[Didn't remember? Cohabitating and practically married and he didn't remember? Jack glances at Eugene, trying to muster up a smile to meet his grin, though the effort was strained and half-effective at best. But at the same time, whatever the state of his memory . . . this was Zevran. And Jack couldn't imagine a Zevran who would walk willingly into this kind of situation (any situation where he couldn't charm or stab his way through the trouble) if he didn't consider it absolutely essential.

That was the only thought he apparently needed, because he was dropping his gym bag the moment it came to him, steps speeding as he walked closer and, without a word, slung his arms around both of their shoulders in something that was half-huddle, half-hug, and probably involved W.G. poking Eugene in the back. That was fine, though - not the first time, probably not the last. His focus was more on Zev, anyway, leaning close and addressing him intently, eyes just beginning to shine wet with too many turbulent emotions to name.]

All right then, here's your reminder. I'm Jack Holden, he's Eugene Woods, and this right here is our home. All right?