Colin chuckled. "As it should be, Commander. I certainly hope no one is averse to Gaelic cuisine. My cousin owns this quaint little pub in Dublin. I can guarantee us great service and even greater food. Shall we say 1900? Strictly casual dress, and first names only. No ranks tonight, Commander."
"Well, sir, if that would happen to include a good corned beef, then you may have found a new best friend. If not, who cares it's not replicated."
"My friend, it is corned beef so tender, you'd slap your mama for it."
"I'll let the others know. We'll see you at the info center at 1900."
***
At 1845, Colin was there, joined shortly thereafter by Dr. Father Finnegan.
Donovan arrived just a moment or two later. He was not wearing his uniform, but rather some tan slacks and a black pullover shirt. Not tee shirt, but a colared shirt that came to a V at the neck, sans buttons.
"Cap'n, Father. Good evening. I checked the weather in Dublin for tonight. It's gonna be a bit chilly, a partly cloudy and mid 50's (Deg. F). Good for the appeite."
{response}
"Pick battles big enough to matter, yet small enough to win." --Jonathan Kozol
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