That's what it all came down to eventually for all of them, really. Survival. Keeping their wits together just enough to see another day, another night. Then again with nights like this one it's hard to complain.

He leans in a little too, the stubble of the neatly trimmed beard he'd kept since their island adventure (for Bagoas, though it has - pardon the pun - grown on him) likely brushing her cheek.

"A few weeks from now it'll be three annuals here for me," he says and cna't help a tiny sigh. "I'm...doing okay, I think. I like my house, I love my friends, it's...I've been worse off. As you know."

Nope, he wasn't going to ask for details of whatever memories she'd seen.