"Yes," Arran agreed, because who wouldn't be jealous of him when he had a Chloe to come and pick him up? And a Rock, though of course the rest of the team didn't know about that, Chloe had said it was a secret. "At least Derrick and Bole can take each other home," he commented, though glancing around he couldn't see them. "Or maybe they already did." Chloe's agreement that there could be Halloween underwear made him grin, pressing a clumsy kiss against Chloe's mouth. "Such an excellent, sexy wife," he informed her. "Shall I buy Halloween underwear, too?" Underwear for men was simply not as exciting as underwear for women, but if Arran could find some with bats on, or something, Chloe would probably find it amusing. "Maybe I'll dress as Batman. Are we having a party? Do you think Evan can put something spooky in the window? Like -" Arran couldn't, off the top of his head, think of anything suitably spooky. "Ghosts? Muggles think ghosts are spooky." Wizards and witches mostly didn't, because they knew ghosts were real and nearly all of them had gone to a school where one was a (very boring) teacher.
Taking the basket, Arran gave it a gentle (albeit, drunk gentle) swing, causing Rock to squeak, and Arran laughed. "Good, good, being drunk all the time wouldn't be very good for work. And I get drunk a lot less than I used to, and it'd be sad if you would've liked me better before." There had definitely been a period when Arran had partied hard on a regular basis, though he'd never turned up drunk to work. "I'm happier now," he added. "Not that I was drinking because I was sad, just - I was young, it was what you did." He did his best to flex his muscles under Chloe's touch, which seemed to take a very great deal of co-ordination. "That's the point of muscle," he said, not very coherently.
Rock, after briefly buzzing against Arran's shoes, zoomed off - possibly to the bathroom, or possibly to find Chloe's much more exciting shoes. "We can just get in the shower?" Arran suggested. "If you put me in a bath, I might fall asleep." Arran didn't feel tired, exactly, more relaxed and wobbly. "It was only one man," he added. "And I did try to stop him." Arran hadn't, granted, tried particularly hard, because it had seemed both funny and harmless. "Are you jealous?" he asked, frowning. Maybe he should have tried harder.