Leonard would argue that he's rarely ever felt better for adding alcohol to any situation, but rather it's just sort of a ritual he's fallen into more than anything else. He's glad Mick doesn't put up any kind of resistance, though, and he curls a little closer to the older man.

"He sucks at poker," he says with a half-lived smirk. "Kicked my ass in gin, though." He thinks back about various missions Lincoln had been on with him, the number of times he'd fallen into step with Leonard in a way that was almost familiar enough to ache. "He was a good guy." A beat. "I mean, not Flash kind of good, but...he cared a lot, but selectively."