Oh yeah, she was good and sloshed. Pike had been there enough times to spot it in others. Difference here was that she'd apparently had enough to overcome Slayer metabolism. He really didn't want to know how many drinks that actually took, but he made a mental note to keep an eye out for the symptoms of alcohol poisoning, just in case. Outwardly, he kept up the chummy small talk. "Oh yeah, I know how that is. My best bud back in the day, I loved him like a brother, but man could he bitch. Really harshed the buzz." He tried to keep the sadness from his eyes when he talked about Benny, but he wasn't sure if he was completely successful. Still, maybe talking about his past - with some careful editing to remove any mention of Buffy, Slayers, and Watchers from it - would give him an opening into some substantial discussion about hers, either in Sunnydale or before then. Getting her to talk about either would be a good thing.
He took a risk and patted the spot next to him. He was hoping she'd sit or lay next to him so they could talk, rather than her straddling his legs like that. He was still in no condition for anything that involved straddling his lower regions. But if she wanted to stay there and talk, he could deal with that. There were worse things in the world than a hot girl straddling your legs.
Did he sleep? "For a little while." Okay, so it was a little white lie, but whatever. He'd been kind of half-asleep when Doyle's post had shocked him back into full wakefulness. It counted, right? Right.