It took a few minutes for his laugh to die down, and around him he heard a few grumbles. He was used to it--he laughed loud and open and deep. Who in Halo had the right to be as happy as his laugh sounded...at least, that was the general feeling on the group of grumpy older men that huddled in the corner and told most others to fuck off and leave them alone. Leaning forward on the counter and finishing off his drink, Noah leaned in close to Weaver.
"Now, now," he started, blue eyes softening up. He tilted his chin some so he had to look up at her through thick eyebrows, "That's not very fair." He smiled at her still, a crooked and cheeky grin that seemed too comfortable on his lips. He leaned in closer yet, still looking up at her with ice eyes that tinged playfully. "I need decent booze to keep me compliant. Otherwise I'm moving in and totally eating up your storehouse."
