Leonard, darling...

As much as I adore your ship, tonight I'd much rather sleep in my own bed and I'd prefer it even more were you there to share it with me.

Okay, seriously, I figured I wait until after the full moon, because that's a lot to deal with. And I think this is a long enough time.

Are we going to talk about what happened two weeks ago?

Because, fuck Remus, I need to know what that was about.

The whole addiction to lube thing must be genetic.

I asked Doctor Grey already, but I want to hear a general consensus: how accurate are the fictionalised tales of our lives? I am to believe the "ending" is the predestined future?

I knew he was going to return. But why did he have to take thirty bloody years to come back? Late homecoming, Count.

(ooc; McCoy mun, I'll set the log backdated for the day of arrival when I come back home tonight. It's that OK?)