"Oh, that shit is on Youtube, along with all my other nude runs that I did for pretty much any reason I felt like. I put them up myself." Not that they had internet here. Or Youtube. Whatever. "One time, I got mad at Wash for making me wake up early for laps, so I showed up naked thinking that he would get pissed and let me go. Nope. Fucker still made me do laps, obstacle courses, and pushups naked." He made a face, curious. "I still can't tell if he actually liked it or not."

When she laughed, he laughed, and the whole thing just felt like the mood was lighter even in a med tent. Shit, it just felt good to laugh in general, when so much other stuff was tossed up, fucked up, wrong; it felt like springtime, when maybe this could get better. Maybe...maybe the epidemic wouldn't be so bad.

Or, at least, that's what he wanted to believe.

Fuck it. He reached out and grabbed that hand, threading his fingers with hers as she moved over. He'd have to set his palm on fire after to get rid of the germs, but what a small price to pay. "How the fuck haven't you gone on a date?! You're a fucking princess; people should be lining up for miles. What do they do, keep you in a cave until it's your wedding da--nevermind. I'm sure that's exactly what they do, isn't it?"

How the hell would Tex and Carolina have dealt with growing up here? Shit.

"Um, I don't know. Probably something universal, like chicken or Italian or pizza. Everyone loves pizza; if you don't, you're clearly Satan. ...You do have pizza here?" Because if not, he was talking to the kitchen people about recipes. Contrary to popular belief, Tucker could cook. "And my movie? Fuck, there's only one movie worth watching, done by the illustrious, talented, and genius: Quentin Tarantino. It's a little quiet film called 'Reservoir Dogs'.

"Warning: there's no dogs, but there's a lot of badass scenes and one of the greatest monologues about tipping ever."