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"W-well.. we... we shouldn't waste too much time ah... if we need to meet any er... dress codes?" Jerry cleared his throat, still eyeing the bottles.

He had never seen such a fantastic bar within a hotel room before.

Well... well they were on leave, right? And... and there to have fun and celebrate Marcus's love and.... and Dakota was already diving in. He didn't want to drink alone, right? And... and someone had brought up bitches and... and he didn't want to be a stick in the mud, he aught to loosen up a little, right?

Right.

He carefully selected a bottle, wetting his lips nervously as he unscrewed the lid and carefully smelled what was inside.

Just a little glass. Don't chug it from the bottle. Enjoy it. But not too much. Just a little. It was going to be a long night. Were there glasses? Dakota was swigging from the bottle... but no no no that would just encourage him to drink the WHOLE bottle and that wouldn't do, not before he got something more presentable to wear....

After staring at the open bottle for some time, he finally fumbled for a glass and ice. Keep it classy. It was his first drink in.... months. He'd calculate the days later when he knew what day it actually was.

But it was a bachelor's party. It was okay to break his fast for a party, right? If it was right there and no one was around and there were no cameras...

"Guys. Guys there's no cameras in here, right?" His hand holding the bottle, ready to pour hovered over his glass as his face paled.

"Right. If it doesn't burn, then I'm drunk." Dakota blinked at the redheaded male before taking another swig. Didn't go down easy at all this time either. His eyes landed on Marcus before nodding. "Sure you don't want any?"

"I wanted to try it before we went out but...." Pushing himself up, he scratched his chin and grinned. "Let's hit the shops and get....classy before we head out?" Dakota shrugged, "I could do with some different digs I guess." His jeans and turtleneck sweater didn't do much for the teenager, not really helping his age factor either.

"Again I say Marcus. Clothes then Casino? Slots? Cirque de Solil?" Dakota clapped his brother on the back, "Oh before I forget...." He went to the bar, pulling out a pile of cards and then looked at those present. "Here's a keycard for each of you, we got cells but in case you get lost, the keycard has the address and room number on it." Yes...Dakota had asked specifically for that because...new place and he wanted to make sure they got back to the portal.

It was actually one of the hunters idea that he would owe a favor too.

Not going to lie though, Dakota looked like a child bursting at the seams. He just wanted to play with ALL THE THINGS.

"Yo Jerry, Get your classy fancy a** glass of booze over here. Me and you need to talk about some fine a** bitches we need to have on our arms....What do you think about those feathered dancers that they always show on Vegas commericals?" Dakota grinned. He wouldn't mind two of those on his arms.

Marcus once more relented. "Fine." A shot glass, whiskey, and he poured himself one.

"We get clothes then hit the nearest casino. See how it rolls from there."

One shot was downed, a lot to probably follow.

Harrison had gawked, and touched, and then in a sort of distant daze gone to stand contemplatively by the picture window. Below he could see the glittering lights, like he'd shined a flashlight into a wishing well.

He could hear the snap of bottles behind him- not beer, but small expensive liquors, as colorful and varied as the contents of a chocolate ********, this was how it was supposed to be, should be every night.

Sprawling beds with silk sheets. Parties on private yachts. Dinners and shows...but after this they were right back to slim mattresses and bunkbeds. They bust their asses saving the world, and what do they got to show for it?

48 hours, B0nez said.

Yeah, alright.. And more when he wasn't a trainee any longer. Plus a pay bonus... he fingered the curtains.

Please tell me I am going to see some actual tits, B0nez said.

Jerry was just draining his glass, and spilled a bit down his chin and front as his poor abused cellphone went off. It was the same phone that had survived the fall from the roof, suffering just a cracked display screen.

While it took him an extra moment to read the text, it didn't stop it's legibility. He glanced up at Jordan with a pained expression. He pulled himself to his feet, setting the glass down on the bedside table as he limped towards his fellow Sun in what he hoped was a nonchalant way, "Y-yeah, we'll ah... we'll be quick." He cleared his throat, the one drink already creeping it's way to his head as he smiled and put an arm around Jordan's shoulder, his voice dropping down low so only he could hear, "I'll be fine, I promise! We're in Vegas, right? And... and what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?"

"Dude," Jordan said, very quietly and a little pained. "I'm sorry, but I mean it. Keep it under control. Please." He slipped out from under Jerry's arm, glancing at him with a briefly worried expression, then pulled his cheerful face back on and moved toward the door.

"Yeah alright, I'm coming," Harrison pulled away from the window, and collected a keycard and fake ID from Dakota. "Ha, we'd need these regardless. Don't know what my mom would say if I turned up in Vegas all of a sudden."

That was the second time Jerry had been....touchy, and Jordan had slipped away from him.

Was something...?

Nah. Nobody had the privacy for anything to be going on. ...He'd just keep an eye on it, is all. "We'll be back in a flash. Don't order any Firemen without us."

Was it bad that Wilson enjoyed taking naps? Yes? No? Maybe? No, at this point it was just him going to bed ridiculously early. He was too deep in his sleep to realize he had received a text message. It was likely he would have missed the text altogether.

But that was until he decided to roll off the bed.

He fell to the floor with a clatter. There was a loud yelp from the man as his head banged against the corner of the nightstand. Wilson could feel a sharp pain in the back of his skull and he brought up a hand to cover the spot. Teeth gritted, he spent the next few minutes spread out across the floor with the bed sheet. Then he tilted back his head to stare at his phone, peeking over the edge of the stand. He reached up to grab it so he could check his inbox. Wilson raised an eyebrow when he noticed there were a couple new texts from Dakota. What shenanigans was he up to now?

Then he read it. Then he paused. Wait…Wait. What. How did—What—Why—?? There was a mad dash for some clothes to stuff into his backpack before he rushed out the door. s**t s**t s**t s**t Dakota was going to kill him, wasn’t he?

A rather breathless Wilson finally hopped through the portal and found himself in a hotel room. The bag slung over his shoulders, he leaned over to place his hands on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath. “Ahhhh! Um. Finally. Uh. Here. Yes. Sorry for being. Late. Yeah. Uhhh. Grats Marcus? Yeah. Dakota. Hi.”

Oh look. And there was Clerise! "Clerise. Hi."

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