"If someone is shooting at me, I'm going to try and avoid it because it's instant death. But all this stuff? I'm not really scared of cancers much. If anything is going to kill me, it's the drugs or the booze. Maybe the strippers. I have to say, last time I was in the Vegas Station of Delta Twelve, one of them pulled a knife on me," He had swiftly disarmed her and they'd had some amazing hate sex but the point stood. He was likely to die as a hedonist. And he was pretty happy about that. Death was something he didn't want, not really, but he'd be proud to go out doing what he loved.

"I'm not taking it with much love," John admitted, the smallest shrug as he looked over at Jack, raising his own had to start decontaminating the lower parts. Well, he doubted Jack was in the mood to do them and do them well. "But it's not too bad. Knowing you're not hated is probably the best you can get from old friends. That and the occasional fuck for old times sake."