-Morgan, Ingid, no good deed...yadda,yadda,yadda.-<br/><br/>Morgan moved slowly, keeping in mind that the woman beside him just drank a high school basketball team under the table before drawing on their collective faces with multi-coloured sharpies. Ok, maybe she didn't o that, but she would if she had the choice. Morgan just knew she would, he then promised himself never to pass out around Ingrid again.<br/><br/>These thoughts and a few others passed through his mind as he slowly walked her over to the bar stool, helping her to sit on it without doing her impression of humpty dumpty. He turned the faucet on and let the water heat, not making it scalding, but making it hot. he took a towel and set it on the lip of the sink's basin.<br/><br/>"Lean back slowly, I will help, and I will rinse the smell of Daniels out of your hair Ingrid. it always lingers around the head. The sooner you get rid of the scent, the sooner you will be able to not worry about your stomach wanting a cartwheel when you sweat. The chair in front is for your feet so you are not stretched out like on a Saltire or anything."<br/><br/>Ayep, his voice was serious, strong but soft as he spoke, he seriously was going to do this if she let him. He was an experienced drunk, and knew the secrets, having written a few of them himself, of the rapid sobering skills. Not a chance in hell than she would pass a breathalyzer right now, but she would be able to function without wanting to hurl. If she felt better he would let her use his shower, if she didnt, well, she would start sweating the bourbon out soon enough and then that shower would appear to be sent by the gods themselves.