"Commander, you're drunk."

He looked up at her with hazy eyes, a clumsy giggle hitching at the edges of his mouth.

"I'm perfectly sober, dear Inquisitor," he said, even as his words slurred into each other. He raised his glass in a friendly invitation, but she took it from his tactless fingers and set it down on his desk gently.

"It's time for bed," she announced. The bridge of his nose crinkled as he pouted. "No. I'm not falling for that. Come on."

He was taller than her, and heavy, but she lugged him up from his chair, wreathing his arm around her shoulders.

"Do I really have to drag you to bed or do your legs still work?" she grumbled.

He gave her a radiant smile, the kind of stupidly joyful grin that only alcohol could elicit. "My dear lady, if I had known you were that desperate for my affections…"

She kicked him lightly in the shin. "We're dating, you dumbass. You fucked me on your desk."

"Yeah," he sighed happily, tilting his head to nuzzle into her neck.

"Your breath smells awful."

"Mm."

She rolled her eyes. "What an inspiring leader."

With some difficulty, she hauled him over to bed and dumped him on the mattress, except that he had stubbornly clung to her sleeve and she ended up falling face-first on top of him. His arms came up to encircle her in an embrace that was a little too tight, but endearing in its own way, especially when he pressed his nose into the crown of her head.

"Love you," he mumbled into her hair.

"You're a dork," she informed him, voice muffled against him, and she could feel his chest rumble when he laughed. He kissed her forehead sloppily.

"I'm the definition of smooth," he replied seriously.

She wriggled out of his grip and sat upright, balancing on his waist. "Not with that stubble, you're not." She cupped his cheeks, which scratched her palms lightly in the process as evidence of her claim, and kissed his lips properly. He hummed low in his throat with satisfaction, hands coming up to rest on her hips.

When she pulled away, he wrapped around her again, one arm remaining by her lower back and the other up by her shoulder blades. "Don't go," he pleaded quietly.

She probably could have escaped if she really wanted to, but she gave up and submitted herself to his hold, burying her face in between his collarbones. When she fell asleep, she dreamed of a mighty lion standing guard over her.