Moved

Not having been paying a bit of attention to the door, Chad caught Clint off guard, and he whipped his head around in surprise at the new voice. "Chad...Hi." He toyed with the bandana around his hand, and a faint smile surfaced. "I wondered when you'd show up."

He ambled back to the pickup, lifting an eyebrow at Chad's offer to help. "Well... I shouldn't turn you down since I'm running on a tight schedule and can't seem to..." He picked up a wrench as he left his grouchy sentence unfinished. Complaining about Wes' absence wouldn't do any good. "So you can stick around if you want, but... I know you're not here to work on cars."

His fingers fiddled with the wrench as he studied Chad's face. "Rosalyn's not here. She moved to town a few weeks ago."


Jason chuckled at Katie, appreciating her humor and her attempt to make the best of the situation. He shook his head when she mentioned her plans though. "Go. Take the afternoon off. I won't be anywhere but here anyway." Actually, the truth of the matter was since Misty, he had no real life other than home and work. He hung out at Con and Jamie's a bit, but didn't want to be a nuisance, not to mention Con was busy at the factory six days a week. Jason still had friends, for sure, but with the band slowing down lately too, his social life had taken a nosedive. Most of his lunch breaks were spent here. But he smiled at Katie anyway.

"I'll be here, then I'll just make one of the guys shadow me this evening. No big deal." He really didn't want to put her out, no matter how willing she was. This whole thing was stupid to begin with - he just wished he could quit being a target and that the Agency would stop picking on them. 

"I don't know what cases Reese will want to assign us so we're working together anyway, but I doubt he'll have a plan until at least tomorrow." He shrugged and stood up, turning the chair back around. "I, um...thanks." His eyes landed on hers for a moment, and for just a split second, his heart ached. But he forced it to pass quickly. "...For being a good sport, I mean."


Reese wandered in to work, later than normal, with two cups of coffee in hand from the nearby shop. He looked tired this morning, and just a little unkempt, but not disheveled. His button-down shirt was tucked into his jeans, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It was a contrast to the dress pants and tie he normally wore, but today...today he'd been to weary to concern himself with being formal. 

Stopping at Nate's cubicle, he handed him one of the cups of coffee. "Truce?"