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Sam Victorio // Max Guevara (notanumber) wrote in thereincarnates,

"Good point. He was always a little high strung. Not that I have any room to talk." The world their reincarnates came from wasn't exactly conducive to relaxing, anyone would be wound a little tight what with the constant state of fear and paranoia.  She'd take the Agency, Camelot, and whatever the mundanes came up with anyway over Manticore and martial law. This was a fight they might actually make some progress in, if they were lucky.  If it even mattered, without their reincarnates.  With that thought, Sam took another drink.

"Floor, couch, it's all good." She grinned teasingly, turning to look up at him. "I bet you end up on the floor before I do anyway." That was based on absolutely zero evidence, but she'd go with it. Sam tried to remember if she'd been this cocky and overconfident before Max or if it had come along with the super-soldier abilities. No, she'd always been like this. Possibly worse, when she was a teenager.  She had mellowed out some, although no one she knew now was likely to believe that.