"Who said anything about a bet?" Molotov sighs, then moves down the sofa to abruptly use Spike as a pillow, leaning her head against his shoulder. Oh, hi, Mr. Spiegel. Did you not know that contented drunk Molotov is actually super affectionate and touchy? Well now you do.

She just seems tired more than anything else though, and closes her eye again. "Do you even want to go home? I do not think I do."