police inquiry

who: brett, eris and jakob
where: brett and eris' offices
when: mid day

He wasn't impressed, that was for sure. Or... not too impressed, though Jakob had to admit that for two people he had personally fucked with? Brett Trent and Eris Stockard were doing quite well for themselves. They even had their own building, complete with a well-kept lobby, security, and an elevator beyond said security. Not some jittery, shaking old contraption either. Observing the little details of it kept a wry smile on Jakob's face as he rode up in the elevator, silently lamenting his promise to not meddle in Eris' affairs any more. Because as much as he hated reusing a prank or trick? He loved watching people fall.

And he'd started wanting to see both her and Brett do so from the moment he'd stepped inside and been told to state his business. A flash of the badge hadn't been enough, either, which was both good and bad. They knew what to look for, at least enough to keep a true hack from pretending to be a cop long enough to get upstairs. It could've been a wonderful challenge to undermine this place, but it was off-limits to him. For now, Jakob promised himself, pushing his smirk away and putting on an expression of sheer business as the doors chimed and opened.

Eris was in the office, pretending she wasn't still bothered by the fact that she and Brett had utterly avoided actually talking things over properly. But it was unsettling. She was distinctly unsettled. It meant that she was mildly distracted, as she tried to come up with different ideas for floor plans for the imaginary club they had talked about, assuming that actually happened and wasn't just the musings of people avoiding their personal lives. She couldn't be positive it wasn't. Either way, when the elevator dinged, she felt slightly better prepared for dealing with Jakob than she would have been if he hadn't been announced first. Which really, was helpful. Having to give approval for people coming up gave just enough time to put things away and glance at herself in the mirror to ensure herself that she looked professional--which she did. So, there was that.

What she didn't do was get up and go into the hall. The office door was open, and the apartment door was locked, so Jakob could certainly find his way to the office. She was making small notes in her ledger, though they were pretty much bullshit notes. She just wanted to look like she was working on something business related.

Locked doors were always a curiosity, and with a few minutes? Jakob could've scratched the proverbial itch he gained when he found a door that was definitely not going to open for him. Who knew what lay beyond, or just how fast Eris was trying to rebuild her former sway in the city? Jakob would've expected something surprising, for sure; he'd seen the papers after all, and knew that she and Brett had finally played the cards he'd given them. They were creating chaos, enough to cover their own plans, or that's what Jakob himself would've been doing in their shoes.

He wanted to make some of his own and test their reflexes, so to speak, but even lingering here and thinking about the temptation was taking up time. So after a handful of seconds, really just long enough for the elevator doors to close behind him, Jakob opened the office door further and stepped in with a file tucked under his arm, one hand opening his coat to flash the badge on his hip. "Ms. Stockard," he greeted formally, giving a slight nod.

Eris glanced up like she'd been far too busy to actually sit there and wait for him to arrive, even if it was only going to be a minute or two. "Detective." she greeted. "What brings you here?" she asked politely, setting her pen and ledger aside, shutting it, of course. She laced her hands together and appeared to give him her full attention, though she was sure to give off the air that he was being granted the attention rather than he got it by default.

There was a game here, of course; there always was with Eris, and Jakob would be a fool to think that anything but a real death would change that. But with his promise in place? He didn't have much drive to really play it, nothing beyond the little airs of propriety they were both putting on as if they'd only ever had these curt meetings. "I'll need to speak with your associate, Mr. Trent regarding an active case, if he's available," Jakob answered with a lazy glance around the office, "I would've called ahead first, but your new location made it somewhat difficult. Luckily, I always take a short lunch, so I had the time free."

"Is he a suspect?" she asked, tone light. She drummed her fingernails against the top of her desk once, not in a show of impatience, it was more thoughtful in nature. Beyond that, she wasn't giving anything else away, wanting him only to take from her what she wanted him to have. It was odd, he always brought out this behavior in her. Universally, when she got around him, she reverted to form almost completely.

"I'm not at liberty to say, ma'am," Jakob answered with an ease that spoke of using those words hundreds, maybe thousands of times before this moment. He gave the lightest of smiles afterwards, shoulders hunching in a nearly imperceptible shrug. "Though I would say that my coming here alone, as opposed to with a set of patrolmen should answer the question for you." He could've done that if he'd wanted to give her a scare, probably could've even tried to bring Brett down to the station, but he knew the man somewhat. At least, he'd known Brett Trent in his younger days, and he doubted the man had changed much despite the world changing around him. Bravado would only get him stubbornness in return, and as amusing as Brett's temper was? This case needed names so that it would stop needling Jakob with its' unknowns. "Is he available? Or should I return later?"

She smiled, though it wasn't all that pleasant of one. It had more of a cold nature to it, though didn't venture into 'icy' yet. "You'd only do that if you had grounds to arrest him. Being a suspect doesn't necessarily mean you have anything solid enough to make an arrest, officer," she said, being sure to call him by that term as opposed to 'detective' again "but you know that." she said. After all, she'd spent a lot of time dodging the law in her day, she did know a lot of the technicals. "And possibly. I'll have to see." She said. "You can have a seat." she told him, demeanor back to professionally pleasant. Then she turned to the phone, to pick it up and dial through to the apartment.

Brett had managed to get back to sleep again, a sleep that was only broken by the insistent ringing of the telephone. He grunted and grumbled, but when it wasn't answered straight away, pulled himself up out of bed and picked it up. "Yeah?" he asked, not up to anything more formal, his voice sounding croaky with sleep and the remnants of the hangover that still hadn't passed.

"Greetings, Mr. Trent." Eris said in a purely professional tone. "There's a detective Hollis here to see you, regarding an active case." she said. "Are you going to be available to see him? Or shall I send him on his way?" she asked, smiling sweetly at Jakob while she did so.

"Oh fuck - what the fuck does he want?" Brett growled, sounding like a bear with a sore head - though he kept the volume of his speech low enough that it would be for Eris' ears only. "'Active case? What the fuck does he mean by that anyway? Or is he just causing trouble and he thinks he can fucking arrest me and throw away the key?" After all, just because Jakob knew for a fact now that Brett hadn't killed Captain Hardy, didn't mean he could have evidence pinning him to any other number of crimes. Especially now that Brett had chosen not to clear his name.

"I'm afraid I don't know, I've been told quite firmly that it's none of my business, though I don't believe he's here to arrest you. I did inquire over that very thing." Eris said, thinking really, of all days Jakob could show his face, today wasn't the best one. "He mentioned being here on his lunch, so I'm sure it's less official than charges. Are you available?" she asked, repeating the first question.

"You know, as much as I'd like to kick him out on his ear out of the principle of the thing, I want to know what the hell he's got on me. Tell him I'll be five minutes," Brett told her, figuring he'd need that long to run a reasonable chance of not looking quite as bad as he felt right now.

"Of course, Mr. Trent." she said, then hung up the phone. Looking to Jakob, she smiled again. "He'll be with you shortly." she told him. "You can of course have the space when he arrives." she added, tone sugary sweet and oh so accommodating. Then she went back to looking at her ledger, making a few more notes that meant absolutely nothing.

Jakob hadn't taken a seat when one was offered, instead lingering where he stood with a patient expression in place and his eyes aimed out a window. The whole situation with Brett and Eris was still a curious one for him, to be sure. This wasn't just business, couldn't be limited so, but as of now all he had to enforce that idea was a hunch. Both of them had always played a certain level of detachment regarding the other, and with Eris he could almost believe it? But not with Brett. Still, making accusations or guesses wouldn't do him any favors, so for now he would simply bide his time. "That won't be necessary, I assure you," he said eventually, "I would simply prefer your associate's presence before touching on the reason for my visit. If you wish to linger once he's arrived? Well, it is your building."

Eris glanced up. "Then why exactly the secrecy in the first place as to the reason for your visit?" she asked. "Weren't you the one who told me you 'weren't at liberty to say'?" Not that she imagined that Brett wouldn't tell her the second Jakob was out the door, and she imagined Jakob was aware of that. Or at least would suspect.

He shook his head with a soft exhale that was nearly a laugh. "If you misunderstood me, my apologies," Jakob prefaced, "But all I'd said was that I couldn't comment on whether he was a suspect or not. And until I speak to him, that holds true. The case itself is already public knowledge, though I believe the public has already forgotten." With Jakob it was always about which question was asked, really, a trait he figured held true with Eris as well. And even if he had to abstain from the real games, the ones he loved? Little ones could fill the time until Brett arrived.

"Please. That was exactly how I was meant to take it. You just wanted to deny me and make me wait." Eris said, tone still sugary. "You amuse yourself far too much." she told him, looking back to her notes. She was also considering still leaving, just so he wouldn't win on his little game. So it wouldn't seem like it was the slightest bit of important to her what he was there for or what business he had with Brett. That and her presense was 'granted' so since he'd done it the way he had, she was much more inclined to leave.

Sighing in mock-regret, Jakob shifted from foot to foot as he checked the file under his arm to make sure everything was still in order. "Perhaps someone in the city will rise to the task some day and relieve me of the burden, then," he suggested with a hint of a smile aimed down at his folder. It was highly unlikely, sad as that fact was: too few people rose to what Jakob considered his own level, and one of the only ones to do so? Was sitting behind a desk in front of him, and her mood wasn't ever likely to favor him. Maybe they were too similar to click, maybe it was the simple fact that Jakob would never really trust her, or Eris him.

"Wouldn't that be just how you wanted it? The city, rising up to entertain you since you clearly see them as only existing as various chess pieces on your board." she said, sounding bored. "Perhaps you should take out an ad in the Echo." Then she paused as if in thought, before she looked up. "Oh that's right. According to them, the state of the police in this town is in a shambles. Nasty business, that. What with the commissioner shooting himself and all. Isn't that enough to keep your attention of late? Or did you just miss Mr. Trent so much you needed to come down to see him yourself?"

His smile dimmed as his eyes lit up, settling on Eris as Jakob looked up at her. "He shot himself, Stockard, and I am a homicide detective," Jakob pointed out neatly, "And whatever your disposition is regarding me? A great deal of the time I am a boon to this city. I lock away murderers, I take the fragments of lives like yours or your pet's and piece them together to present a picture that serves justice. I am here for such ends, not for boredom or amusement or whatever fickle bits of emotion fill up the woman you have become." Jakob's voice hadn't raised, but it had grown heated. How dare she? "You and Trent are in no danger from me, I said as much before... but do not stop me from doing my job."

Arching a brow and looking just that little touch of amused so she knew he'd catch it, she didn't say anything as he ranted. "Touchy, aren't you." she noted. "Also, I was speaking about the fact that as I said--the police force is said to be in a shambles. What with your standing and all, I would have thought that would have been keeping you busy, pulling everyone back together again after such a tragedy as the commissioner's suicide." she stated. "But the fact that you didn't pull that from my statement really just says where your thoughts are. With you. Not the force or what kind of a state they're in. Sort of a sad state of affairs, what with you being a senior detective and all, and I'm sure they're looking towards you for guidance, and all you can do is waltz down here to snap at me about stopping you doing your job--which I've not in any way done, nor even attempted to impede." She sighed. "...so, what exactly is this little fit you're throwing at me?"

She was right on several points, but the only one that really registered with Jakob was that he was touchy right now. The clock was ticking, and in a few days time the unknown bodies would be disposed of; the coroners had all they needed, case reports were filled out. But he wouldn't lose, wouldn't let the dead men stay strangers. And whatever he said? It wasn't about doing his job, it was about proving yet again that he was the best, even if only to himself. "Dead strangers," Jakob murmured abruptly, "I believe Trent may help them find names again. One of them, he..."

Jakob was feeling sharp, maybe because of his nerves, but he could use it. He could turn his apparent ire into consternation easily, slipping a remorseful crease across his brow and around his mouth. "He had blanched skin, here," Jakob eventually continued, holding up the ring finger of his left hand, "He has... had a wife. Perhaps his fellows had families too. If so, I'd rather they knew before the bodies were cremated. And if not? None of us deserves such anonymity, even in death. But I have very little time before they join a thousand like them in Potter's Field."

"So you're going to weep for these ones, when you're here playing games and then throwing a tantrum at me." Eris said, clearly not buying into things. Then she turned her demeanor again, back to the ever so helpful persona. "Well, I do hope that my associate can be of some help to you, to put these poor anonymous family members to rest. Though I would imagine if they were missed, you'd have gotten a missing person's report by now, wouldn't you? Unless of course they're criminals. They don't usually get reported missing." Even if she had. But then her case had been just that--missing persons, so far as she knew. And even if everyone knew she'd been murdered, it still hadn't actually been termed that. And then the case had gone away like every other one. Like apparently this one was about to. "Still, I hope he can be of some aid." she said, like she wasn't actually going to be taking a look to give him any help either, even if she had known a hell of a lot of people back in her day.

"A tantrum," Jakob echoed with a look of disbelief, shaking his head and pacing away from her. "A tantrum would be burying you in city planners and inspectors for whatever you intend to do here. This? Is my trying to outrace codes of conduct and sort out the misfortune of others. I am not weeping for these men, I am simply wishing there was some sense to their ends. I'm not boasting when I say that I see the angles where others do not, it is why our serial killer only claimed seven victims, but this case has almost no angles at all. Only one, and it points to Trent or his former associates. The true shame is how many of them are dead or in hiding." He genuinely missed the O'Malleys, they'd been so easy to twist around and aim at people. "And I doubt you truly hope that, but if you do? Thank you," Jakob said genuinely, though with how much Eris had to suspect he lied? He doubted she'd believe him.

"I can tell you that if you're looking at Mr. Trent as a suspect...you're barking up the wrong tree, dearest." Eris told him. "As for his associates..." she shrugged one shoulder slightly. "Good luck finding them. Didn't they rampantly spill each other's blood in the streets?" she asked, knowing full well they did. But she didn't say it was pointless. Personally, if he could scare up the last remaining O'Malleys for something she'd be happier.

Brett caught the end of the conversation as he walked through to the office, a shave and a crisp, fresh white shirt the best he could do to hide his hangover. He didn't think that it showed so much in his appearance now, and he held himself alert, playing at feeling okay. "If you're looking for O'Malleys, I haven't seen any of them for over a week. Like Miss Stockard said, well - they scattered to the four winds, last I heard. And I'm not inclined to go looking," he said, walking over and standing by the desk, facing Jakob with Eris slightly behind him and to one side. He didn't sit. Jakob hadn't sat down and he didn't want to be looking up to the guy.

Jakob only gave a curt nod of greeting as Brett entered, already flipping open his file to pluck out the small stack of headshots he'd had taken of the victims. "And I had no intention of looking to you as a suspect, Mr. Trent. Every scrap we have on you implicates you in minor activities, whereas this? Is something a bit beyond your former pay grade." He reached out to lay the small stack of photos on the desk, stepping back and nodding to them. With Brett here, Eris could look and listen all she liked. "Six John Does discovered on the grounds of Bedlam a handful of days earlier, at first believed to be escaped patients, though hospital staff dispelled that idea," Jakob explained, glancing down at the papers he still held fleetingly, "Medical examination revealed extreme blunt force trauma consistent with a prolonged beating, and each man bore a broken ankle. According to our files, this is a tactic the O'Malleys often employed when punishing their own. I had hoped you might recognize some of the deceased, Mr. Trent, and that even a few names could help us establish a common link between these men."

"I'll leave you boys to your business." Eris said, standing and heading for the door, after she dropped her ledger into one of the desk drawers. Standing, she walked past the both of them without a glance at either, exiting and planning on heading for the apartment.

Brett didn't even glance at her, though he watched her go in the periphery of his vision. She had to have a reason for leaving, and he didn't know what had gone on between the two of them before, so he wasn't going to potentially get in the way of something. "So - you want me to take a trip down to the morgue with you and identify some bodies?" he asked. "Or have you just brought pictures for me to look through?" His tone was curt, but not unhelpful. Some of the guys he'd worked with had had families. And even if they hadn't, even if they were the scum of the earth with no ties at all, they were still people, and nobody deserved an anonymous grave.

"Pictures indeed," Jakob confirmed with another nod to the ones he'd set on the desk, "I thought I would spare you both the trip and the aroma of the morgue, not to mention the fact that I did not expect my presence to be welcome here. But it does not have to be, does it?" He smirked just a bit, shrugging his shoulders. "I'll take as little of your time as I can, I assure you. But if the deceased were O'Malley men, and were lulled by a common acquaintance? Then there is a dangerous individual out there with no fellows to keep them reined in."

Brett looked over at the pictures, scanning over them generally before moving to look at each one in turn. "Actually," he said, as he looked. "You do have to be at least partly welcome here. Unless you have a warrant, of course," he said, almost mildly, not looking over at Jakob at all, sounding like most of his attention was on the photographs. Mostly, he wanted to niggle Jakob simply because he had a hangover and was in a bad mood. Share the pain.

He'd need to do better, to at least reach Eris' caliber before Jakob would let his nerves be so exposed again. "I actually am in good standing with several judges in the city, but I'd hate to waste their time, yours, or my own if it wasn't necessary. And what I ask is a small thing, I feel," Jakob insisted, waiting patiently, "Though I suppose anyone else I knew of who might know these faces would require a warrant and armed backup, hm?" He'd only dealt with the O'Malleys a few times in all, but Jakob had known how volatile they could be. Any survivors out there wouldn't share Brett's social graces.

"Anybody else wouldn't help you are a point of principle," Brett corrected, going back over the photos and stopping at one particular one. It wasn't of a face. It was of a tattoo, lower arm, just above a slightly curved scar. Individually, they were nothing in particular, but taken together, the marking was distinctive. And Brett recognised it. He pressed a forefinger against the photo, but didn't say anything straight away.

"It is a remarkable flaw in the species, don't you think?" Jakob mused, chuckling softly, "That even if you or one of your old comrades had been wronged, you might deny my efforts to stop whoever wronged you over something as minor as the badge at my hip. Factions and loyalty before logic, I suppose." And he expected that from such simple, aggressive men; even ones of a different stripe like Brett. They lived with absolutes of one sort or another, strange versions of ethics and honor. But anything he might've wanted to share on those lines was bit back as Jakob watched Brett intently, waiting for words to join the press of a finger on the photo.

Brett considered that it really depended on one's point of view. After all, they may deny the police information, but there was often justice of a different sort available. Either the justice had been meted out to the victim, which was the reason for their death, or justice would follow to whoever committed the offence. The world often worked, in a harsh way and not one which Brett agreed with, but he'd seen it in action. The problems came when - and it was always a 'when' - those who had the power wanted more. And people like Eris and her girls got in the way. In the underground world there may be justice, but there was always injustice. Much, much more injustice. The was no room for the innocent bystanders. They were the ones who never got justice, they simply got crushed. "Tommy Maloney," he said, pushing the photo nearer to Jakob. "Worked for Joey O'Malley. Second cousin of his, on the mother's side." he went back to looking through the photos again.

"The sort of man who'd have a record," Jakob noted quietly, commiting the name to memory and silently promising to punish whichever uniformed idiot that had failed to pick him out from their books of mugshots. "Did Mr. Maloney operate his own crew? Could it be that the others were his subordinates?" Even if that wasn't the case, the fact that this man had been directly commanded by a blood O'Malley played nicely with Jakob's theory; this was a cleanup job, this was the survivors of the gang removing every liability.

Brett shook his head. "No - Tommy was all muscle, no brains. Doubt they would have taken him on at all if it hadn't been as a favour to his uncle. Mostly he was kept for grunt work, usually in a gang. Back up only. So what you're looking at here if Tommy's involved is possibly the other way around - that the others were on his level and his superiors," Brett suggested, looking through the headshots, but not finding any that looked like Joey. That face he knew, the others came and went aside from one or two.

Brett's supposition definitely fit. The dead men could easily be soldiers given what Jakob had seen, and at most? The one who was missing his wedding ring might have been a peg higher, if he could afford jewelry of any kind. "Silencing him would remove one more person who knew who was still in power but lacked the wit to keep it quiet," Jakob mused, nodding, "With a spot of luck, our files will point out known associates and we may find another match or two." He grinned privately, amused at how easily Brett had started theorizing about what reason there might have been behind these killings. Even an entire decade hadn't dulled what he'd learned while wearing a badge, it seemed. "But it will take far more than a spot of luck to find someone who has killed everyone who knew they lived..."

"Most times, that's going to be impossible," Brett told him. "Close associates, maybe - but not everyone. If you're looking at that kind of level, then you need to be checking the files for seemingly unrelated murders, maybe around addresses. Joey lived uptown. About five blocks from here? I don't know the address exactly, but it was one of those big brownstones," he offered, before pushing the photos back into a pile. "The rest, I can't help you with," he added.

That was a disappointment for sure, but still, he'd gleaned one bit of insight here. That was all Jakob could ask for, really. No case ever unfolded itself as neatly as he wanted this one to, but at least now he had something to work with again. And the possibility of finding Joey O'Malley's residence was a tempting lead unto itself, so it wasn't as if Jakob was settling for only one revelation. He could make this work. "The help you've given is great already," he assured Brett as he reclaimed the photos and tucked them back into the file, "If I had some way of showing my gratitude beyond leaving you to your own affairs, I would take it. As it is, thank you, Mr. Trent, we owe you a debt."

Brett cast a look at him. "You owe me nothing, detective," he said, curtly, unsmiling. He didn't want people doing him favours, and Jakob was right about one thing - the best thing that he could do was to leave him the hell alone.

"Ah, for all my debts to be so easily repaid," Jakob mused as he put the pictures away and tucked the file back under his arm, "Still, if that is the case? Then I will not occupy you any longer. I'm sure I have many hours with our records ahead of me, not to mention the unenviable task of notifying any family I discover." He gave a curt smile to Brett, an expression with no real warmth in it, then turned to look back towards the elevator. "Best of luck to you in your endeavors here, Mr. Trent, I'm sure we'll cross paths again at some point in the future," Jakob said in parting, nodding once before he turned to start back down the hall that had led him here.

Brett watched him to the elevator, following him as far as it took to be able to see the man leave, not at all perturbed that he was being overt about it. Brett had no problem with making it obvious that Jakob was going to be leaving now. he knew the lines which one could walk with the police, and, really, the one thing that choosing not to make his history public gave him with this guy was a knowledge between them. The knowledge that if Jakob decided to make life difficult, then Brett could choose to have his real history 'resurface', turning the tables on the other man. The newspapers would have a field day with the apparent persecution of a hero cop, after all. People loved some good redemption. But, he wasn't going to play that card unless his hand was forced. And in the meantime, he'd settle for Jakob leaving.

Jakob didn't spare another word as he left, just smiling somewhat coldly to himself as he stepped into the elevator and turned to look back at Brett, his gaze not breaking until the doors shut. He was amused by Trent's part in things, aggravated by Eris', and bound by his own rules to not have any fun with either of them. Not direct fun, at least, but perhaps with a bit of time and thought Jakob might find the opportunity to let someone else in the city give them grief. Surely there were still people out there with a grudge against either or both of them, right? And until he found them, he'd have plenty to distract himself with; both in this case and what Eris had noted, the vacuum of power created by the commissioner's suicide. It would be an entertaining handful of days ahead, Jakob was confident...

Brett waited until the elevator doors closed and then rang down to the front desk. He talked to the conseirge down there, left instructions that Detective Hollis was on his way down, that he would be leaving and that the doorman was to make certain that his car got off okay. In other words, Jakob was going to leave the building and Brett was going to have a guarantee that that had happened. He was promised a phonecall as soon as that had all been done, which he asked to be put through to the apartment before he headed back, looking for her.

Eris wasn't actually all the way into the apartment. She'd been eavesdropping as much as she could from the hallway between the offices and the apartment. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed over her stomach, she kept her eyes on Brett when he was there again. "I do get under that man's skin." she noted.

"Clearly," Brett agreed, giving her a glance as he walked past her and into the apartment proper. "I'm surprised you didn't stay so you could do that all the more," he added.

"He decided to play the 'I'm not going to tell you' game, then it sounded like he might actually want me to take a look. After all, it isn't like I didn't have a whole lot of knowledge on people back in the day. So, if he wanted something, he wasn't getting it because he was playing a pissy bitch. That and he threw a little fit at me for no reason." she said rolling her eyes. "But, you've got a headache. More catting back and forth wouldn't have helped that." she said. Then she turned back towards the door to the offices, assuming he was going to lie back down.

Brett watched her walk off for a few paces before he spoke. "If you weren't going to give him information because he was being pissy, I'm surprised you even call me," he said, talking to her back. "You could have just sent him on his way with nothing." Which did raise the question of why she had called him, especially if she was that concerned about his head.

"And given him an excuse to go downtown, trump up something resembling a charge so he could come back with a warrant and arrest you?" she asked. "That wouldn't have been a better solution. And while whatever it was would be bullshit, and I'm sure would be dropped, I don't really want to invest in a lawyer until we have to, and I don't like the idea of you sitting in jail." she finished. She glanced back at him over her shoulder, hand on the doorknob. "Are you questioning the way I handled it?" she asked.

"No - just curious. You don't have to get defensive on me," he told her in return. "I threw him a bone, told him I knew nothing else, made sure he left the building. I'm going back to bed," he told her, feeling an argument potentially brewing and with his hangover lingering, he was sure to take anything said in the worst possible way. Hell, they'd been meant to talk today about making things better, he definitely wasn't up for making them worse.

She nodded. She'd figured he would be. So, she just turned, without another word, and shut the door behind herself when she got to the hall with the offices. She didn't immediately go to the office, though. She just exhaled, and leaned back against the doorframe, looking down at the floor. Things were still not quite where they should be. Though it was possible she didn't even know what the definition of where things should be was. Whatever it was, this wasn't currently it. Fuck. Eris was not a happy bunny.