There it is. The sweet, sweet taste of fucking victory being handed to him on a silver fucking platter, now scrambling to the side like he got lit on fire. Alex kneels beside Neil, his face red as a Nuka-Cola bottle cap, and the Lone Wanderer, now free, props his elbows up to watch this beautiful display.

The grin shifts to something softer, something private. Damn if Neil isn't enjoying all of this.

"Hmm?" He blinks slowly. "No come back? No come on? I'm surprised, Alex Seattle Geer. You usually don't shy away from an opportunity."

To make use of his weird voodoo powers.