[Dated 12/31 into 01/01]

[beat_death]

"Which way?" he asks, instead of giving her an actual answer. But it's the best idea she's had in ages, and that's really saying something.

It'd be a lie for him to say he's wanted this for some time now; while casually considering sex with your coworkers may as well be a national pastime, this isn't something he ever seriously considered until he was already dead. Until there wasn't really much chance of it at all.

Seems somewhat ridiculous now that he never considered someone that'd been right in front of him for years.

[Continued from here.]

Comments

[did_good]

"Alright," she says, feeling tension leave her shoulders at his words. It was just a case of making a mountain out of a molehill, and their argument over the testing hasn't affected the night so badly.

Her glass on the counter, she pulls the box from the fridge, along with the water jug. "Can you handle working the microwave?"

[beat_death]

"Think I can manage," he replies, "I think I've got a handle on how numbers work, so..."

He takes the box from her to open it, a slightly unimpressed look on his face. He's not drunk from a few glasses of champagne, and even if he was, the events of the evening would have no doubt sobered him up by now.

[did_good]

"Well, you heat the pizza, I'll get the water and meet me back in the bedroom?" Tosh offers it up hopefully, hoping that he'll stay longer, and that they can leave aside any discussions of work for at least a few hours.

[beat_death]

"Pizza in bed? Who are you and what have you done with Tosh?" Owen jokes, as he takes out a few slices, "You go ahead, I'll be back there in a second."

He wishes that he'd known they weren't really going to leave the bedroom though; he might not have put his trousers back on.