When she didn't instantly respond, he felt a bit downhearted, but then Drake was at him and he was leaning down and ruffing up the scruff of the beast's neck and talking in 'dog'.

"You like me, doncha, big guy? Huh? 'Course you do," he crooned pressing his forehead to Drake's and getting a faceful of tongue for his efforts. With much spitting and face wiping he was back up, grabbing Ath by the hand and manhandling her to the couch before he was moving into the kitchen and opening the fridge door as he talked.

"It's amazing Ath! I'm out of the hospital, my wounds are entirely - well mostly," he made a vague face, "healed, I've got a new flatmate and then this!" He popped the top off a pair of London Pride. "And then the phonecall! The phonecall that tops everything off." He pushed a bottle at her as he flopped onto the couch next to her. "Except, I want the cherry," he added looking at her. "I want this day to be beyond perfect. I want it to be a day that goes down in the annuls of history as the most completely perfect day ever. And you are that cherry."

He didn't give explanation for the rest of it as he clinked his bottle with hers, gave a cheers and tilted the bottle back.