( Normally, Ian would focus on reciprocity. Granted, after the conversations they've had he'd normally be a little more open in general, but he'd also be more considerate about where Lance is at emotionally. Now, it's like there's too much going on. A decent moonshine buzz, part of his mind focused on navigating the defense to Lance's offense, the rest of it already thinking about projects to swallow up his whole fucking brain.

He'll feel like an asshole for it later, but it's not even a thought now. )

It's not a matter of-- should, it's just...

( It's a matter of you never know what small thing could save someone's life later. That one clutch thing that could have been that thing. An extra gun. A little more shelter. A thicker wall. Leaving a Volkeswagon covered in cans and glass bottles and anything else that makes noise parked about a hundred and fifty yards away from where you're sleeping at night so you get a warning alarm.

Another shake of his head. )

I just need something to do. I'll be fine, man, you can make sure I'm not sleeping on my desk after Quidditch practice and stuff. Don't worry about it, seriously.