[ He pretends to swoon but does it strategically, flopping in front of her as he lays down the grub; the pizza is a steaming meaty affair and Molly has a big bag of chips with various dips, six beers clanking as Fjord lays them on the bed in a neat line, because they aren't animals. ]

You smell so good, you should wear my clothes more often. Oh, did you need five dips? I got them anyway. What have you been up to today?

[ He crawls his chatty way to lay his head in Molly's lap, munching on a slice of pizza. ]