<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/thumb/9/93/Sebastian_Bryce.jpg/395px-Sebastian_Bryce.jpg)</div><strong>Bryce</strong><br/><br/>It's, honestly, not the kind of command that Bryce would have accepted,-- Captain or no,- in normal circumstances. He was a man of learning and refinement, he didn't perform for the personal amusement of his employer and frankly he'd never stand for this kind of treatment under normal circumstances. I mean,<em>really</em>, sharing a seat with the Doctor? Just what did the Sultana think she was getting up to??!<br/><br/>Then, Dyn popped in and the announcement was made that breakfast was served, and Morag sat herself down and all but taunted him to do exactly as he'd been bidden.<br/><br/>"...you're a bloody crazy woman,-- mad as a hatter!" Bryce said, it not being entirely clear just who he was talking about. There was a certain cavalier attitude of 'oh what the hell' as the Chief sat himself down, ever so carefully, on the Doctor's lap and tried to make sure he was settled into as comfortable a position as possible. A slight flush of pink coming to his cheeks. "..off yer rocker... Ah, you'd best not think I'm doing this just because you're ordering it, 'Sultana'. That's not the way this works! If the good Doctor is willing, though, well,..."<br/><br/>He just shrugs, expressively.<br/><br/>Really, he should be more careful,-- and fraternizing like this was surely a horrible idea,- but honestly?<br/><br/>He'd never admit such, but, it was more than a little fun in the end.<br/><br/>"..and, I don't, though it'd only be fair since I imagine I'll be feeding you. Go on then, ye bloody harpy,-- I know you've wanted a taste now for long enough,- n' NO, it don't bloody taste like OIL."<br/><br/>Not that Bryce really knows what his blood does taste like? Coppery, he'd imagine? Part of him hopes he'll taste good.