"Oh, and the name is Fr-"he started, before his hair and face were covered in ale. Spluttering and wiping his eyes,"I suppose 'short woman' would have been a better way to put it, and I see she's not the only one with a patience like that." Rather than make it worse, recover dude, come on, he decided to try and maintain any dignity he still had. "But I can take a 'no' when I hear one, you'll have peace from me."
Wringing out his hair, he stood up, downed his mead and turned to the bar."Barman, the lady appears to have spilled her drink. I am sure she'd appreciate another."As he walked out the bar, Frost turned around and loudly stated to the room"Oh, and to my little Angels: feel free to let jokes about tonight affect your patrol and 'shore-side' duties! I'll have fun with anyone turning up hungover for briefing tomorrow."With that, he retired to his quarters for the night. Darned spooks...
A couple of minutes after Frost left, in came a cheery-looking young woman that would be recognised by many as Susan Anders, the Commander's niece. Ordering a Cider, she noticed a man of almost the same age as her on the other side of the bar. "Westie... Is that you?!"
