He gulped and looked at Mea.  "Chew... it never occurred to me..." and laughed at his own joke.  He ate big, he drank a lot, smoked a lot, and did lots of other things in excess.  Looking back, he felt like he was always pushing the envelope, trying to cheat death at every turn.  Maybe, maybe, he should stop smoking.  It is a start.  Maybe I should drink less... he thought.  He thought about all of his years under fire and wondered if maybe, this time the bullet would bite him.  It was the same thought he had before every mission, but still, he always, most always, walked back after.  He picked up one more slice and bit it daintily, his pinky finger pointing straight out as he did so, napkin in his other hand and dabbed at his lower lip after.<br/><br/>"Gerad, you not eating?" and slyly started to pull at his plate, watching for the reaction, his mischievous twinkle returning to his eyes.