politics are better when there's sex. and fistfighting.
Being homeless was probably a lot easier on this island than it was back in DC. But the fact still remained that Sam and Josh had no home anymore (at least until they built themselves another one) and so Sam had taken to sleeping in the compound. A new shelter wasn't going to take long to build, but until then, Sam would be damned if he would sleep without something over his head.
He was actually a little pissed at Josh at the moment, and was glad of the chance to avoid picking a fight with him. It wasn't that he was annoyed about Buffy, per se, though he did think it was rich that Josh, the man who never failed to get a crack off about Sam's dating habits, had been caught with a half-naked twenty-year-old on his lap in a public place. The New York Times is crying that they missed out on that one, he thought to himself with a cynical smirk.
No, Sam's annoyance was springing from that vein of thought that he didn't enjoy consciously tapping into all that often; the place in his brain that hated every woman Josh had ever been with, the place that wanted to set that Doyle character on fire, the place that wondered why he seemed incapable of holding down a decent relationship without any interruptions. But then again, Sam reflected, there was a very good reason he didn't let that part of his brain take over too often; it was because that was the part of him that was still fifteen years old.
So now he was sitting on a chair in the rec room (the couch being completely unsafe anymore) with a book on his lap, one leg over the arm, trying to get comfortable enough to feel like curling up in said chair and going to sleep. It wasn't working all that well.
[ooc - mainly for josh and cordelia; others are welcome but he's not in a very talkative mood so don't be sad if he seems unresponsive. ^^;;;]
He was actually a little pissed at Josh at the moment, and was glad of the chance to avoid picking a fight with him. It wasn't that he was annoyed about Buffy, per se, though he did think it was rich that Josh, the man who never failed to get a crack off about Sam's dating habits, had been caught with a half-naked twenty-year-old on his lap in a public place. The New York Times is crying that they missed out on that one, he thought to himself with a cynical smirk.
No, Sam's annoyance was springing from that vein of thought that he didn't enjoy consciously tapping into all that often; the place in his brain that hated every woman Josh had ever been with, the place that wanted to set that Doyle character on fire, the place that wondered why he seemed incapable of holding down a decent relationship without any interruptions. But then again, Sam reflected, there was a very good reason he didn't let that part of his brain take over too often; it was because that was the part of him that was still fifteen years old.
So now he was sitting on a chair in the rec room (the couch being completely unsafe anymore) with a book on his lap, one leg over the arm, trying to get comfortable enough to feel like curling up in said chair and going to sleep. It wasn't working all that well.
[ooc - mainly for josh and cordelia; others are welcome but he's not in a very talkative mood so don't be sad if he seems unresponsive. ^^;;;]