Yeah, that kind of just meant even more of his friends were going to war.

Which, well, he heard about enough of that sort of thing back home in his world. He didn't even like it when acquaintances he hadn't spoken to in years went off to war.

He had a feeling he'd be spending a lot of time hiding at Trucker's place, this summer.

"Insert standard threats of injury if you die here," he said. "And tell Karla I said congrats."

Priestly groaned. "No fair recruiting others to help with the process of killing me with exercise."

"You've clearly never tried to keep Momoko to healthy food. It's actually harder than getting me to keep up an exercise routine."

That wasn't actually hard to do, but this topic was way better than the last one.

"If I sparred with Dean, he'd kill me. But I have walked and jogged occasionally."

"Just got in this weekend. Small group this time, by the sound of it."

"Dunno. Soon, though. They need to be reminded who wears the kilt in the family."

"And? I mean, I don't need you to tell all the steamy details but -- was it steamy? Were there details?"

"Wow is good! You think you might track him down later, when life is a little less . . . complicated?"

"Sounds good to me. Both of you get to milk your mystery for a bit longer, and all that."

"You're terrible," Priestly informed her. "But April is drunk texting me from her birthday celebration at a cowboy bar."

"I would be amenable to either," Priestly said. "She's cool, you know?"

"You're not a bro, though," Priestly pointed out. "I mean, not unless you wanna be." Far be for him to try to impose gender roles on someone. "We're just, you know, bffs."