"Sam," Matthew greeted him with a wide smile.  "Thank you so much for coming."

"Don't thank me just yet.  You have not heard my toast.", he said using honest
humor for probably the first time that day.  Even so, it was a bit of a struggle
to get out...

Matt couldn't help the honest laugh.  "I've been forewarned," he said.

"Now, I have something for you.  It is a gift.  I bought it ages ago on my only
tour through Scotland back when I was a young lad.  I have saved it for a
special occassion, but never found one quite special enough to partake.  So, ...
", he said reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out the bottle of 15 year
old single malt scotch, and handing it to Matthew.

"... take this bottle as a token of my friendship.", he continued.

Matt noticed that the vintage was well over 150 years ago, and it came from a
well know prevayer of the finest of whiskeys.

After giving the Doctor a chance to look it over, Samuel continued, "I figured
that you would have a better chance of finding a proper special occassion than
I.  Take it, and share it with your loved one."
 
"Sam," Matt said quietly, truly honored, nearly beyond words.  "This is quite a gift," he said.  He would save it, he decided, for the day that Samuel resigned from Starfleet, so they and a hand--picked collection of his closest friends could celebrate and toast one of Starfleet's better administrations.  "A token that is truly worthy of the friendship."  He carefully laid the bottle on a table and then did something a bit uncharacteristic for either of them: he gave Samuel a warm, embracing hug.  "And thank you," he said quietly, "for honoring us with your presence here today."

 
--
Randy
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