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Bryan walked on a few steps before he realised I'd halted.
"What're you doing, princess?" he asked.
"Having an epiphany," I said.
"Don't break anythin' now." He started walking again. I ran to catch up.
"Bryan," I said. He flicked a look at me, but I think he was just thinking about his Bourbon. "How far away from Jack's room is yours?"
He slowed down until he finally stopped walking and turned to look at me.
"What devious things are goin' round inside your pretty head?"
"How far away?" I repeated.
"Two doors down."
"So, a room between your room and his?"
"Yep."
"Whose?"
"Winchester's." I grimaced. He snorted.
"I guess that could work," I said, but even tomyears, that didn't sound at all convincing.
Bryan crossed his arms over his chest and then flicked a glance up at the ceiling and along the walls. There were cameras here, and possibly microphones. He looked back down at me and smirked.
"What?" I snapped.
"You really think he'd let you out of his room once he got you in there?"
"I could knock him out somehow."
"Yeah, sure, princess. Got any Rohypnol handy?"
"Maybe I can sneak into the infirmary."
He shook his head. "Security's tight in there since the Chief Medical Officer betrayed us. You'd be better off tryin' to get some down at the local pub."
"I'm not sure Anderson would let me out of the building."
"Me neither. How about this?" He moved closer, pushing me up against the corridor's wall, and then placed one hand above my head, the other on my hip, effectively trapping me. "You and me act like we're more than just friends, and I invite you into my bedroom for a quickie."
"A quickie?"
He shrugged. "Well, wouldn't say my quickies are quick, if you know what I mean."
"Couldn't possibly guess."
"Could be there until mornin', Mouse."
"Perish the thought."
"Right into the wee hours of the night, at least. When the goon squad keepin' watch on our floor falls asleep from boredom and Winchester has passed out from too much whisky."
"Go on."
