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"Owen. Owen. Owen. I have," Xanatos cleared his throat, "a very important question."
Owen inhaled and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose under his glasses. "What's that, Mr. Xanatos?"
Xanatos leaned forward on the table, frowning very deeply, as though he was trying to appear serious. "Can you remember the tallest man you've ever seen?"
Owen sighed exasperatedly. "I do not." He reached for the bottle of scotch. "And I believe you've had quite enough of this."
Xanatos pulled it out of Owen's grasp. "No! No. We're still celebrating. I'm fine. I'm very fine." He poured himself another glass and swallowed the whole thing, as if to demonstrate how very fine he was.
Owen rubbed his temple. Yes, the contract they'd won was massive and he certainly didn't begrudge Xanatos his celebratory drinks, but over the past hour the drinks had gone past celebratory and into ridiculous. "Mr. Xanatos, my understanding is that you should probably start drinking water at some point very soon."
Xanatos drew back and wrinkled his nose, as though Owen had suggested he suck on a lemon. "Owen, I'm a grown man. I c'n handle my scotch." His face cleared a little, and he blinked drowsily, as though something had just occurred to him. "Does your computer ever seem to have a mind of its own?"
"On a daily basis," Owen said dryly.
He made another grab for the bottle, but Xanatos again yanked it away from him with a speed that really shouldn't have been possible for a man who had consumed so much of said bottle. "I said I'm fine, Owen."
Owen clenched his jaw to keep from swearing in Xanatos's—his employer's—face. "You are very clearly not fine, sir. You are drunk."
"Yes. And I want to be." That time, Xanatos took a drink straight from the bottle, not even bothering with a glass, which demonstrated even more than the slurred speech just how completely shitfaced he was. "Have you ever noticed what big stars real estate agents have become?"
Owen groaned. "For pity's sake."
"'m serious!"
"They are no more or less a star than any other businessperson in this city," Owen said. "Where are you coming up with this, anyway?"
Xanatos either didn't hear his question or was ignoring him. "How much money would it take to make you spend a night in the cemetery?"
"Far more than you could pay me," Owen snapped back. His patience was running very thin. "Give me the bottle."
"No," Xanatos enunciated very slowly. "Wait. I have another question."
"Is it another one of the inanities you've been spouting for the past half hour?"
"No! No. Very important, this one. I promise."
Owen narrowed his eyes. "You'll forgive me if I'm skeptical."
Xanatos propped his chin on his hand and looked right at Owen, his normally piercing eyes glazed a little from the drink. Even like this, he was still...arresting. It was very difficult to look away.
"Owen," he said seriously.
"Yes, Mr. Xanatos?"
"Do you love to go wanderin' beneath the clear blue sky?"
Owen cursed, and Xanatos broke into hysterical laughter.
Well, that was quite enough of this ridiculousness for one evening. Owen set his hands on the table and stood. "Remind me, sir, never to drink with you again."
"Aw, c'mon, Owen." Xanatos grinned up at him. "You know you love it."
Owen turned on his heel and walked away precisely so Xanatos couldn't see the answering smile he was fighting.
Because God help him, he sort of did.