He forced himself to drain the glass. He felt himself relaxing.
"Ugh," he said.
The F.B.I. man ordered another round. Julia declined. Walt accepted.
Walt said, "I feel warm."
The F.B.I. man kept glancing out the window of the plane, up at the stars. Clouds hung below; moonlight played over them.
Walt found that he was very ... fond ... of Julia. If only, he thought, she weren't so damned superior!
The alcohol filtered through his body. The compartment of the airplane danced not unpleasantly. He longed to feel Julia very close to him. He wanted to reach out and touch her uncovered skin.
Faintly, far off, barely heard was the sound of the others talking.
He grew heavy and sleepy. He closed his eyes.
He awakened once, and Julia was not beside him. He moved his tongue. It felt fuzzy and thick.