2012-07-26 Only Losers Use The Door

Back in Sam's room, Sam opens the closet and reaches up to rummage around on the top shelf, coming up with a bottle of bourbon. "I won't make you city boys drink any white lightning," he teases. "That wouldn't be hospitable of me." He scoops a trio of shot glasses from the mismatched stash on the bookcase and plunks them down on the desk to fill them. "Too bad we oughta be careful about how we get, what with all the alien kidnappings. When I say things like that, I wonder why I missed this place and why I ever left all at once."

"What's...White Lightning?" Warren asks as he moves to turn the desk chair around so that he can better sit. "But I have no problem with bourbon. None at all. Is that the good stuff from Kentucky?" He may have teased Sam about his roots before, but he does appreciate a good Kentucky bourbon.

"Hey, I can handle it," Bobby replies, stretching again. He finds a place to sit down and smile. "Bring on the bourbon," the icy mutant laughs. "Unless you're hiding chocolate bars, I think we're safe from alien kidnappings."

"White lightning is what they call moonshine in some parts. It's a specialty up in Cumberland County." Sam gestures for them to sit--there's a desk chair and a chair by the window--and plunks himself on the bed before passing the glasses around. He leaves the bottle on the desk. "Johnny Drum's a long way from White lightning. It won't do you any harm, that's certain. Makes me homesick, though."

"I dunno...is this Spiral bourbon?" Warren grins as he takes the glass. "Besides, your alien abduction sounded really amusing. I mean, odd, but...amusing." He takes a drink of the stuff before nodding his approval, "Good stuff, man. Good stuff. You two should come up to my apartment some time...I've been collecting scotch of late."

Bobby doesn't hesitate. He takes a swig of the bourbon as soon as its handed over. "Mm, good stuff," he remarks. "I can handle moonshine. Some of the guys from college made some of their own stuff and shared it at the parties," Bobby explains with a grin. "Sure, I'd be happy to stop by sometime."

"I promise it's not Spiral bourbon, though some backwoods booze will make you feel like it is." Sam reaches over and grabs a pad of paper and a pen from his bedside table. "You know, if it wasn't for the whole not being asked first and maybe getting killed thing, it was kind of like a wild Danger Room session." He settles back against the pillows and props the pad up on one thigh. "I guess I missed being in the field more than I thought."

"Why aren't you in the field then?" Warren asks as he takes another sip of the bourbon. "I've had some of that moonshine too...frat parties. I think I drank lighter fluid at one point...it was nasty." He lifts up the glass, "Not like this though. This is nice and smooth. I approve."

"Lighter fluid? Seriously, War?" Bobby just gives him a look. "Yeah, you're back now, Sam. You can be in the field with us when we go do things," he smiles. "It'd definitely make random midnight potential wild goose chases more tolerable."

"Man, I have drank stuff I could have used to run my truck. I think I was smarter before I went home." Sam drains his glass and sets it aside on the bedside table for now. His pen scratches on the page before he speaks again. "If Ma didn't actually need me after I pussied out the first time when Doug died, I'd have been back sooner. It was okay doing forestry and fire fighting work, but I had to be 'normal', not like here. It was hard. I cheated when no one could see, but still."

"I hope that it -wasn't- lighter fluid, Bobby, but it was at a Frat party. It was probably Jagermeister mixed with some cheap crap booze...it was years ago. I like to think my palate's more refined now." He finishes off his glass and gets up to go pour another. "Midnight wild goose chases? Man, I miss all the fun here." He returns to his seat and looks at Sam, "You can get away with being 'normal' most of the time though."

Bobby laughs. "I'm amazed the three of us haven't destroyed our stomaches with the stuff we drink," he says, reaching to pour himself some more alcohol. The bottle is passed to Warren once he comes over. "Being normal sucks."

"Believe me, I'm grateful that I can pass. It just sucks to sit there in the damn truck on a call and know I could be at that fire before we hit the first stop sign." Sam holds his glass out to Bobby. "Hit me again here, I could use it. If you want some midnight wild goose chases, War, you can be the goose. Any time." Sam gives Warren a grin. "I don't crash nearly as much as I used to."

"But what could you do to stop the fire even if you got there?" Warren asks before he looks to Bobby, "Being normal shouldn't be any different than being what we are. But it is. And it sucks." He gives a snort then at Sam's comment, "Good to know. I evade better as well."

Bobby pours Sam some more bourbon as well, smiling as he does it. His smile fades though. "It shouldn't be but it is. I can pass too but it still sucks. That's why I didn't stop being Iceman even after I left," he says, draining his glass and pouring another shot. "Ooh, are we gonna play catch Warren?" "I vote for a game of Catch Warren after I finish writing out this crazy adventure." Sam raises his glass to that. "We should be training in case we get to go to that Mojo place. That's my story and I'm stickin' to it. We're training."

"Now, wait a minute...I don't know that I want to be chased and either frozen or scorched." At least they've both had two drinks at this point. Warren then considers his glass, "Well, outside, I guess would be ok."

"I second that vote!" Bobby declares with a grin. "And Catch Warren is perfect training," this is Bobby-Logic. "Then we won't freeze or scorch you, War," Bobby looks to Sam to get confirmation of no-scorching. "We can do something else."

"I would never blast Warren without permission." Sam gives his best wide-eyed 'how could you suggest that, Mr. Drake' innocent face. He is -really- good at that one. "I just think that since he's an old man we owe it to him to make sure his stamina is still good."

Angel nearly spews the bourbon that he just sipped. As it is, he chokes, coughing and sputtering as he looks between the two. "I'm not that old!" he demands before quickly finishing the drink before he loses the rest. "All right. You two asked for it." Bobby flashes Sam that same innocent face.

"That's right. We have to be gentle with him," Bobby replies. He chuckles when Angel sputters, pouring him another drink. "Oh no, what're you going to do? Spank us?"

"I don't think he could take us both at once." Sam drinks everything in his glass at once, caps the pen and tosses it, the pad of paper, and the glass to the end of the bed. "He could -try- but remember, we have to be mission-ready. The Professor might be annoyed if we break Warren." Sam drops his shoes and socks to the floor before getting up to open the window. "Only losers use the door, right?"

"You'd like that far too much," Warren snarks to Bobby before he grins back at Sam, "But I can just -heal- you two if I end up hurting you. I'm beginning to like this game a bit better now." As soon as Sam opens the window, he dives out, turning about to make a face before taking off.

"Then that's what we'll do to you when we catch you," Bobby replies, laughing. He ices himself up and slaps Sam on the shoulder playfully before leaping out the window himself. Seconds later, he's ice sliding after Warren. Bourbon and mutant roughhousing, best X-men passtime ever.

Sam takes a running start and throws himself out the window, firing up before he drops and flying loops around Bobby on his way after Warren. It's -really- good to be back with the boys.