Michael almost chokes on his beer - almost. He usually tends to expect that sort of thing out of Sam... but she was a bit of spitfire. He could work with that.

"Sorry, Sam... I hate to disappoint but I think just trying to sleep in my bed tonight will be closer to touching people than I want to get right now." He finishes his second beer and sets it on the table, gesturing at... something... for another. "You tend to leave behind a reek of Old Spice and scotch that takes a couple turns in the wash to get out."