for lloyd dated to NYE/NYD

[intrinsicworth]

Shortly after midnight, Glen exited the New Year's Eve party. He'd made his rounds most of the night, danced with a few gals who knew the old steps or those who were patient enough to be shown, and generally talked the ear off of anyone who would listen. Listeners were truly God's chosen, in Glen's opinion. Stu Redman had been one of those. A man

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[kingshit_lloyd]

It had been a fine night - God bless steamy intergalactic thieves for that (Lloyd had already forgotten the other term Vala had used for her ex-job, the fancy one that had something to do with accounting, and he didn't consider it too tragic as far as memory losses went) - and the best New Year's Eve Lloyd had celebrated in a long fucking while. He hadn't gotten quite as plastered as he had intended, but was still nicely buzzed, enough to have a big smile plastered on his face by the time Glen came near.

"Hey, Happy New Year, Glen," he said, or nearly exclaimed, considering the emphasis that he placed on every single word and the unadulterated amount of cheer that went into the declaration; even an encounter with a morosely drunk Sam Vimes had managed to knock the good mood out of him for only a brief while, and now it was back with a vengeance. "I was just comin' around to see you. You want to come in?"

[intrinsicworth]

Glen peered at Lloyd and after a moment saw the gregarious mood for what it was. It brought a smile unbidden to his face, a smile he tried unsuccessfully to address and dress down into a more even expression. But Glen had not been a light hand on spirits that night, not of any kind and so he couldn't quite manage it.

He might have been in a truly good and generous mood, or it might have been the alcohol talking a bit, but he actually nodded and said. "Why not? It is after all, a new year is it not?" He paused and then added, "On one condition. That you're sharing that," he looked pointedly at the bottle under Lloyd's arm. It wasn't 'gansett, but it would do.

[kingshit_lloyd]

"Damn straight it's a new year," Lloyd agreed zealously, clinging to the sudden belief that this small fact could very well solve all of the world's problems, just like that. Well, at least his problems, for this one night. And honestly, he was just having a hard time remembering the last time he had been drunk and in a good mood.

He tried for a deep-in-thought expression as he pretended to consider Glen's request. "Well, you drive a hard bargain, man, but I think I can meet your terms," he conceded finally, as if he hadn't been carrying the bottle with the full intent of sharing it all along. "'sides, I hear all the good stuff disappears by morning. So, you know, drink 'em while you got 'em," he grinned, raising the bottle in emphasis.

[intrinsicworth]

Glen tilted his head. "Speaking of bargains, Lloyd, how much would you wager that while the good stuff might be gone, the hangovers will still very much be present?" Glen had enough presence of mind to realize that he would more than likely sleep straight through noon unless some awful spirit woke him, like in the Dicken's novel, only without the moral teachings to go along with it. In that case, black coffee and a hearty breakfast would be at the top of his list.

[kingshit_lloyd]

"Glen my man, you can always count on the bad stuff to stick around," Lloyd said with great conviction, still sounding pretty damn cheerful about it, though maybe in a vaguely melancholic sort of way. It wasn't like the threat of a hangover had ever put him off drinking; it was almost reassuring in a way. The threat of a being nailed to a cross, though? That was a slightly different matter. "I mean, 's the way of the world, right? But why worry about that shit now?" He turned back towards the door, putting his free hand on Glen's back, not nearly sober enough to worry about whether the gesture was at all appropriate. "Come on, it ain't gonna drink itself." He paused, quietly considering for a moment. "I think."