[sinks - NOT 'FALLS' - to the floor, waiting a moment to catch himself there before returning to the table. Waits the grace period for his shame to be over, looking over his rather battered body, before speaking] What the hell am I going to tell CID about these bruises? [wipes away some blood from his lip] Maybe I fell down the stairs. [and, after a moment, he realises what that parallels, and giggles laughs]
[opens his mouth to reply, staring, then shakes his head, a small chuckle escaping before it escalates into a full-blown laugh] You're a bleedin' sod, you know that, Tyler? [and offers him a drink]
[accepts the drink] And you, Gene Hunt, are an obnoxious bastard. But I don't need to tell you that. [takes a great big gulp of the drink and leans back, smiling broadly]
One should hope not! [claps him roughly on the shoulder in a totally not!gay and manly show of affection, then takes a drink -- and falls off his bar stool after losing his balance]
[the smile slips from his face when he realises that his DCI just fell off of his barstool (it took awhile for him to realise this) and, after another moment, the smile returns full force as he starts laughing]
[flails a bit in order to get up, beer sloshing everywhere, which bothers him more than Sam laughing, really] Oi, Gladys. Shut your mouth before I shut it for you. [pulls himself up to his feet, finishes off his beer, goes for another]
[still sniggering] Excellent recovery, Guv. ['course, his stomach is not at its best, so he eases off the laughing for its sake. Grinning, though, he can still do]
Oh, just blow it out your arse, Tyler. [but it's all good natured and the Guv is actually grinning as he tops off his glass with the last of the Party Seven] To being a good copper.
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