Tyler was going through his normal morning routine -- a bunch of sit-ups, a shower, and as much coffee as the human body could hold -- elsewhere in the house.
Or, at least, he was trying to. "Boxer?" he called down the hall, from a safe distance because he was fairly certain Ronon had stayed the night and he did not want to get involved, there. "Did you put the coffee pot someplace weird?"
... all right. So he'd been doing his normal morning stuff at Tony's more often than not, these days.
Tyler snorted. "I have righteous indignation and testosterone every day of the week," he pointed out. "Let's have coffee before we start punching each other."
He gave a snort of a laughter at that. "Nah. Wednesdays are when I try to eat my weight in prime rib," she snarked back. "And here I thought you knew my social calendar."
Or, at least, he was trying to. "Boxer?" he called down the hall, from a safe distance because he was fairly certain Ronon had stayed the night and he did not want to get involved, there. "Did you put the coffee pot someplace weird?"
... all right. So he'd been doing his normal morning stuff at Tony's more often than not, these days.
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He moved things around with a forefinger. "Found it! Boxer, you feeling okay? You sound kinda..."
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"I could take you, but you didn't mock me last time around."
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Damn it. Ronon was right. It was weird not to have long hair.
"So. Any advice for the newly made man? Should I spit indiscriminately? Get a job in construction and make catcalls at hot babes?"
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