[A shrug, and he sits up a little straighter on the couch, suddenly kind of uncomfortable that he's been basically sprawling on the small couch with his feet propped on the coffee table in front of it. ] Busiest time here is the morning. By this hour the guys who aren't working go to their place or off to do their thing.

[He does manage to bite the thought about how her voice seemed to fill the quiet easy enough. Bite it down by the scruff and into submission. But her walk across the room makes him take in the scent of the room in the expectation of capturing her scent before he can even think of stopping it.

He does a double-take at her back, then shakes his head when he finds his gaze lingering on the narrowing of her waist, at the pale neck exposed by those dark sideswept strands.

Must be one of those secondary effects of the drug he heard about.

When she turns he's also taking his cup to his lips but stops at the question. He gives his own glass a thoughtful look.] To uh,

[messed up hunting grounds,
weird introductions,
breaking the ice with a flamethrower,
the possibilities are endless there.

He tilts his glass towards her and a bit to the side, where a cushy chair is.]

Peace of mind?