Shit. Well, so much for the backpedal. But as he settled for an empty bench setup, backed by a spray of wildly alien plants in a large planter box, he sighed and opted to be the table, setting the tray on his lap.

"That's what ain't makin' sense to me! Ya didn't do anything, but it still gave me weird, bitchy jitters. I mean, you can handle yourself, but I felt like... like a bodyguard."

He shook his head and picked up what seemed to smell like some kind of bread, and was pleased to know that it was when he bit down. Yet something deep in his belly wanted something else. Why did he go for the bread but not the meat? Why didn't he, to boot, roar at the crowd that he dared anybody to walk up and say something, giving him no choice but to knock every tooth out of their head-

His stomach clenched. He hated when guys did that shit. Hell, he was like that once. But he was getting better, right? Why was he having thoughts like that? Wasn't he working on being a better person?

"Maybe I'm antsy 'cause it's a hospital... s'been a while. Not since you made us all go and get checked out."


[Got an overflow thread here.]