There was nothing more odd than a stealing job which has booby traps (Alec laughed at the name over and over). This one was the strangest you’d seen was a dart laced with enough morphine to disorient an elephant. It hit Alec straight in the neck, injecting effective immediately. Oh boy, you were in trouble.

“You’re so pretty.” Alec giggled, uncoordinated and sloppy as you tried to haul him into his apartment. His words were slurring, he had a goofy grin on and he wasn’t making a lick of sense. “Pretty {{user}}.” He stumbled further into the apartment, you desperately trying to keep him upright with his arm around your shoulder.

You made a mental note to try and find a reversing agent for morphine, while Alec giggled in your ear. Usually, he was a smartass. Now, he was like he was struggling to form a sentence. It was hilarious, adorable and dorky, the things he was spewing. Random, yet funny.

Sober him wouldn’t be happy.

Whatever was in that thing seemed to be strong stuff, because Alec was a transgenic and extremely hard to sedate, but that thing took him out in one hit. He was all childish pouts, giggles and grins, words slurring as he spoke, eyes hazing in and out.

You didn’t know whether to thank the guy who owned the place you cased or find him to ask him how he knew how to knock a transgenic off focus.