"Oh no, if you're not sleeping either, I'm sending her after you," Thomas protested half-jokingly. "I've gotten the Alice Cullen treatment for two weeks, it's time someone else enjoyed the privilege."

He raised a surprised eyebrow at the offer of whiskey, but accepted without question, true to his word filling the mug the rest of the way with alcohol. Settling back in his chair, Thomas brought the cup to his mouth and sipped carefully. "If you really want to stay awake, you should send one of the crew out for a few shots of espresso," he said mildly.

Sipping his coffee, and speaking as if they were talking about the morning paper, Thomas continued, "If you start raving, should I just clock you in the back of the head and toss you into a closet to sleep it off?" There was no question in there about why it would happen, or whether he'd tell Lacci, just an offer of assistance if it did. The Desert Eagle that had returned to the small of Thomas' back, and the memory of Lacci's own flirtation with coffee, were more than enough qualifications for such, as far as Thomas was concerned.