Summary: Followed shortly with the thunk of glass on table
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Ain't got no money and nobody'd be daft enough to pay me; so there!

AN: thanks to anuna81 for help and encouragement (thank you, thank you, luv!) and thanks to comancherider for the super-speedy beta!

"Five." The self-satisfied statement landed between the two men.

A grunt of annoyance was followed shortly with the thunk of heavy glass less than delicately set on the tabletop.

--
An hour later.

"Twelve," a not-quite-sober growl announced.

The responding moan was followed with the clink of a glass put down gracelessly. A submerged-sounding, drunken whining replied, "Y' know, 'f'e waw'sat leachst going t' do something, it wo' almochst make up f' getting us drunk l'k this juch trying to count how of'en he..." Arms waved without coordination and the glass hit the floor with a worrisome, bright 'cling' sound.

A snort answered the complaint, followed by another growl, "Not gonna happen."

"Cou'd make 'em," drunken optimism insisted.

A raised brow accentuated amused eyes, "'Them'? How?"

".." Then the head rose from its forearm rest with reviving interest, "El'vator!"

"El'vator?" The heavy brows furrowed in confusion.

"Err... l'k transporter," the voice sounded less drunk as thought crept in with an almost audible effort. "Harder though... Cou'd... and then... Yeah! And Z'lenka wo'd help..."

The drunkenly shinning eyes and gleeful grin were a worrisome sight. On the other hand, making his buddy quit with the sad eyes would be a relief. And this promised to be fun in any case.