Felicity rolls off Pax and flops onto the ground next to her. For a moment she just lies there, catching her breath and riding out the last wave of giggles. "Oh, shit's nuts right now," Felicity confirms, looking over. She takes Pax's hand -- big news is easiest received that way, she thinks. It's an impossible task to distill tonight's events into a sentence or two, but Felicity'll try.

"Pres is a vape-fiend," Felicity says solemnly, a tinge of pride in her voice. "And we're all under attack. Tonight could be it." She squeezes Pax's hand, for her own benefit as much as for her friend's.