FDR

It wasn't FDR's most brilliant idea. Tuck was acting odd, that was for damn sure, but FDR wasn't doing much better. Hailing a cab for them outside, he barely spared a glance for his partner. They were both drunk and sliding into the cab, he pushed himself against the door to keep himself from leaning into the other man.

He was silent for the ride as they pulled up to his place and the doorman came out to open the door.

"Evening, Mr Foster." He nodded at them both. "And you as well, Tuck. A good evening," he asked, being bright and genial

"Evening Nicholas. How as the game?"

He shrugged, shaking his head. "You win some and you lose some."