"Ssso, what'sh your bird?"
Before Roman could even open his mouth to speak, he could see Willow's eyes droop, then collapse along with the rest of her body. She sat slumped over the table with the shot glass still resting between her fingers.
"Well, she didn't last very long," said Roman as he carefully removed the shot glass from her loose hand. He stood and walked over to her side of the table and picked her up, cradling her with one arm under her knees and the other supporting her neck and shoulders. "Alright, time to find your bunk, lady."
"'Scuse me, dashing Mexican with a hot Irish pilot comin' through," Roman called out as he walked passed the rest of the room's occupants with Willow in his arms. Roman left the Officer's Club and began scouting through the halls, trying to find a sign as to what room she made her own. He cursed the fact that there were so many halls full of rooms and was beginning to wonder if she even had claimed a room for herself. Suddenly, Roman froze in place as he felt a sudden stirring from Willow; she turned her head and now had it nestled against Roman's shoulder and seemed to be trying to turn herself over in her sleep while mumbling something unintelligible. When she became still once more, Roman sighed a great sigh of relief and resumed his search. As Roman made his way down one corridor in particular, a man passed by and stopped to give him a quizzical look.
"Don't look at me like that, she's just drunk," Roman said assuringly. The man only shook his head in disapproval and walked on down the hall. "Wait, no, it's not what it sounds...ah, geez."
Only a few minutes after that awkward run-in, he peered into on room and saw that a service bag had been dropped right inside the doorway. Taking closer look, Roman saw the all-caps label "W. O'DONNELL" stitched onto in.
"Double-u, Willow...O'Donnell?" Roman asked the unconscious woman, looking down at her slack, upturned face. "Yeah, I'd say you look like an O'Donnell."
Roman walked her over to the cot and gently set her down, being careful so as not to wake her up. He then went over to the room's desk and rummaged for a pen and paper, with which he wrote a note to leave her in the morning. He folded the paper so it could stand on its own, then set it on the end table with the text facing the cot. When Willow would wake, she'd see the note which read,
"You should consider yourself lucky you blacked out with a gentleman such as myself. Hope to continue our conversation soon, perhaps with much less jet lag and Everclear. You can find me in Bunk 07, Corridor 12 if you wanna drop by.
-R."
Roman flicked on the dim desklamp on the end table before walking to the door and turning off the overheads, then stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind him. He whistled cheerily as he headed down the corridor from whence he came, making his way to his own room. Now, time to get myself some shuteye...