New York City, Wednesday Evening Fandom Time

[not_a_parakeet]

Warren frowned as he made his way into the condo that he used to call home. It was exactly how he remembered it- a little too clean, a little too unlived in. Even his room hadn't changed since the last time he'd been here with Karla. There were only a few things missing, which Karla had vanished and taken with her before they'd gone tearing off to

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[glacial_queen]

Warren had been gone for almost two weeks before she'd heard from him again--though, to him, it had probably been just a few hours.

Hell's fire and Mother Night, she missed him. And she still had another fortnight or so to go before he'd be back. Thank the Darkness he only had to sign a few papers. Maybe he could be home within ten days, if he signed the papers right after breakfast.

Her phone beeped. Ooh! A text! From Warren!

...About a wall.

Oookay. Well, she'd remembered hearing about the illegal immigrant debate from high school. Apparently Warren's world had kicked that into overdrive? It probably involved Mexican mutants.

Everything that seemed morally wrong seemed to center around mutants in Warren's world.

Ugh. Your dad give you details about the papers yet?

[not_a_parakeet]

Warren, meanwhile, got Karla's text practically within seconds of sending his own. He smiled faintly at that, though it was a wry one. He wouldn't have to wait for her replies, really. She, on the other hand, would probably be sitting around for a good twenty minutes in the time it took for him to tap out a reply.

And only because he wasn't currently distracted.

Some. I'll be staying here in the building and the paperwork will come to me. We'll be signing down in the meeting room - you remember the one - as early tomorrow morning as possible. Dad needs to call a meeting after that, of W.Labs execs. Should take a few hours from there. Red tape, all of it.

[glacial_queen]

Mmm. Damn right I remember. Do you think he replaced the table? Karla asked with a naughty grin. Has he said anything to you about it?

That poor table.

[not_a_parakeet]

He looked like he'd swallowed something weird when we walked by it earlier, didn't mention anything though. I'll let you know the state of the table tomorrow. It'll help pass the time around the legal proceedings MUCH faster.

Well, for him, anyway. Maybe for her too, if she kept re-reading texts?