...well-stocked, with the big-money machines just down the hall. It is late in the work day, even by New York City standards, but there's life yet to it -- even if it isn't very enthusiastic life. Bahir sits slumped at his station with a paper cup at his elbow. The cardboard insulation is wrapped around his first two fingers, and he turns it with his thumb. He eyes the computer screen blearily,...

... "I'm really not sure the cape was worth it!" The squeak of leather? That's audible, too. "The cape absolutely /makes/ it." Standing outside the dressing room, still for the tailor's last touches, Bahir glances in the direction of Natalie's curtain with an irrepressible grin. "I'm positive. Let's see." "I haven't decided whether I'm coming out!" Natalie returns from behind the curtain. She turns...

...and tile, bright, clean, and sterile. It is very white. Emma fits right in, offered a seat upon a stainless steel counter by an escort and then left alone for a moment as she waits for the other two. Bahir stands outside, waiting. As a pawn escorts Jean down, he tips his head to her. "Dr. Grey," he greets simply. "Any idea how this happened?" he asks her in an undertone as he pushes open the door....

...hold in you place. The metal would fog from the rush of your breath, from the heat and the damp of our bodies. I bet we could make a mess, breaking no little glassware. Shall we arrange a time? - Bahir. By the time Percy returns to the hotel, it is late. It is cold. It is dark. He collects the envelope, and the rest of his directed mail -- only a few things, this bill, that request for a charitable...

... "I'm kind of drunk and I'm going to spend the evening sulking and maybe crying if I don't have some company. What are you doing?" The answer comes as, "Yeah," and then trails off into silence as Bahir wisely does not try to speak over Natalie. He rolls a pen in his fingers, and then rubs at the arch of an eyebrow. A faintly exasperated sort of humor warms his voice. "Wow, you sure know how to...

... "I'm kind of drunk and I'm going to spend the evening sulking and maybe crying if I don't have some company. What are you doing?" The answer comes as, "Yeah," and then trails off into silence as Bahir wisely does not try to speak over Natalie. He rolls a pen in his fingers, and then rubs at the arch of an eyebrow. A faintly exasperated sort of humor warms his voice. "Wow, you sure know how to...

... no scattered notes, no dirty dishes. There is, however, a cup of coffee on the middle of her coffee table, settled next to a very small slip of a chip. She's frowning at it. Rat-a-tat-tat comes Bahir's over quick rap of knuckles upon the doorframe. Shields are at their lowest possible ebb, mental ears strained for whispers. He glances over his shoulder, and then looks the other way. He fidgets...

... no scattered notes, no dirty dishes. There is, however, a cup of coffee on the middle of her coffee table, settled next to a very small slip of a chip. She's frowning at it. Rat-a-tat-tat comes Bahir's over quick rap of knuckles upon the doorframe. Shields are at their lowest possible ebb, mental ears strained for whispers. He glances over his shoulder, and then looks the other way. He fidgets...

...the feeble attempts. Early risers, attempting to catch the early worm, are stirring here and there, bright (or not so) mental spots scattered across the Center's mental landscape, though none near Bahir's lab. Emma waits in the dark, settled on a tall stool, knees crossed, a heel caught in the rung of the stool, on the table next to her, three items laid out in precise order: a bottle, a syringe...

...the feeble attempts. Early risers, attempting to catch the early worm, are stirring here and there, bright (or not so) mental spots scattered across the Center's mental landscape, though none near Bahir's lab. Emma waits in the dark, settled on a tall stool, knees crossed, a heel caught in the rung of the stool, on the table next to her, three items laid out in precise order: a bottle, a syringe...