Fucking aces. It felt like it'd been an entire goddamn lifetime since he'd - maybe he shouldn't jump the gun. But even with his tendencies to have a one-track mind what was being thrown onto the table sounded a lot like he was gettin' some. Score.
He felt a little bad ditching other plans, but said other plans probably had much better things to do than deal with Actual Horny Teenager Dave Strider. Ambiguity was an annoying thing, and this was at least fairly obvious - he'd get his car tomorrow and all would be right in at least that aspect of the world.
Hustling around his house he gathered a few things; anxiety medication (just in case), his jacket, keys, phone. He pulled a pint of red velvet ice cream from the freezer and a bottle of his favourite scotch from the liquor cabinet. He'd only taken a shot or two from it, so it was mostly full. Cool. He stood in the middle of his kitchen and hummed quietly, trying to see if he'd forgotten anything. He didn't seem to think so. He headed to the transportalizer in the pantry of his kitchen, typing in the coords he'd gotten.
Smiled to himself a little as he got on, and pressed the button.
Yeah, this was going to be a good wrap-up to a shitty few days.
"Robyn?" Nothing. "I've got ice cream and booze and copious amounts of sexiness I hate keeping all to myself. Limited time offer for me to share, while supplies last, not valid with any other offer."
