York. [ He corrects, offhand and easy. ] Special Agent New York of a very secret and clandestine little operation meant to save the goddamn galaxy. I told you that, right?

[ They seem familiar, shades of them, but he can't quite place it beyond attractive and present and staring. If he thinks on it long enough it'll click but he's got the beginnings of a buzz going and reason enough to not want to think too hard. It's leave. Leave isn't for thinking, it's for drinking. ]

But you- [ Propped on one elbow, smile curved and sweetly sharp. His eyes drag over both of them in all of a moment, finishing on Sam's eyes as he licks his lips, biting the bottom. ] Can call me whatever you want.