afternoon tea

[walk_ins]

Janet's apartment is a studio, but it takes the casual visitor a moment to realize that; she's set up almost-ceiling-high bookshelves to create the semblance of internal walls, partitioning off a closet-sized "bedroom" from the only slightly larger "living room" next to the kitchen. They've had full meetings here before, but not often; the

Comments

[walk_ins]

"Oh, damn." He hang up his coat. "I wanted to talk to him."

Not that he doesn't want to talk to them, but.

[walk_ins]

"Hey, Greg," Tara waves from the couch. "Any particular reason?"

Janet's already moving to the kitchen (barely deserving of the name; "kitchenette" might be closer) to get Greg his own mug. There's an electric kettle on the trunk that serves as a coffee table, along with an assortment of tea, instant coffee and instant cocoa.

(It's fucking cold out.)

[walk_ins]

"Hey." He sits. "He talked to Michael last, I think. He just mentioned it in passing, but I wondered if he had any kind of---bead on him."

He's worried.

[walk_ins]

"Like his state of mind?" Janet hands Greg a mug, and carefully lowers herself into the beanbag chair opposite the couch. "I don't know. I think ..."

Quiet, and sad: "I think he's just tired."