Adam let out a quiet grunt as his body slowly started waking up. He wiggled around a bit only to find out that he had someone's arm thrown over him. Furrowing his brow, he opened his eyes and tried to prop himself up only to be pulled back into an insistent embrace. What the hell? Why was he sharing a bed with someone? Most importantly, why was he getting smothered like this? Scowling, he turned his head to find that the person holding him was Pritchard. Right... Now he remembered.

They were at the bar last night. At first, he was by himself, then MacReady came along telling him about a fight he had with Pritchard. They all ended up drinking together and giving each other hell until the point in which both MacReady and Pritchard were so drunk they couldn't see straight. At some point, they switched from beer to vodka. Not too long after that decision, Pritchard ended up crawling out of the bar and throwing up on the sidewalk while Mac, miraculously still capable of walking, came after him to tease him about how he can't hold his liquor. Since the hacker was incapable of making decisions for himself at the time, it was up to Adam to pay for whichever drinks still needed to be paid and drag him someplace safe. They ended up going to his apartment because he had no idea where Pritchard was staying and the hacker was incapable of saying a word, let alone giving him an address. Adam laid him down on the couch and once he made sure the other man was still breathing, went to take a shower. Once he was done, he headed for the bedroom only to find Pritchard passed out on the bed. It seemed like the hacker used the last bits of his strength to get to what he thought was his bed and fall back into a coma. Adam decided that he wasn't sleeping on the couch just because he had to take care of a drunken idiot and placed a bucket next to the bed just in case, right before laying down himself.

Apparently, Pritchard was the cuddly kind of drunk as Adam's next attempt at getting up proved just as futile as the last one. The hacker held him closer, mumbling unintelligibly. Adam couldn't help but roll his eyes. This was just too awkward to be true...

"Pritchard." he tried as he pushed at him to let go.

The only answer he got was some more mumbling.

"Pritchard." he insisted, pushing at him once more.

The hacker gripped him tighter, curling in on him.

"Let me go you drunk idiot..." Adam grunted, elbowing him to the ribs.

The harsh gesture finally seemed to have worked as Pritchard jerked awake with a gasp: "What?! Where..." Upon noticing the Aug lying in front of him, his eyes widened: "Jensen...? What the hell are you doing in my bed?"

"That's my bed, Francis. You're in my apartment." Adam corrected him.

Pritchard let out a pained groan and rolled over onto his back, shielding his eyes with his arm: "What-" He coughed. Apparently, his throat was totally dry. "What happened?" he rasped.

"You got completely wasted last night, that's what happened." answered Adam as he got up.

"Oh god..." Pritchard wheezed. "Please tell me I haven't slept with you."

At that, Adam raised an eyebrow: "Told you I don't swing that way."

"My eye hurts..." grumbled Pritchard. "I don't...ugh..."

"Do you remember anything?" inquired Adam as he started walking towards the door. Pritchard obviously needed some water and it didn't look like he'd be able to get it himself anytime soon.

"Just bits and...ah! My head..." came the ragged answer.

"Does the name MacReady ring any bells?" Adam pushed on.

A moment of hesitation. "The British guy...yeah, I remember him..." said Pritchard at length.

Adam opened his mouth to answer but all that came out was a grunt as his foot suddenly came into contact with something that was definitely not supposed to be there. He tripped and fell,landing right on top of it. The thing, or rather, the person he landed on groaned with pain.

"Bloody...fuck!"

Adam propped himself up on his elbow staring at the man lying under him. Why was he not surprised?

"Good morning, MacReady."

The Brit curled in on himself, clutching the place where Adam kicked him. "Fuckin' hell, Jensen! You almost cracked my rib!" he complained. "What in the blazes are your feet made of?"

"You don't wanna know." answered Adam as he got up, careful not to step on him. "How did you get in here anyway?"

"Oh shit..." croaked Mac. "The stench coming out of my mouth...it's like a mass gave..."

Sighing, Adam looked him over. It seemed like his interrogation would have to wait. "How's your head?" he offered instead.

"Somewhere around 'please tell me I'm gonna die quickly'...how's that sound?" answered Mac as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Really bad." commented Adam dryly. "Hang on, I'll get you some water."

"Just put me out of my misery, it's not worth it." groaned Mac.

"You're the one...to talk..." coughed Pritchard from the bed.

"Stop yelling for Christ's sake!" growled Mac, clutching his head with both hands.

Adam shook his head at the idiocy of both of them and just headed to the kitchen to bring them the water he promised. This was going to be a very long morning. Damn, what day was it?

"HUD on." he rumbled.

It was Saturday, a little past 9AM. If he played his cards right he could still get to spend his Sunday all by himself and enjoy some peace and quiet. Comforting himself with the thought, he retrieved two glasses from one of the kitchen cabinets and poured them full. As he placed them on the counter he took a peek inside the fridge to find what he expected. Aside from a few beers and a carton of milk, it was completely empty. He scowled. A bowl of cereal was the perfect breakfast for him but for the two unwanted guests lying around in the back, not so much. Pritchard would probably throw that right in his face even if he wasn't suffering from a severe hangover. Mentally groaning with frustration, he grabbed the two glasses and headed back towards the source of his headache. MacReady was still lying where he left him, except now he was on his back and looking up at him with bloodshot eyes. Adam knelt down next to him and held out the glass.

"Drink up." he said.

Mac accepted the glass with a weak nod and grunted as he used his free hand to prop himself up into sitting position. Slumping against the wall, he drank it all at once.

"Thanks, you can be a real pal when you want to be."

"Don't push it, MacReady." answered Adam as he got up to bring the second glass to Pritchard.

The hacker was still lying on the bed with an arm thrown over his face, his entire demeanor just screaming drama and pain. If Adam didn't have to take care of him the image would be borderline comical.

"Francis." he addressed him as he stopped by the bedside.

Pritchard lifted his arm, giving him an agonized look. With a noise that sounded suspiciously like a whine, he pushed himself upwards and as he was half-sitting half-lying there, took the glass from him. After a barely audible 'thank you, Jensen' the water was gone in a single gulp.

"I'm gonna head off to get you something for breakfast. Just sit tight and try not to kill each other while I'm gone." said Adam as he walked towards the closet to find a fresh set of clothes.

"The disagreement we had last night was pretty minor if you ask me." shrugged Mac.

"Minor? You're calling this minor?" objected Pritchard as he pointed at his dark swollen eye.

"Jesus, Pritchie, I've met women tougher than you." answered Mac with a half-grin. "You're overreacting, mate."

Pritchard opened his mouth to retort only to be outran by Adam: "Weren't you two hungover just a second ago? I liked you much better when you were quiet and wallowing in your pain."

"Hey, unlike the little princeling in your bed, I know how to handle a bit of a headache." countered Mac vehemently.

"Well, at least I'm not a big hairy brute with an IQ level somewhere along the lines of a broken thumbtack." sneered Pritchard.

"Hate to break it to you, Pritchie, but messing around with computers isn't exactly rocket science." drawled Mac mockingly. "I bet I could do plenty of the stuff you do myself and then what? How will you be better than me, Sissy-boy?"

"Hey, you take that back!"

At that, Adam facepalmed and quickly walked past MacReady to get out of there. Grabbing his coat along the way, he stalked out of the apartment without saying a word. Why was he even trying? Why did he bother? He reached inside his pocket and lit a cigarette. Hopefully those two idiots would run out of energy by the time he got back.

The walk to the store was overly quiet and relaxing aside from a few stray insults thrown at him by some kids, nothing he wasn't used to or hasn't heard before. He didn't buy much, just one more box of his favorite cereal and two cartons of eggs along with some juice and a spare pack of cigarettes. It took him much shorter than he anticipated, upon checking his HUD he found out that he was gone just for a little less than half an hour. Mentally bracing himself, he headed up the stairs towards his apartment, hoping that the argument Pritchard and MacReady were having when he left was done. He wasn't in the mood for any more of their crap.

As he opened the door he was greeted by a second of absolute silence followed by some sickly noises coming from the bathroom. Knowing full well that he's going to regret it, he set the groceries down on the table and went to investigate. The first thing he noticed was that Mac was no longer slumped against the wall in the corridor. One quick glance at the bathroom door and he realized that it was open. Peeking inside, he found an image that looked like a scene from a bad movie. Pritchard was heaving into the toilet, his shaking hands clinging to the seat for dear life while Mac sat behind him with an expression probably best described as disgruntled, making sure the other man's hair stayed out of the way.

"Your pal Pritchard's having some hardware issues." proclaimed the Brit the moment he noticed Adam in the doorway. "Good grief, Jensen, where do you find guys like this? Being friends with wimps, is tha- Ow! That's my bad knee you ungrateful piece of shit!"

Apparently, Pritchard still had enough energy to kick him for that remark.

Mac responded by tightening the grip upon his hair and pulling at it: "Careful Pritchie, might lose some hair along the way if you keep this up."

"He's not the only one." commented Adam snidely as he ran a hand through his own. So this was what having kids felt like... Leaving them to their squabbles, he headed to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Maybe if he cooked enough food for them they'd shut up for more than two seconds. Shrugging off his coat onto the nearest chair, he fished out an old banged up frying pan from one of the kitchen cabinets and got to work.

He'd barely managed to make the first batch of scrambled eggs when he heard footsteps behind him.

"Oooh, whatcha cooking, wifey?" inquired Mac as he approached him and...

Adam let out a surprised yelp and almost fell face-first onto the frying pan as the Brit slapped his rear. He gave the man a look that was half-incredulous and half-irritated: "Are you still drunk?"

Apparently, Mac's decided to ignore the question as he moved to the left and helped himself to the steaming plate on the counter: "Smells delicious... I would ask if it's for me first, but-"

"You wouldn't." interrupted Adam with an eye roll. "If you're looking for a fork it's in the first drawer on your right." he added as he cracked some more eggs and started stirring the resulting substance on the pan.

"Now you're really starting to sound like one of my ex-wives." prodded Mac as he opened the drawer and started rummaging around in it.

"I just have this headache that comes and goes, it has a British accent and a terrible sense of humor." proclaimed Adam with a nonchalant shrug.

Mac shook his head: "Jesus mate, at least I have a sense of humor to begin with. Why don't you do us both a favor and get one for yourself too?"

"How's Pritchard?" asked Adam in an attempt to change the subject.

"He'll live." shrugged Mac as he headed towards the kitchen table. "But I don't think he'll be in any shape to eat."

"Figures." said Adam in response.

Another set of footsteps heading their way. Out of the corner of his eye, Adam noticed the pale, apparently miserable Pritchard in the doorway. He was unsteady on his feet, his hair a mess of tangles resembling a dead animal.

"Speak of the devil..." grinned Mac.

Pritchard moved to sit down at the table, apparently taking in the smell of the food Adam was making.

"This actually smells nice... I had no idea you could cook, Jensen." he said, licking his lips a little.

"Anyone can make eggs, Francis." shrugged Adam as he started moving the now fully cooked food onto a plate.

"Yes, but I've never seen you eat anything but cereal and Cyberboost bars." Pritchard shot back. "Mostly my Cyberboost bars." he added with a grunt.

"Wait...aren't those the special energy bars for hanzers?" asked Mac, waving his fork at him.

"They used to be...back when they still made them." answered Pritchard cautiously.

Mac dropped the fork onto his plate and leaned over the table to take a closer look at him.

"So you're a hanzer too?" he inquired. "I don't see anything that would give you away."

"Maybe I just ate them because I liked the taste." said Pritchard with a raised eyebrow.

"You can drop the act, Francis. He's not asking because he wants to send you to Golem." said Adam as he pulled up a chair and sat down, placing the steaming plate onto the table in front of himself.

"That doesn't mean he has to know everything!" objected Pritchard irately.

"So you are augmented." concluded Mac with an upward twitch of his lips. "Augmented and paranoid."

At that, Pritchard turned to Adam, giving him an intense glare: "Were you two talking about me all this time?"

"No, I just pointed out the obvious." chuckled Mac before the Aug had a chance to answer. "There's no need to be so goddamn defensive, Pritchie. We're just having a nice chat over breakfast."

"Stop calling me that ridiculous nickname, MacReady." demanded Pritchard, his voice now dripping venom.

Sensing another argument on the horizon, Adam quickly weighed in: "Want to try the eggs, Francis?"

Pritchard sighed with exasperation: "My god, Jensen, have you failed to notice that I was puking my guts out maybe a minute ago? No, I don't feel like eating anything."

"Just trying to make you shut up before it's too late." answered Adam snidely. "Both of you." he added before Mac had a chance to comment on it. At first, he intended to leave it at that and hope for the best but then a glorious plot for revenge occurred to him. It was perfect, he was going to get back at MacReady for slapping him earlier and divert Pritchard's attention another way all at the same time.

"This is why you have three ex-wives, MacReady." he proclaimed casually.

"You have three ex-wives and you had the gall to give us both dating tips last night?" asked Pritchard sounding half-incredulous and half-amused.

Adam tried his best to maintain a straight face, internally laughing his ass off. Pritchard responded with exactly the same words he imagined he would use.

"At least I had a wife at some point." Mac tried to object, but it was apparent that he didn't like the turn the conversation was starting to take. When the only answer he got was Pritchard's shit-eating grin and Adam stabbing at his food with feigned disinterest, he continued: "You've got no idea what that's like. Duncan this, Duncan that... It's more hassle than it's worth."

"That doesn't really lessen the irony." prodded Pritchard, the grin never leaving his face. "Actually, it adds up to it, knowing that you keep teasing me about my name yet yours is...Duncan. Should I start calling you Dunkie now? Sounds kind of like drunkie...I think I like it, fits you perfectly."

"Thought you were better than this, Pritchie." Mac shot back, the last word a drawl more than anything. "I'd be careful if I were you, I don't take kindly to low blows."

"Is that a challenge?" sneered Pritchard.

Adam got up from the table to make himself a cup of coffee. He would've preferred popcorn with the kind of scene that was about to unfold but he was going to have to make do with what he had. If he couldn't have some peace and quiet in the morning at least he would have peace, it certainly looked like the two of them would be at it for quite a while. Grabbing his favorite cup, he got to work. Let the verbal sparring commence!

A few days later:

Adam stirred in his sleep as he heard someone talking.

"Wakey, wakey, Jensen."

Groaning, he rolled over onto his back.

"C'mon, I know you can hear me."

He threw an arm over his face, trying to delay the inevitable wake-up.

"Not in the mood to talk to me? Well, too bad, you're gonna have to." demanded the voice. That damn accent...

"What do you want, MacReady?" rasped Adam, his body still hanging somewhere between sleeping and being awake. "Why are you calling me?" he added the moment he opened his eyes and realized that the Brit wasn't actually in the room, but speaking through his infolink.

"Oh, just wanted to chat with one of my good pals before going to sleep." proclaimed Mac cheerfully.

Adam groaned and sat up on the bed: "What time is it?"

"It's 2AM." the infolink informed him, except this time the voice sounded rather nasally and downright gleeful.

Adam rubbed his face with both sleepiness and frustration: "Pritchard? How are both of you calling me at once?"

"We're not, it's just one call." answered Pritchard dryly.

"Yeah, Frank's decided to crawl out of whatever shell he now calls home and came over to my place." added Mac.

"So he's Frank now and you let him into your apartment? What happened to calling him Pritchie and claiming that he's a wimp?" inquired Adam, feeling genuinely surprised about such development.

"We just had a couple of beers together and came to an agreement." answered Mac in that dangerously cheerful tone again.

"Ever heard the term 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend', Jensen? I'm sure you have." purred Pritchard. "Don't think we haven't noticed what you did last time. We're not stupid."

"I can't recall doing anything aside from taking care of your hungover asses." countered Adam.

"Really now?" prodded Pritchard snidely. "This is why you have three ex-wives, MacReady. Does that one ring a bell?"

"Smooth move, Jensen, I gotta give you that." said Mac in a similarly sarcastic tone. "You must've loved it when we were at each other's throat for half an hour straight."

"Right, so you're blaming me for the fact that you can't stand each other." rumbled Adam in response.

"On the contrary, we just need some time to think of a suitable payback." said Pritchard nonchalantly.

"Which brings us to our next topic, Friday night, the Red Queen, just like last time." added Mac casually.

At that, Adam shook his head, believing that he didn't hear them right: "What?"

"We want you to go grab a drink with us on Friday, what part of that don't you understand, Jensen?" asked Pritchard in a tone that sounded like he's talking to a three-year-old.

"The part where I'm actually going to come." Adam bit back.

"You are if you know what's good for you." countered Mac.

"Because even if you don't show up, we know where you live." said Pritchard bluntly.

Adam opened his mouth to object only to be outran by MacReady: "Look mate, we just think that it's pretty sad that the only fun you have in life is pitting us against each other. You should get some real hobbies."

"Long story short, the sooner you agree the sooner you can go back to sleep." proclaimed Pritchard, the sarcastic undertones in his voice somewhat dialed down. It almost sounded like he cared.

Adam sighed, running a hand through the mess that was his hair. After this conversation, he could see Pritchard and MacReady getting along just fine once they got past the initial snark battle and if they kept their drinking on a reasonable level, but why were they trying to drag him into this? It wasn't like it was any of his business if they've suddenly decided to become friends...

"Jensen? Just say yes already. I don't want to have to kidnap you." said Mac in a similar, almost-caring tone.

Adam let out a low grunt, contemplating his options. There really weren't any if the last thing MacReady said was true. He was either going to say yes right away or save it for when the Brit actually got serious about his threat.

"Alright, fine." he grumbled at length. "One drink."

"That's all we were asking for." said Mac, the grin apparent in his voice. "Good night, Jensen."

"Yeah, night." answered Adam, trying to wrap his mind around what just happened.