maskormenacelogs

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WHO: (Captain) Rex and YOU
WHERE: Throughout Maurtia Falls (can be flexible!)
WHEN: All month!
WHAT: Rex gets caught in a car crash for heroic or villainous types to intervene in courtesy of the on-going hero vs villain plot, visits his old job at the planetarium, and gets the wrong order at a local restaurant and almost dies of spice. Or wildcard, prompts within!
WARNINGS: None anticipated! If you'd like a prompt for you special, feel free to PM me or contact me on plurk @ wisdombitch!

o1. car crash.

[ Thanks to America's ~~Next~~ Top ImPort, there's plenty of crime abounds. Unfortunately, Rex isn't a superhero -- he's a police officer, which means he's got to deal with this too. The dastardly Botswarm has decided to cause a little mischief in the middle of Rex speeding off to a distress call, sirens wailing, and dozens of tiny robots suddenly swarm his wheels, yanking him out of control and sending his car wildly spiraling across the street, black skidmarks colouring the street in his wake.

He shouts and curses, wrenching the wheel in the other direction and desperately trying to regain control of his vehicle, but the car's no match for the villain's tech, and he's left without recourse. Are you another villain, hoping to team up with her? Or perhaps you've got enough superstrength to stop the car in its tracks!

And worst case scenario, Rex could probably use someone who knows first-aid if he does indeed crash. ]

o2. planetarium.

[ Today there's a deal at the Planetarium (imPorts get in for free!) in order to celebrate some lunar holiday or another. There's plenty of reasons to go: it's air conditioned, it's free, it has an incredible telescope for stargazing, it's free, it's got a good food court, it's free...

That's not why Rex is here though. He'd received a call the night beforehand, begging him to show up as someone who had once worked there; their last presenter had canceled on them, and they didn't want nobody to show up for the kids. That's how Rex wound up there, looking a little awkward perched on the chair in front of the audience of kids (and some curious adults), hands clasped in front of him. ]

All right. I heard you lot had questions about what it's like to be on a spaceship.

[ You can catch him during his Q&A with a question of your own -- or you can catch him afterwards, unable to keep the corners of his mouth from twitching up in a smile. It turns out that answering kids' questions about space and aliens is a lot more fun than the grunt work they'd had him doing the first time round. ]

o3. russian roulette spice death

[ Are you in a coffee shop? A small bistro, perhaps? A local restaurant just after the mid-lunch rush? Either way, Rex is there sitting down with something to eat, as cheerful as he ever gets with a plate of food in front of him.

Unfortunately, what he doesn't know is that this is an establishment with a befuddled waiter and a Russian Roulette option, meant for a small group of people to each eat a piece and for only one of them to be hit with the nuclear-level heat meant to go viral. Rex right here is going to go viral for an entirely different reason. He shakes out the paper in front of him, reading the front page as he eats one. He eats two. It's the third one that screws him. His brow furrows as red slowly begins to rise from the bottom of his neck all the way up to the top of his substantial forehead. He manages to spit it out into a napkin before he's doubled over, coughing and sputtering.

A little help, anyone? Maybe a glass of water? ]

Why, [ he manages to say between gasps, ] does this place like spice so karking much?

o4. wildcard.

[ Choose whatever you like! You can find Rex: on patrol as a police officer, doing errands (groceries, etc.), at the gym, going for a run, at the shooting range, at home in Maurtia Falls' residential neighbourhood, etc.! ]

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[Brandon usually grabs lunch late - avoiding crowds becomes a particular concern when you're an imPort.

It's a pleasant surprise to see Rex. Or rather, it was until the man started apparently choking. Brandon rushes over, ready to give Rex a thump on the back, when it becomes clear that it was just the taste that did this. Really? How bad could the spice be?

Regardless, Brandon grabs a water glass from the woman gawking at a neighboring table and crouches down to offer it to Rex.]

[ Rex looks at Brandon, newly mortified now that someone he knows is seeing him blink back tears because he ate a spicy dumpling, but that doesn't stop him from accepting the glass of water, downing it, and letting out a rather feeble cough. Lucky for him, he's always been able to conceal embarrassment with the sheer force of his own indignation. ]

Some Earth food ought to be illegal.

[ It's an appealing idea. Where can he go to put that forth? ]

[Now that Rex doesn't seem to be in any danger of choking, a smile is beginning to tug at the corners of Brandon's mouth.]

Poison is.

[ Rex glares accusingly at Brandon, who has the absolute and utter gall of making fun of him during his time of need. ]

That's not food, that's weaponry. [ He coughs again. It's like it's stuck in his chest. ] If you find it so funny, how about you try it?

[Far be it from Brandon to turn down a challenge.

He stands up and waves a waiter over.] Milk. [That's for Rex, given how the heat is clearly continuing to bother him.] And another of what he had.

He just wants the spicy ones, [ Rex comments to the waiter, who is maintaining a poker face that impresses even the likes of Rex. He just raises an eyebrow speculatively, then returns to the kitchen, though Rex isn't sure whether or not he's actually going to take the advice.

He returns with milk in a dark, thick plastic cup, then sets a plate of dumplings down in front of Brandon. Rex drinks some gratefully, then gestures at the plate. ]

By all means. Show off your strong constitution.

[Brandon raises one of his own eyebrows at Rex's clarification, but says nothing. He can take some raising of the stakes.

He's aware that at this point two other patrons have taken out their phones to film what's going on, with only one of them bothering to try to be surreptitious. Well, at least they didn't catch Rex choking.

Brandon picks up the first dumpling. Either the heeded Rex's instructions, or it's simply his luck to hit the spicy dumpling on the first try. His eyes widen slightly. It is pointlessly hot.

He chews. He swallows. He picks up the second.

The waiter did, indeed, heed Rex's instructions. Brandon chews a bit more quickly this time, before calmly reaching for a sip of water.]

Mm.

[ This isn't the reaction Rex had been hoping for... but those dumplings were really karking spicy. Even for someone who fancies himself a spice aficionado, Rex figures, though he has absolutely no grounds on which to figure this considering his own spice tolerance. He props his elbows on the table, fingers laced together, resting his chin lightly on them. ]

Good flavour, eh?

[No. The heat is really the only flavor. But Brandon grew up learning how to eat anything that could be scrounged up, and some silly challenge dumplings aren't going to stand up to that.

He shrugs.] It's fine.

[But he chews the third one more quickly again.]

[you know, archie probably COULD stop that car with his protect power, but that would involve several things that would be too risky to try. firstly, he'd have to make sure he got it right before running out into traffic. already two bad things! it would also mean that the car (seeing as he has no idea the insides are rex-flavoured) would come to a sudden, jarring stop. you know what? he failed science class but he knows enough about physics to know that would probably turn whoever is inside into soup.

all that besides... he doesn't actually get there until after it's done crashing. muk and crobat are released to deal with the stupid little robots an archie himself jogs over to the car. he expects to see just a random officer but instead--] Shit, Rex?!

[there he is, peeking in through the window.]

Fuck. Come on. Door's not broken-- get out and I'll heal ya.

[ As soon as the car crashes, Rex is really wishing that it was normal for him to simply wear his armour around everywhere. The impact rattles him and the world goes white for a moment, only the warm blood dripping down his brow shaking him back to awareness where the front of his vehicle has been thoroughly smashed and he's wedged underneath the airbag. ]

Fuck, [ he spits out, and then literally spits as well, grimacing when his saliva comes out bloody. Must have smashed his lip up. Forehead too. The whole sinus area is unfortunate, he reflects, when Archie suddenly pops in the window. He blinks at him. ]

Archie? [ He opens the door. He doesn't groan, but he probably would if he were alone. ] Did you see what happened? One second I was in pursuit, and the next...

[ Did someone hack his car? Can people do that? ]

[that's archie, just somehow magically appears in the most convenient of circumstances! he learned how to despawn when he walked offscreen back home, but he's not fully aware of it.

archie pushes on the airbag to make it deflate faster, holding a hand out for rex.]

Robots, or some shit. I don't know. Muk and Crobat are dealin' with 'em. Is anything broken?

Probably my nose, [ Rex says, prodding at it. It's ringing in pain, and he can feel it radiate through his entire skull. He never liked breaking his nose, but it's what he's broken most frequently. Usually during roughhousing, but he'll never tell. ] Couple of fractures at worst. Ankle, rib. What you'd expect in a crash like that.

[ He rattles it off like he's giving a mission report, experimentally putting his weight on one of his ankles. All it would take back home is a little dip in a bacta tank. Here... they're not horrible wounds, but it'll take a little longer. ]

Can those two take care of it on their own?

Robots are small time for them, [he says with a shrug, holding an arm out for support.] Come on, I'll do the healin' then we can go fuck 'em up ourselves.

Thanks.

[ Rex takes Archie's arm, leaning on him as he hobbles over to the curb, wincing. He's had worse. Much worse. It still hurts like hell, and he'll admit that he's mildly addled from the sudden crash and ensuing bonk to the head. Kriff, his head hurts. This is why he wears a helmet. He eyes Archie. ]

Yours isn't the sort of healing power that just hurts you, is it? It's not worth all that.

[he helps rex over with the small amount of medical knowledge he has, trying not to push him further than he can handle. archie figures rex would let him know if he did something wrong, but it's something he tries not to get complacent about regardless.]

Nah, just makes me a little tired. Hand?

[Free admission to a planetarium in the middle of July? Heck flipping yes, sign Fuu up for that. She'll enjoy the show immensely; there's so much more known--or understood--now than there was in 1993, and spending the afternoon peacefully watching planets, nebulae, and galaxies swoop through on the ceiling is a good break from things.

But the real twist at the end isn't the lady astrophysicist's somewhat-too-enthusiastic narration over the collision of the hypothetical Theia with a young Earth. It's the host of the Q & A afterwards, looking... more at home than Fuu would have expected surrounded by a gaggle of kids.]

Mr. Rex, what is it like to see the dark side of a moon?

[ Rex blinks at Fuu for a moment, clearly surprised to see her there, though he settles in soon enough. Every time he sees Fuu, she's doing something that's a little above her paygrade; helping out in the apocalypse, assisting in arrests, politely attending dinner parties. To see her here, where kids are actually supposed to be, is a stark reminder of how young she is.

And asking a question, presumably for no other reason than inquiry's sake. Mr. Rex indeed.]

Can't say I've got an exciting answer for you. It's dark. Everything in space is, unless it happens to be near something giving off light -- a star, a sun. The rest is just an oil spill.

[ That's how Rex always thought of it. Never-ending inky blackness, the sort that could suck you up if you weren't careful. Many brave men and women weren't. Many more were and got lost in it anyway. ]

It takes great skill to navigate it. Navigation droids are needed, of course, but they can't do all the work alone.

[The stark and yet colorful way Rex describes space makes Fuu giggle. She didn't have any particular expectations for what his answer would be, but this doesn't surprise her. She asked just as much to hear his answer in particular as for factual information--knowing that he's spent all his life in a place where interstellar travel is just as common as intercontinental travel is here.

Of course, hearing it described as an oil spill makes some of the younger children go ew! with disgust or amusement, and one or two hands shoot up to Inform him about all the things that make space full despite being invisible--though perhaps fortunately, other voices are quicker to ask about the navigation droids.]

The navigation droids must be very intelligent for them to be able to chart such vast distances.

Decades of research and technical development went into creating them, [ Rex says, though it's hard to tell if he's matter-of-fact or earnest. ] It took hundreds of people to map out the stars for the sole purpose of ensuring the safety of everyone who came after them.

[ A noble duty... and one Rex frankly hadn't learned much about, but he's relied on navigation droids enough times to have what he considers to be a sufficient amount of affection for them. ]

That's what's needed here if anyone is to be expected to tackle space travel. Anything else is just too dangerous. No point in taking those sorts of risks in the spirit of discovery.

[Fuu nods... she isn't an expert on the space programs of her Earth, but she is aware that it was an absolutely monumental effort that the United States and Russia went to in order to put humans in space, and that the first ones who went were men whose job it was to fly dangerous untested aircraft in the atmosphere already.]

...How long have people been traveling the stars in your Galaxy? If you've managed to make it a galactic civilization, it must have been a very long time.

[ Rex blinks at Fuu, evidently lost for words for the moment. In truth, his history lessons are flawed and, he sees now, engineered to tell them only enough to be able to function adequately in their ranks and to secure their loyalty. But he'd read further once he had access to any holos he would like - Skywalker and Kenobi were blessedly lenient on that sort of thing - and had never found answers. ]

I don't know, [ he says truthfully. ] We don't have records going back that far. Thousands and thousands of years, certainly. We don't know a life without it.

[well, it was Rex's gig, not Martin's, so even though he was invited to join, he was keen on keeping out of the way and not messing it up for him. besides, he's always been the sort to observe from a safer distance than get himself actively engaged in something -- especially something so out of his wheelhouse as this.

boy, was it ever... honestly, the fact that they were supposedly all standing on a giant ball made of dirt and other stuff was hard enough to visualize even with the visual aids, never mind all these questions of comets and black holes and exploding suns...

it's too much. how any one mind can keep all that figured out alongside everything else a body needs to do to function is beyond him. Rex makes it look so easy, and it must be, right? he'd been out there, living with that kind of stuff all the time. he was more or less made to be able to know, wasn't he?

there were other fascinating things besides the whole space-part to observe, too: Martin hadn't gone back onto a soccer field this summer, his new job taking precedence over spending hours baking in the daytime, so he hadn't seen Rex interacting with other youths as much. this is a different setting than that of a rowdy playing field, and with the topics far more within his expertise, he seemed quite suited to managing some of the barely-bridled energy some of the littler ones brought with them.

Rex smiles more often, Martin notices. not really with his mouth or teeth, but with the way his eyes crinkle.

as the latest batch of visitors were ferried off to go see more of the interactive exhibits, Martin waited a moment more for them to clear before getting up off his seat along the wall and walks over, giving a fleeting glance to the mural of heavenly bodies along his way.]

You said...this was your old job. Right? Was it always the same questions?

[ Rex had fun.

He wasn't expecting to. He didn't even want to do this; only a sense of duty, responsibility and a little fine-tuned guilting on behalf of the director had brought him here, but he'd quickly found that he had enjoyed it. Mentorship roles had always suited him, and he found that this was more like lecturing a bunch of eager cadets than he had been when he'd been forced to simply teach what he himself had to quickly learn, only this time, he didn't have to ask questions about what was to be their eventual demise. They were generally well-mannered and more excited to learn than anything else. When the Director approached him afterwards, asking if he was at all inclined to make a repeat performance one of these days, it was with little reluctance that he told her that he would be able to do it every so often, schedule permitting.

That's one of the joys of this place. Every now and then, you discover something new. He looks at Martin warmly as he approaches. He's not sure how much the kid understood - it's heady stuff, space, and headier still when you're from a world without any technology whatsoever - but at least it's dark and cool in here and he can look at the exhibits. ]

Not at all. When I first got here, they only wanted me to speak on this galaxy, not the one I was from. [ Wryly, ] They were a lot less attentive that way too. What did you think?

[what does he think? Martin's mouth twitches and he shakes his head as he shrugs.]

I, I don't know. I mean...a lot of it is hard to understand. Or think on at all. [he's certain he's not smart enough for concepts like space and the way light travels and the relativity of time...he can barely tell time!]

It sounds kind of...scary, I guess. If that makes sense. Since everything is big and stuff. I don't know.

[he looks over his shoulder, the wall in view painted to show the scale of the various planets in the solar system, an arrow and "YOU ARE HERE" on one of the tiniest specks of all.]

I don't know what...anyone would do about knowing all these kinds of things. If they didn't have to fly around there, I guess. Like you did.

It is scary, [ Rex says with a chuckle. ] Even where I'm from, where we travel through space every day, we would be foolish not to know how dangerous it can be. Quite like going on a ship and sailing in the middle of the ocean.

[ Rex has a healthy respect for space. It's a beautiful thing when you look at it in the right light, when you feel safe enough to simply admire it - and Rex has been in space so often that he frequently does - but the sheer expanse of it never escapes him, nor the fact that if anything goes wrong in space, they're well and truly alone. Too many of his brothers choked to death out there for him to feel any other way.

He still misses it, in a way. Not often. He was never a great lover of flying. But once in a while, he will remember what it's like to look upon the stars from up close and wish to see it again. ]

Is there nothing you've liked learning about without having to do anything about it?

Um...

[well, let's think. never mind simply what's been learned -- that's quite a lot -- he has to consider the things he's liked...and have nothing to do with. so that rules out the obvious picks of knitting, the paper-folding, feeding the fish formerly known as Rex...

Martin takes his time, scratching at the bridge of his nose and shifting in place. then, he blinks, realizing at least one thing.]

The machines. [he looks back at Rex.] In the factories -- the ones the man on the TV show shows? There's nothing like that in Olvoski.

I like them.

[without physically being there to be intimidated by their scale or noise, the rhythmic movements and repetitious nature of factory equipment is hypnotic and fascinating and probably why he'll never affix himself to a proper diurnal sleep schedule...unless they move that show to a different time slot.]

There, [ Rex says, pleased. ] It's the same. You'll likely never have anything to do with them, save for going for a factory visit one of these days.

[ Or, at least, Rex hopes not. Factory work is hard. Martin would be good at it - it takes precision, discipline, and the willingness to do the exact same motion every day for hours on end - but he wants a better life for him. Plus, working on it would rather take the joy out of it. Much like working in space has taken joy out of space for Rex, but he'd never been all that fond of it in the first place. He likes having his boots firmly on the ground, thank you very much. Unlike Poe, he'd be happy if he never had to use space travel again; if he could have simply teleported from planet to planet, he would have done so gladly. ]

There's more like that out there, you know. The sorts of things you might like learning about without it meaning anything. It's good for the mind. [ He pauses, then says, wryly, ] It doesn't seem to me that space is one of those things.

I mean-- [Martin's expression scrunches for a second, eyes flickering up to some of the models and display above them.] I don't know if I could keep track of a lot all at once. I'd maybe forget other things I'm supposed to remember, I think...

[he's fairly sure there's not enough space in his own head for much, and it's somehow managed to smash tons of lessons in this world. bit by bit, they take precedence over things he grew up with -- faces he sees here every day more prominent than the faces of those around him all his life, lessons learned being buried under all the new ones here.

he'd never had the problem of having a room or closet too full of things, but that's the closest he'd consider his mind if he were to sit and really try to conceptualize it.]

[ Andy had lingered outside for a cigarette. A shame, really, because if she had been inclined to join Rex more promptly for lunch, she might have been privy to the exact moment he realized his grave mistake. As it stands, she's a good five minutes late to the scene, entering the restaurant to the sight of her husband doubled over, hacking up a lung and red in the face. It's not entirely impossible that he's about to enter death throes. A non-zero chance that she's witnessing an assassination attempt. He's trying to say something, but it's hard to make it out with all the sputtering — something about spice?

Ah.

Everything makes sense now.

Rex's horrible wife takes her time coming over. The waitress bringing him a glass of water seems about ten times more concerned than Andy does as she squats down beside her partner, slapping him heartily on the back. Her voice is wry and much too amused when she comments mildly: ]

Fees like we've been here before, babe.

Sir, I'm so sorry, you must have gotten the wrong order by mistake! That was our Russian Roulette Ghost Pepper Special!

[ Rex doesn't entertain the waitress with a response, instead snatching the glass out of her hand without so much as a thank you, throat bobbing as he downs half of it, and... no, it's still spicy. His mouth is on fire. He might die. But he'll probably vomit and shit himself to death first. Somebody should do him a favour and just shoot him.

The person who is absolutely not doing him a favour is his wretched wife. He looks up at her when she slaps his back with bleary eyes and a scowl. ]

We wouldn't have to be if half of Earth's food didn't try attacking me. Kark this, I -- I --

[ His nose wrinkles. His shoulders rise. Is he gonna puke? ]

[ Much to his despair, Rex lets out a violent hiccup.

Insult to injury, now, is it? He's going to burn off all of his tastebuds, he swears he is. ]

[ His wretched wife could probably at least pretend to be a little concerned, but she knows very well that the Russian Roulette Ghost Pepper Special won't be the end of Captain Rex. His ego might emerge from all this a bit battered, but he'll live. So she doesn't spare his dignity the additional insult of her smirk. Slapping him on the back again, she answers wryly: ]

We really need to work on diversifying your palate, sweetheart.

[ Gentler now — her hand rubs firmly between his shoulder blades. ]

Come on. The war couldn't kill you. This sure as shit won't.

It might, [ Rex says sullenly. ] If this is what diversifying my palate means, I want nothing to do with it.

[ Rex's palate is admittedly small. He sticks in his comfort zone, with food that is at least moderately familiar to him and after a couple of grievous errors - he had no way of knowing that the yellow version of that orange fruit would be so tart - has been wildly unadventurous ever since. Admittedly, nobody around him feels particularly moved to change that, most of them as unfamiliar with it as he is. He raises a brow at her. ]

You wanna try it and tell me what you think? Or do your powers protect your tastebuds as well?

[ It's mean that she's so entertained — but can anyone really blame her? She knows better than anyone the things this man has survived — and hardly the half of it, really — the shit he's seen, the terrible trials of his short life. He's Captain Rex of the 501st. For him to be literally floored not once, but twice by the seasoning in his food...

Well. She could try harder to keep that slight smirk off her face, but she doesn't. ]

No. But I've put a lot of stupid shit in my mouth over my lifetime. Builds up a tolerance. [ Her wryness is amicable. Straightening up, she offers him a hand. ] Come on, Captain. We can still salvage lunch. You can order something gentle.

[ He's choking to death and she's smirking at him. The absolute nerve. He'd argue that he's too dignified for her to be smirking at him like that, but considering the disarray she's seen him in, he can't exactly pull that card anymore. ]

I have a hard time believing you eat things like that for fun, [ he wheezes, taking her hand and standing up. Oh, he's going to have the shits for days. He hates Earth food. Runs right through him.

Before they leave, though, he spears the other half of the ghost pepper dumpling with a fork and holds it out to her. ]

If you do, then go on. Put this stupid shit in your mouth.

[ That's the kind of woman he married — just the type to stand there and smirk at him while he's red in the face from a nearly fatal encounter with a pepper — but he knew that when he threw his lot in with her, and she isn't sorry. All he gets is another light slap on the back for good measure. ]

Seven thousand years is a long time, babe. Sometimes you get bored.

[ Andy shrugs a little, her attention coming to rest on the forkful of dumpling as he extends it towards her. As it happens, she does have a reasonable tolerance for diverse foods — but the curse doesn't make her invulnerable to these things. It'll only grow the tastebuds back once they're burned the hell off. That knowledge alone should probably inspire her refusal — but far be it from Andromache the Scythian to turn down a challenge from the one man in this dimension she sees as her equal.

Not like it'll kill her, anyway.

Making pointed eye contact with him, she leans forward and bites. For a long moment, there's nothing — not even a little twitch as she chews, slow and purposeful. It almost seems like she'll manage to swallow without so much as flinching. But then —

A small cough.

And another.

Her eyebrows pinch. Her lips purse tightly. Her cheeks flush just so.

Fuuuuuuuuhhhh — ]

[ Rex doesn't answer her. He just watches her with the well-concealed glee of a man who knows that his wife is about to get a taste of her own medicine. If nothing else, his stare is as goading as it ever is, absolutely transparent in the fact that he's ready to laugh at someone else about spice intolerance for a change.

He gets exactly what he's looking for as her cheeks begin to flush and darken, and she begins to cough from deep in her chest as though she's trying to restrain it, that age-old poise crumbling before his eyes.

He reaches out and has the absolute nerve to pat her cheek a couple of times. ]

Why, Andy. You're blushing.

[ There are a lot of things she'd like to say to him, right then. Most of them not very fucking nice. Some of them not even in languages still spoken by the living. The building heat in her mouth inspires such foul curses as haven't been heard on the planet Earth since before humans began recording their own history. It's as if Satan himself is gripping her wretched tongue, engulfing it in every fiery circle of hell. Vulcan could have forged swords worthy of the fucking gods from the heat in her mouth. Being literally burned alive almost seems like it'd be an escape from whatever transcendent torture is happening in her throat right now —

It takes all her willpower just to keep her lips pursed. If she opens her mouth, there's no telling what will come out. Flames. Vomit. Screaming. The last meager shreds of her dignity.

She'd rather explode. And given the color of her face, she very well might. It's all she can do to scowl at her loving husband as he pats her flushed cheek, promising vengeance with a glare that would be so much more potent if her eyes weren't starting to water.

Finally, she tries to speak —

— and only manages —

— a small, pathetic wheeze. ]

[ That's what does it.

Rex is not a man who laughs easily or often, even though Andy is the one who gets to see it more than anyone else. You're lucky if you get a twitch of the mouth, a sparkle in his eye. Perhaps a small exhalation from his nose, what one would urbanely describe as a chuckle.

Not this bark of merry laughter that escapes him, uproarious by his standards, bubbling up through his chest as though he can't possibly restrain it. ]

Yeah, [ he says, finally taking pity on her and sliding the glass of milk he was given towards her. Whether she takes it or not is up to her own pride, but she's already lost her dignity, so what's a little pride? ] I thought so. Not so tough now, are you?

[ She has half a mind to resent the fact that he's so entertained at her expense, but it's hard to work herself up to it when she's so damnably charmed by the sight of him — struck by how stupidly in love with him she really is when she hears the rare sound of his laughter. Her ego can take it. Her burning throat can swallow whatever insult there is. It's worth the cost of her dignity — even if she'd rather choke down another mouthful of peppers than admit it out loud.

Instead, she pointedly pulls his glass towards herself, throwing that milk back as if it were a fifth of vodka and she were an alcoholic on a bender. A little of the stuff catches on her upper lip. She wipes it away with the back of her hand, squinting at Rex across the table as she waits for the cool dairy to sooth the hellish burning on her tongue. Finally, she manages: ]

At least one of us is having a good time. [ Her voice is rough. Like a grenade just went off behind her teeth. ] You could pretend to feel sorry for your wife, Captain.

Have you, once in your life, pretended to feel sorry for me? [ Rex points out. He reclines in his chair, which Andy knows is for show, because he doesn't do that unless supremely comfortable or tired, and he looks a bit wrong doing it, smirking merrily at her. ]

I intend to enjoy this. Maybe now you'll think twice before mocking me.

[ ...no she won't. ]

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