York-that-will-be would've swung this differently. Hell, Taylor-that-was would've done it different a year ago, three years ago. But this is Sergeant Murray and even when he's on leave that weight and posture and hard learned reserve doesn't just flitter away. It does ease somewhat. Enough for him to allow this moment of human connection- listing forward ever so slightly, eyes flicking from this guy's eyes to his lips and-

Wait, shit. He can't remember his name. God he swears he had game at some point in his life that just got lost to...well. A list of names in the back of his head, a list Ramierz has memorized from their time in Basic.

"As long as your name isn't Brandon or Malcolm? Yeah. I'm a sucker for blue eyes, broad shoulders, and good manners." He doesn't close the distance just yet. Can't. Because this guy's got a name and he, for the life of him, can't remember.