He likes the look that she gives him, and he polishes off the drink that's sitting on the table between his hands.

"Yeah, too noisy," he agrees, pushing himself up to follow her. He doesn't give a fuck about what people say, what they think -- she and her bohemoth of a husband are open, who cares? Chuck's open, he's flexible, he's always had an open appreciation of both men and women and both had shared his bed on more than one occasion.

Just -- less so than others. After Pitfall, things were different and he'd distanced himself from everyone, let himself drift further and further away because what was living now that he had no purpose? Before, he hadn't had a lot of time to dabble -- too much going on, too much to perfect, too much training, though yeah, he'd engaged. Whatever. Meant nothing to anyone involved at the time. He followed after her, hands jamming into his pockets. People looked, but assumed little. It was just two pilots, Sasha and Chuck, heading back after a drink.