've never seen one, and it seems that is a really big thing to have never seen before if they are real." She's clearly a very hopeful sort.

"We should probably try," Aidan says to Baylee, with a small nod, before he downs his drink. It's followed by a slight wince while he leans to refill the glass -- a bit higher, this time -- and reclaim his partly-drunk beer. For his soon to be partly-drunk self. He does not appear to immediately be trying, or else he's not succeeding, at least.

"Maybe." He leans back carefully again, balancing the glass while he drinks the beer, in order to free a hand long enough to pet Baylee's hair a little. "I never saw one that isn't, though." A small pause, looking down at her. "Nah, they're real. And they suck. Arguing with them probably won't make 'em any more likely to try to fuck with your hair than they already were. ...but okay, I guess there's probably shitloads of them I haven't seen, and maybe they're okay."

Accepting the shotgunning of the joint, Easton considers Bennie's idea about what closing the door means. He's actually put a lot of thought into ghosts and closure and all that stuff considering he too is literally haunted. He holds in the smoke and gives Baylee a tilted head look of 'weeeeelllll...' that has to wait for his exhale.

"Is your hair haunted?" Easton winces out while exhaling wondering what is it with Aidan mentioning ghosts and his hair. "But yea, it wasn't the first ghost I've seen. I mean the girl might have been just creepy as shit, but real? I don't know. She just popped up so suddenly."

He takes the joint out from Bennie's mouth to kiss her before handing it back to her and then moving to the sofa where he lies down. He sets his beer on the coffee table and settles in to keep the conversation going ... before falling dead asleep. Like a lightweight. Chump.

Bennie smiles into the kiss from Easton, her hand cuffing the back of his neck to make it draw out a second longer before she accepts the joint and continues her lean in the doorway to the balcony, letting the fragrant smoke get pulled away by the chill of the night air. "I've never seen a ghost, per se? But I'm quickly learning all these 'coincidences' and 'phenomenon' were just my own ignorance and willpower at remaining plausible deniability. So just like aliens, I'm not saying ghosts can or can't exist. I just sure as shit don't want to meet one face to face, ya know?"

She goes to take another hit, but instead just babbles on. If you thought she talked a lot before, this is what happens when weed gets introduced into the mix. "Like, I was convinced I was just seeing people's auras, but Easton explained that's just me seeing people that are like us. So instead of being some hippy in tune with the earth, I'm like what? Supernatural? And it's like we're sitting on some super hot bed of activity. Like a Hellmouth in Buffy. You guys ever watch that show? I had such a crush on Giles." And she realizes by the time she finally stops talking long enough to take a hit, that Easton is stone cold out, and she just starts giggling about her big tough marine.

"No." Baylee shakes her head about if she ever watched Buffy. Big no from this direction. Then she stares at the pill bottle, like she might just be trying to float it over to her, which means that Bennie is at least safe from her trying to rip her clothes off with her mind. "My hair is..." She pauses, finally taking note of Easton passing out.

"He must have pregamed a whole lot." Brilliant obeservation, but it means that she feels marginally less shitty when she grabs the bottle and knocks a few more out into the palm of her hand, this time just popping them into her mouth, chewing on them before chasing them with a swallow of her whiskey. "Never seen one, pretty sure I never want to, and until I came here I never really noticed anything weird. Or maybe, never figured out what it was that I was experiencing, I guess." She shrugs, one arm curling around Aidan's leg, her hand absently rubbing against his leg, murmuring quietly to him, "We can try that when we get home."

"Giles?" Okay maybe Easton's not totally out yet.

Easton's near-sleep -- already -- gets a grin from Aidan, which turns into a brief snicker when the question comes from the apparently only nearly-out marine. "...he was kinda hot in an old-guy kinda way," Aidan says, so apparently he did watch it. This theory is rather supported by, "Spike, too. Willow... Actually, pretty much that whole cast, now I'm thinking about it..." Surely coincidental the ones with the accents got the first mentions, though.

He doesn't yet go for more of the pills, though the canister gets a glance when Baylee's got it. "My... hair isn't haunted. Exactly," he says, and seems inclined to leave that bit alone for the moment, going on to, "I kinda ran into a bunch of weird a bunch of places. But it's weirder here. So, yeah. Like a Hellmouth, maybe. That kinda makes sense." He finishes off the beer, setting the empty where he doesn't have to stretch too far to do it, and then does decide to claim the pill bottle. Despite the faint wince that reaching for it requires, he does not decide to attempt to do it with his mind, though. Maybe he just can't.

Bennie licks her fingers and pinches out the edge of the joint, tossing it back on the counter with the lighter and heads back into the living room. Half-sleeping or not, she's rearranging the Marine's legs so that they drape over her lap and she lightly massages the lower thigh of his injured one. "Oh my god, you have to binge it with me sometime, Baylee!" You know, if she had a Netflix account. Or a DVD player. Or a TV for that matter.

Leaning forward, she grabs the whiskey bottle and splashes some into the glass Easton was using, not even considering that he may have used it to mix his Oxy in. "Yes, Giles." She pats Easton's leg, "He was older, sure. But he had that to die for accent, and when he went all Grr as the Ripper? By the way, British accents automatically give you a plus two on the hotness scale, just saying." She toasts Baylee, just then finally noticing Aidan's pained expression. "And just what's wrong with you again, Mister? Hopefully no more arrows to the chest?"

"I once had someone tell me that I could tell them the worst news in the world and somehow it'd still be hot. I'm not sure how." Which is probably just because that's what she's heard her entire life, and it doesn't hit that exotic button it does for others. But despite being told this before, there is an undeniable pleased smile that is offered to Bennie, a hand lifting up so that she can blow her a kiss.

Aidan would get one too, but he didn't say she was +2 on the hotness scale so he just gets a leg hug before she gets to her feet to resume sitting next to him, instead of propped against him. "I guess we can binge this show...But I reserve the right to say it's terrible and bring it to a stop, deal?"

Aidan mms quietly at the reasoning given, and there's a small nod to Bennie's assessment of the effect of accents, too. Hard to be sure if it's that or the remark on arrows to the chest that caused the sheepish look, but it might be both. "The arrow to the head was the bad one," he only sort of protests, "and... not arrows?" His nose wrinkles, and he actually seems to be reading, or at least skimming, the label on the pill canister before he takes one the proper way. And then tries chewing the next one, which requires definitely washing his mouth out afterward. With the whiskey, 'cause that's what he's got. "...I went on a walk, and ran into some people, and... it's all kinda fucked up and gross, but long story real short, I kinda took an axe to the chest pretty bad." These things happen.

"Anyway. If you guys do, can I watch some too? It's been a while." The canister back where it belongs, he sneaks his now free arm around Baylee and pulls her in a little nearer, turning his head to kiss her temple. There's a murmur near her ear, like a confession: "The accent is pretty fucking hot." Which, given he's managed not to mention it this long, could suggest he's kind of feeling things a touch.

That blown kiss? Is dramatically caught and mimed as being put straight to her heart as Bennie pats her chest. "But what if being terrible is part of its charm?" The blonde complains as she settles back with her glass of whiskey, taking a sip that nearly gets spit out in fine mist but is choked down instead. "An axe?! Aidan, why didn't you say something? At the very least, you should be letting me dress the wound, or stitch you up or, or, or..." Do that healing hands thing, that still gives her the heebie jeebies but she'd offer. "Did you know about this?!" She asks Baylee with vague accusation.

Bennie's +2 was pleasing, but Aidan's addition to it being pretty fucking hot is probably more pleasing, which might just be because she's actually got a chance to get Aidan willingly naked.

Which, since she gets to do those kinds of things the question from Bennie causes her to shrug a bit, "I mean....Well, yes. I just thought he'd already talked to you about it." Did she, did she really?! Maybe not, but that's her story and she's sticking with it.

Well, if it wasn't that the caused the sheepish look last time, it definitely is this time; Aidan glances away, then back to Bennie, and says apologetically, "Some guy there did something to it," but presumably not THAT kind of something, if it's still an issue, "and I kinda didn't wanna freak you out..." Again. "I mean, if you wanna look at it, you can." He does not at all address whether or not he has reason to believe Baylee might be lying. "It still hurts and all but I'm pretty sure it's not infected or anything?" He hesitates, having moved on from apologetic to guilty for a moment, and offers, "I can try to find you, next time." 'cause he clearly has no illusions there isn't going to be one.

"Dude, you are seriously harshing my buzz." Bennie grins lopsidedly, propping an arm on the back of the couch and burying her fingers into her wavy hair. "With the booze and the pills, you should be feeling no pain shortly. But if it's bugging you tomorrow, I'll take a look, at least to change the bandages and see if I can't get you on some antibiotics." With one more gulp of whiskey, Bennie is nestling down further onto the couch, her free hand sneaking up the leg of Easton's sweatpants and cupping his good calve. "Baylee, you should totally record yourself reciting the phone book. Do people even use those any more besides me?" She wonders, the last of which just comes out at a low murmur.

"Record myself reciting the phone book to what end?" Baylee wonders, glancing at Aidan's chest, a hand raising up to hook her finger into the neck of his t-shirt, pulling it out so that she can peer down into his shirt. Then she shakes her head, leaving the talk of his axe wound aside for the moment. Instead she snuggles herself in against him, letting the feel of the drugs and whiskey wash over her, eyes starting to lower a bit, then she curls her arm around his neck, whispering more loudly than what she intends to, "Should I recite the phone book to you next time in bed?"

"You asked!" Aidan can't really manage indignant right now, though, so instead it just eases into a perfectly agreeable, "See, that's what I figured, though. I mean, painkillers. It's right in the name, right?" Looking down his shirt at present mainly displays gauze; he doesn't have a lot of medical knowledge, but he's decent enough at bandaging himself up. For some reason. He's still pretty careful about the curling in, but polishes off his whiskey to free that arm to wrap around Baylee as well, settling down to some proper snuggling as all that arguably somewhat excessive painkilling power flows into and through his veins. "Sexy ends," he murmurs, which is answer and agreement at the same times. "...yeah, maybe. Smith, Bob. 32 Main Street. 405-3421." He doesn't really try to do an accent aside from his own, but the words are low and while they start as almost a purr, going for what sexy he can, they get gradually more drowsy and absent as he goes on, "Smith, Jane... 423 First, mm, Avenue, 623...45...9..." And they may never know the last digit, because by the time it doesn't come, there's no one left awake not to hear it.