"Yes, exactly." Dexter mumbled, sighing and relaxing, sprawled over Erskine's lap. "And I did not bring it on myself. Paddy's nephew refused to believe I could actually conjure a working dirt-bike. I had to prove him wrong, didn't I?"
"Of course you did," Gabe said, straight-faced, as he managed to gain control of his laughing fit. "Now the question is how you're going to get to bed, or how you'll convince Corrival to take you home?"
"I'm still too old for him," Corrival said blandly. "Erskine, on the other hand ..."
Gabe glanced down at Skulduggery with a smile, still leaning on the back of the detective's chair. "I do," he said, "and it's ... tolerable." He made a face. "Relatively speaking. I'm still not planning on extending myself, aside from those wards I promised to raise. Not until Rafe can heal me properly, anyway."
'And I'd really quite appreciate a massage, if that's what you're asking,' he added mentally, where no one could hear and therefore tease them. 'Apart from that, I could use a grooming.'
If Skulduggery wasn't willing, Gabe would ask Raphael. Gabe didn't think Skulduggery would be unwilling. Possibly just a little awkward.
A moment later he nearly stuffed his hand in his mouth, his shoulders shaking with another laughing bout.
"Oh, not really," Dexter said, waving a lazy hand. "Most sorcerers haven't a clue about how to be happy. Remember that idiot from Somerset who was always on guard duty and didn't have a sense of humour? Grumpy this, grumpy that. I still say he just needed a bit of fun in his life."
Corrival was shaking his head, his mouth twitching like he was torn between laughing and presenting a sane front. "After having lived in the same tent for a century," he said, "you find that personal space tends to shrink. Especially with a group like the Dead Men who don't take anything seriously and are obsessed with setting new records." He shrugged. "Pretty sure they had most of the camp convinced there were orgies every night. I actually got noise complaints."
He chose not to mention the part about Dexter being married. Not because he thought the Edgleys wouldn't take it well--but because he wasn't sure Dexter would appreciate Rover being mentioned. Then he decided to Hell with it; he had never coddled his men or ever will, and it wouldn't serve Dex to keep pussy-footing around his grief as if it was as fresh as having happened yesterday.
"Of course," he continued blandly, "we're also talking about a group of men of whom two decided to get married just so they could have a party afterward. Something about it having been over a year since the last party, and their needing an excuse to throw one. Codswallop, I say, but it was a very nice ceremony."
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"Of course you did," Gabe said, straight-faced, as he managed to gain control of his laughing fit. "Now the question is how you're going to get to bed, or how you'll convince Corrival to take you home?"
"I'm still too old for him," Corrival said blandly. "Erskine, on the other hand ..."
Gabe glanced down at Skulduggery with a smile, still leaning on the back of the detective's chair. "I do," he said, "and it's ... tolerable." He made a face. "Relatively speaking. I'm still not planning on extending myself, aside from those wards I promised to raise. Not until Rafe can heal me properly, anyway."
'And I'd really quite appreciate a massage, if that's what you're asking,' he added mentally, where no one could hear and therefore tease them. 'Apart from that, I could use a grooming.'
If Skulduggery wasn't willing, Gabe would ask Raphael. Gabe didn't think Skulduggery would be unwilling. Possibly just a little awkward.
A moment later he nearly stuffed his hand in his mouth, his shoulders shaking with another laughing bout.
"Oh, not really," Dexter said, waving a lazy hand. "Most sorcerers haven't a clue about how to be happy. Remember that idiot from Somerset who was always on guard duty and didn't have a sense of humour? Grumpy this, grumpy that. I still say he just needed a bit of fun in his life."
Corrival was shaking his head, his mouth twitching like he was torn between laughing and presenting a sane front. "After having lived in the same tent for a century," he said, "you find that personal space tends to shrink. Especially with a group like the Dead Men who don't take anything seriously and are obsessed with setting new records." He shrugged. "Pretty sure they had most of the camp convinced there were orgies every night. I actually got noise complaints."
He chose not to mention the part about Dexter being married. Not because he thought the Edgleys wouldn't take it well--but because he wasn't sure Dexter would appreciate Rover being mentioned. Then he decided to Hell with it; he had never coddled his men or ever will, and it wouldn't serve Dex to keep pussy-footing around his grief as if it was as fresh as having happened yesterday.
"Of course," he continued blandly, "we're also talking about a group of men of whom two decided to get married just so they could have a party afterward. Something about it having been over a year since the last party, and their needing an excuse to throw one. Codswallop, I say, but it was a very nice ceremony."