Eat your vegetables

[Carmichael] Molly's been to Chuck's place before - his condo is on the second floor of a four floor building, next door to and around the corner from Riley's. Today isn't a day off work, but it had been a hated early day - he'd had to be at the store at open, but at least he got to come home early. Shoes are kicked off by the door, tie tossed over the back of the couch, and Chuck basks in the air conditioned wonder that is home, folding onto the couch in black slacks and untucked white, short sleeved shirt, mussed (but recently shorn) dark hair with a diet mountain dew in hand, and the thought that he should probably eat something soon in mind.

[Molly Quincannon] [[Let's have a bit of Corr/Time/Entropy - 'I'll just miss any potential tails; everyone's gotta take a leak sometime. Diff 5 -1 resonance match so diff 4 + WP]]
Dice Rolled:[ 2 d10 ] 7, 9 (Success x 3 at target 4) [WP]

[Molly Quincannon] There was a text, of course, asking if she could come by, with a promise to 'ditch the chaperone'. And thus she does. Whatever idiot's watching her will be delayed by some unavoidable issue, and/or she'll come out at just the right time to miss the guy, and for the moment at least, she can move freely around the city. For most errands, she wouldn't bother with this. Now, though, she is - for Chuck's, the Lafette, anywhere a friend calls home, she's making the effort.

So she turns up after her own workday (she dresses no differently for work than she does for everyday) with dim sum from that place that got the good rating for being diabetic-friendly, and buzzes for entry. She's quiet today, when she's let in - thoughtful, which is an odd look for her. But she holds up the bag, letting the smell and the shape of take-out containers within speak for itself.

[Carmichael] She's let up and in easily, and the smell of food gets a grin. "I was just thinking I should call for something, or make a sandwich. Hey," he says, as easy as he ever is. "Table's a bit buried, but the couch is clear. Drink? Everything's sugar free, alcoholic or water. Oh, no, I have some regular orange juice, too."

This is a bit rueful - he keeps a few things he wouldn't normally because of Em, Riley and now Molly, but it's nearing grocery day. Stock is a bit low. And of course he knows there are going to be things to talk about, and so, after getting plates and bringing them to the coffee table, he raises an eyebrow.

And asks, "So, are you going to tell me everything? Because I'm guessing there's a lot more going on than I know about."

[Molly Quincannon] "I have sugary caffeine-water, but thanks," she says, patting her messenger bag with one hand while putting the bag of take-out on a table with the other. "Not just for that, either. In case I didn't say at the time, thank you for what you did yesterday." Maybe she would have preferred going to see this Captain (or maybe not, given that apparently this was going to be assassination rather than interrogation, though she still wonders...) but she's not going to belittle what Chuck did to quite likely save her life.

Then there's a raised eyebrow to match his. "I was about to ask you that. You're the Mind mage, and you obviously had reason to pull me out of there that I didn't know anything about. As to 'everything' ... I don't think I know everything. A lot of that surprised me about as much as it did you. I'm happy to fill in the blanks if I can, but ... what are the blanks?"

[Carmichael] "All of them, mostly. Pretend I'm new - to the city, anyway - and don't know anything. But first, I will say this - that guy, the cop we were talking to, had something like half his brain tied off. Like even he couldn't reach it, and it's his. I poked a bit, but it was a better firewall than I could build, or find a trapdoor through. He literally couldn't have told you anything, and I'm guessing meeting this Captain would have ended up with you in similar straits. So, spill."

Plates, set down, and he lets her dish the food up while they talk, while he claims a pair of chopsticks.

[Molly Quincannon] "..............They did what?!?" No, she doesn't even know who 'they' are. But she's currently pissed off. This is probably no surprise at all. "Unbe-fucking-lievable. Well, that's information we didn't have before, so I guess that's something."

Then, as she dishes out food, she begins the infodump. "So there's trouble from a couple of non-Chantry-affiliated cabals in the city. At least, that's what it looks like. There are a few pet theories going around, but there's no proof of any of them right now, though the fact that the cops keep coming into this one suggests a few things. That's the third one we've had so far, that guy from yesterday. The first one I got wind of is an old En-Why-Cee guy named Retvier. One of those guys with that Arcane thing, which is a bitch, but at least I kept some idea about him, which is better than Thomas did. He's going around and saying ... well, anything to get people to help him with bits and pieces. Israel and Solomon apparently got the same treatment. Fact is, we don't know if Retvier and whatever's left of his crew - he claims they're all dead but I don't know whether to believe him or not - are even a part of a different cabal from the ones stealing guns and ... shit, no wonder those stolen arms didn't get noticed for a week. And there's something about a charity organisation dealing with orphanages that's apparently hinky but I still haven't analysed the data I hacked out of their system."

Then she shrugs. "As for the accessory to murder bit, that's bullshit. I've been in the Chicago PD database twice in the last few weeks and had a peek at my record for kicks. I'm still clean, without so much as a hacking charge to my name. So really, I'm just striking out in random directions for information because none of it fits and I've got no idea what the hell's going on anymore. It might have been worth getting taken just to find out what the fuck the deal is ... though from what you're telling me, probably not. Though the Captain might have been Retvier, who I really want to talk to again after this bullshit. This is getting really frustrating."

[Carmichael] "Well, analyze it. We can hardly go on assumptions based on how something seems, can we?"

The bit about a hacking charge gets a snort, and she knows enough about his history, even if it is mostly vague, to guess what he thinks about those, or the lack of them. Quite frankly, he-that-was has more than that on his record, most of it false.

"Look, it doesn't really matter what's currently on your record and what isn't - that's so ridiculously easy to falsify that it'd be laughable if it weren't sad. Cop shops have some of the worst security in the known world. Right up there with universities. If they want to send people after you, they'll be able to, with all the right markers in place." Molly knows this as well as Chuck does, and still he says it - she's overconfident. Sometimes, she needs reminders. "So, you're the one doing face time, apparently. I would like you to consider continuing to not do so alone; Israel's already marked, you said, and Solomon to? Bring one or both of them with you, if you decide you really have a hankering to do something that may get you effectively lobotomized. In the mean time, Riley and I will dig around to see what we can find, jumping off with Retvier's name. Sound good?"

[Molly Quincannon] "I've already looked Retvier up," Molly tells him, dealing with the last bit first. "That's how I know he's a cop on extended leave, and where he's from. Basically, there's nothing on him in mundane circles, at least in part because of that remember-me-not thing. He's been on a few very high-profile busts but somehow never manages to get named. There's two other badge numbers - not least of which is that guy's from yesterday that I want to look into, but I've already got a few backdoors into the police database here so that's easy enough, particularly since I plan to keep an eye on my record. Because yes, they could falsify a few things, but I think they would have done it by now. This guy wasn't following me as a cop, that much is pretty clear. I'm not sure what to make of the cop connection anyway, though. I assume that's Retvier because he's the only one I've seen with a hint of resonance. Unless you got something I didn't; was that guy from yesterday ... resonant in any way?"

Then she ruffles her hair in the back and looks up at him, perplexed and nowhere near as worried as it ought to be. "You think they'd try doing that Mind-magic lobotomy thing to me? Why?"

[Carmichael] He considers for a moment, then goes with the blunt choice rather than the placating one. "Because you're nosy, and you don't think before jumping in head first. That can't be great for them any more than it is for you or us."

He sighs, doesn't like talking that way to anyone least of all his maybe, and the food goes forgotten - ignored, whatever - as he fiddles with his chopsticks. For himself, or in a virtual arena, sure, Chuck can be confrontational, combative. Face to face is different. "Or, I don't know. To make you a tool just like they did the cop, yeah? And how much more dangerous would you be than a random, mundane cop? In, what, a month you've at least met almost every one of us in town. We're talking about Disciples or better, here, not just Initiates and Apprentices. And, I know you're awesome, but other people have awesome too. There are tricks up my sleeve that you can't pull, same with Riley's, and lots of other people's."

[Molly Quincannon] The first bit, she handles well until he gets to the last two words of the second sentence, at which point ... well, he may as well have just slapped her.

The rest she listens to, and there's a breath, and then, "I know that other people have awesome. I have seen them do the awesome. I have seen you do the awesome, in fact. I know you can pull tricks that I can't; I was counting on it. I trusted you at my back, despite wanting to protect you, because that's your choice as you keep pointing out to me, so don't even start with that 'you're an overconfident lone wolf who doesn't trust anyone to do anything sensible' bull. I know other people can do things. But there are things that I want to know first-hand. Like you said, I am nosy. I prefer the term 'data-junkie', by the way; and it's like that. I need to know these things and so I find them out. Implying that I can't do that info-gather - or maybe it's more 'shouldn't' - just because other people can ... that's counter-productive to say the least. This is like my mission now. I'll go along with the idea of backup, whether on hacks or out on the street, but no one's taking my mission away from me."

[Littleton] Thursday. There's a farmer's market somewhere. And Emily's house-guest has decided to take a break from formidable social visits with her interestingly forceful Chicago friends. It's as good a time as any to reintroduce Chuck to an oddly green food group called vegetables.

Emily doesn't think much of showing up announced at the building where the two Vdepts live. She has been invited in, given access, put on the white list. Like mythical creatures of yore, there's nothing sacred about this threshold anymore. Nothing pushing her back but the echo of propriety (you should call first [Eh, it's Chuck]).

She's unaware of the conversation on the other side of Carmichael's door when she knocks. Once. Twice. If no one answers, there's a jangle of keys from her side. The scrape of metal in the lock. Either way, that door swings open soon, to reveal the Orphan Apprentice, with a carrier sack full of 5-servings-a-day goodness and her messenger bag.

[Carmichael] By 'us', he meant 'entire Chicago mage community' not something more personal, but he doesn't argue it - just looks apologetic when he sees that look on her face. This is what Emily walks in on, a tense, apologetic but determined VDept, and an upset Cultist.

"Honey," he says. "You 'let me' come along because I badgered you. And you're not always going to be able to know first hand. That's just not the way it works. 'Your mission' or not, you might have to share and let other people help, because this is over your head, and that makes it bad for all of us if you try to go it alone, or only trust someone else to come as pretty impotent backup, given insistence on staying out of sight. Because whatever you think it is, that's how it looks."

But there's Em, and some of the tension drifts away; it's always nice to have cabalmates near. He hasn't cut the conversation off because it isn't about them, about himself and Molly, but about something bigger and more important.

"Hey, Little. Whatcha got?"

[Littleton] [Aware as Empathy: You okay?]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 3, 4, 4, 5, 6 (Success x 1 at target 6)
to Carmichael

[Molly Quincannon] "Your badgering had nothing to do with it," Molly grumbles. "I could have just not told you where and when I was going. And I didn't see you as impotent; I saw you as a quite obviously very necessary failsafe! If I got into shit - which I did - you were there to bail me out! Which you did! Staying out of sight just meant you were in the right position to do it, and pick up useful info besides! As for the rest of it--!"

Well, that's cut off because there's an opening door and an Emily, and a lessening of tension from Chuck, and ... yes, an upset Cultist. Though she does manage a I'm glad to see you but your timing sucks kind of smile. "Hey, Emily. Should I--?" She jerks a thumb in the direction of the door.

[Littleton] That's my mission now ... No one's taking my mission away from me.

Eyebrows go up. Shoes come off. Emily always toes her shoes off at the door of Chuck's flat. She does it everywhere but the Chantry, and Molly's re-purposed space. It's a quiet nod to the earliest memories she has, the first place she considered calling Home.

She shifts the carrier bag in her arms so that she might slip her messenger bag's strap up and over her head. This rests near her shoes, despite the nosy/data-junkie in the house. She still expects some boundaries between relative strangers will remain unperturbed. Emily keeps her keys in her hand, it's a symbol of her readiness to make a quick retreat should tactical fallback prove necessary.

He calls her Little, and Emily smiles slightly.

"Carmichael, meet vegetables and fruits. Health food, meet Chuck."

This careful smile is extended to Molly, whose demeanor at the moment makes Emily adopt a carefully neutral expression. It might come off as vaguely judgmental or politely distant, depending on Molly's mood.

"Hi, Molly." Pause. "And no, I don't mean to interrupt. It seems the two of you have," a sidelong glance to Chuck, and then she looks back to the Cultist, "A few things to discuss."

Discuss is such a polite term. It's not really how Emily would explain what was going on in her cabal-mate's flat, just now. No. But it was what she hoped this altercation might evolve into, given a tempering influence.

"I'll just put these in the kitchen," she says, wandering on through to that room as if she were completely comfortable here, now, with the lover's spat (it's not about love [no, but it is about free will and loved ones]) as a backdrop.

[Carmichael] [Per + Aware-as-Emp]
Dice Rolled:[ 6 d10 ] 1, 3, 3, 4, 5, 8 (Failure at target 6)
to Littleton

[Carmichael] "Sure, you could have, and I could have found out anyway. I don't let friends go into things like that alone if I can help it - sure, I'd rather be here helping from behind my computer, but I know sometimes it doesn't work that way. Anyway. I have a feeling we're going to disagree on this one, no matter how long we circle it."

There's a breath, and stopping of talking. Then, "Neither of you needs to leave. In fact, I like having both of you here. Thanks, Em," he says with that big, friendly grin - he lets temper go far more quickly than it rises (and most people don't necessarily recognize it's risen at all). "I was running a bit low. Good looking out."

Pause, consider chopsticks still playing between his fingers rather than picking up a dumpling. "Do you know anything about the warring cabals or whatever, Em? Israel and Solomon are having some trouble with them, and Molly too?"

[Molly Quincannon] Molly doesn't go through people's bags, even those she considers close friends. She'll peer into open-topped grocery bags, or coolers, or the back seats of cars, but her Curiosity isn't quite so severe as to go poking around in other people's purses, messenger bags and the like. Thus Emily's bag is safe from the nosiness that is Molly.

Besides, Molly has other things on her mind. "Look, I don't even know how it's going to sound at this point, given, but what I was going to suggest before this turned into a ... heated debate was that you liaise with Israel. Chuck, you had a link with that guy's head; you saw what was going on in it. You can track him on that basis; Israel might have the hoodoo-power needed to unlock that poor guy's head, get at the information inside, which'll really help and is way more than I can do. Hopefully someone will fill me in on what you two find out." There's a trace of sad and a hint of bitter there, but mostly it's just somewhat frustrated common sense (Molly does display some of that from time to time). "Y'know," she adds, almost laughing at herself, "if people led off with 'I want to help' instead of 'you can't handle this on your own', I wouldn't get so damn defensive. I'm sorry. I guess there's a holdover from a bit of a verbal dust-up with Thomas the other day."

[Littleton] While she's putting groceries away, Emily finds a water bottle to appropriate from Chuck's stock of refreshments. All of these things going into his fridge can be prepared, easily, for grilling or salads. She knows Chuck grills. She knows he eats salad. He knows she's good for directions on how to make either. But the respite of hiding in the kitchen is short, as Chuck's question pulls her back to the group.

Emily finds a place to lean, it's a posture she's learned from Owen. She doesn't wear it with the same stoic scowl, but her arms loosely cross her middle to let her hands meet at that water bottle. She idly fidgits with the cap, turning it this way and that as she regards the two of them.

"Molly mentioned it before," she says, when there's a break in the fray and she can answer. "But nothing's come across the Emissary Council. It's been quiet since the meeting. I think everyone's still regrouping from Edom. If it's getting bigger, though, I'm happy to reach out the Society and the Guardians."

This is business-like, almost. But it keeps some warmth; there's a unspoken understanding that they'd have to get on the same page before she goes calling other Emissaries, though. And here she opens the bottle, takes a sip, and then jumps into a conversation she's got little grounding in and wasn't exactly invited into.

"Mmm, point of order, Ms. Molly. This sounds like precisely the sort of thing you can't handle on your own and, if you two are involved," she gestures here between them with the hand holding the bottle cap, "Then it's not about you, singular, anymore. Regardless of how nice it is to think that. And if you bring Chuck into something, it touches me and Riley and Owen."

Well, maybe not Owen, as he's elsewhere for the moment.

"And believe me, Chuck's even more surprised to hear me say this than you, given my run of things in Spring, but it's an unavoidable truth, really." Her tone lightens a little. (Chuck will know it for what it portends.) "By the by, you really should tell me about Owen and the cupcake, when you get a moment. I find that curious."

[Carmichael] "There's a difference between not being able to handle something on your own," he murmurs for Molly's sake, "and not being able to handle it at all, gender not withstanding. There are things I can't handle on my own. Even Ashley has things she can't handle and calls for help." And Ashley is now an Adept in a city largely full of Disciples and lower.

Then louder, clearly for both, "I can talk to Israel, yeah. As for what's going on, I pretty much only know what Molly's told me - there's a guy named Retvier that I'll do some more digging on, and the cop we ran into the other day."

Chuck is a good, law abiding citizen - still, Emily knows how nervous authority figures make him. Particularly ones in uniform, with badges and guns and what not. He doesn't say it, does his best to hide it when he can't help interacting with them, but it's there.

"I'm gonna dig on the cop, too, especially if you remember that badge number, Molly, see if I can find any connections. Oh. And there's a Mind Disciple or better who's infiltrated at least one precinct far enough to get to that guy." Then, curious, "Owen doesn't like cupcakes?"

[Molly Quincannon] Molly's lips thin as Emily leaps into the conversation at precisely the wrong point. There Molly was, trying to apologise - to give a little - and then there goes Emily, bringing it right back around to-- Well. Suffice it to say that there's a line. Emily's leapt so far across it on so little information that there's a moment in which Molly is entirely silent, boiling with a multitude of old slights. Chuck ... doesn't entirely help. But she gathers herself. "Not ... really the point I was making," she says, quiet and calm (with the flailing and the bitter and the hurt underneath - it's not unleashed because neither of them deserve to be dumped on). "I never was trying to handle it on my own. There's been backup since the start. I had Thomas with me when I first got pulled into it and I've been in contact with Israel all the way. I wasn't saying you're wrong; just talking approach, that's all. Nobody's receptive to 'you can't deal with this', however you slice it, especially when they're as invested as I've had to be." She shakes her head. "As to getting your cabal involved ... I'm sorry. I'm used to having a cabal of my own to turn to. I don't. I turn to those I can get hold of and trust. Even when I don't want to."

Which is around the point at which Molly just plain gives up. It's subtle, but visible; she looks tired and somehow less when she says, "Yeah, I remember it. There's another one too; Thomas pulled it up for me to check out and I thought I could kill two birds with one stone but ... since you're doing it anyway..." She rummage through her messenger bag for pad and paper, not looking at either of them as she writes down the badge numbers. She doesn't hand them to Chuck; she just leaves them on the coffee table.

The thing about Owen and cupcakes would normally get laughter; now, there's a smile. "I ran into him, the day before his birthday. At a coffee shop, with a whole bunch of other people, while he was trying to talk to James. I bought him a cupcake and had them put a little candle in it, and wished him a happy early birthday. He said thank you but that he didn't celebrate them ... and then left. He was nearly running, and blushing and everything. Poor guy."

[Littleton] [Aware as Empathy: Mr. Carmichael, do you accept the witness's testimony? (Looking for reactions, to base Emily's reply on.)]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 1, 1, 1, 7, 10 (Failure at target 6)
to Carmichael

[Littleton] [Re-roll that. Because really? We're close.]
Dice Rolled:[ 5 d10 ] 2, 3, 3, 8, 10 (Success x 2 at target 7)
to Carmichael

[Littleton] Molly bristles, and it's not so much that Emily is insensitive to her position as it is that there are multiple factors to take in, just now. The younger girl is quiet for a stretch, watching the interplay between Chuck and Molly with keen and piercing blue eyes. It might be odd, if one chose to frame this in terms of their personal lives. Chuck's Ex, Chuck, his GF, all having a tense conversation. But this was about something else, and the past familiarity informed Emily's position but did not enfold it.

"At least you got a thank you," she tells Molly. "Instead of this face..." Emily makes her best scowling Owen imitation. She's quite good at it. She's been on the receiving end of it a few times, and the reason that someone else had gotten pinned with it more than once. (More than thrice).

It's levity, almost. Emily doesn't seem outwardly perturbed by what Molly tells her, but there's a little hitch in the tension between her shoulderblades. It ratchets up just ever so slightly.

"And I think you mistake my point. It's not about ability; it's about intent. No one person acts in a vaccuum. Be mindful of the people your actions touch by consequence, is all I'm asking."

Except that she's not, asking that is. And this is painfully close to comments that have been leveled at Emily herself in the past few days. Personal responsibility, it seems, is a watchword in the community just now. There's a surety underlining what Emily says, and for all that she is calm and composed just now, it reads as a firmament: immoveable.

[Carmichael] it's not just in the pasts few days that similar comments and requests have been leveled at Emily; Chuck's talked to her about similar things ago, as long ago as that very dangerously busy spring and end of winter, when there was still snow on the ground, when the rain was more solid than liquid. Chuck is all for progress - he's all for learning, and doing, and experimenting, and writing code with errors and having to start all over again - but reckless abandon is not for him.

"We're not saying you can't deal with it. We're just saying . . . oh, never mind, you've agreed anyway. No need to further belabor the point. Wanna have a hacker conference and see what you, Riley and I can get together? I just kind of figured you'd rather be . . . you know, out there." He waves a hand, meaning dealing with more face to face confrontation - which he doesn't like, and obviously doesn't deal with well. He's still a bit anxious.

[Molly Quincannon] That about caps it - she's not angry; just ... resigned. Her head is very much Somewhere Else. "If you want me, I'm in," she says, "but I guess I can stick to the fieldwork if that's easier. I sent you and Riley everything I've got on all those hacks I've made anyway--" (which, if they've looked at, great; if not, well, it's hardly for lack of being free with information and soliciting help and advice on her part) "--so at least you've got a starting point."

Then, a change of subject - or rather, a show that the subject is closed by turning back to the Owen thing. Molly has Capitulated. The subject is now closed. On to baked goods. "I guess I probably should have got a frown from Owen, really," she says to Emily. The cupcake did have pink frosting and a little piped-icing daisy on the top. I thought it was cute. A bit girlie, but cute."

[Littleton] Chuck mentions a hacking conference, and it's unclear who he's addressing. Emily is about to opt in when Molly does. Instead she sips from her water bottle again, twist the cap back on tightly. She seeks the Adept's eyes for a moment, and if she finds purchase she holds them. Then Emily looks away.

(You know how to reach me.)

There was more on the cupcake fiasco, then, and Emily listens with apparent interest. "Ah," she says, with a little pause. "I'm sure you just surprised him." Another small pause, this one barely long enough to lead into what she says next. "He's a rather private person."

[Carmichael] An eyebrow raises Emily-wards, and though he can sense something coming (danger, Will Robinson), he doesn't know what it is, or why exactly. He is sibling-close with Riley and is clearly equally close - if in a different way - with Emily. This bond has never extended to Owen in the same way; they're cabalmates and Chuck will do what he can for the Chorister, but there's not the same near-telepathy that occasionally happens with Chuck and the girls.

That is to say, he has no idea what the deal with the cupcake is all about - just that . . . "Em's right. I didn't even know it was his birthday until she was taking him out for it."

So there's blinking, and a questioning look. Clearly, he's not sure what's going on.

[Molly Quincannon] Emily Looks at Chuck when the hacking thing comes up. Chuck ... does not get it. It's not Molly's place to explain, but at least it means that Chuck's got no shortage of hacker-help. (Yes, it stings. But it's not like she hasn't been guided towards a mission. And she intends to work the mission. Oh yes.) They'll sort it out.

Then she blinks and consults her internal day planner (the combination of her innate time sense and the near-perfect memory). "Oh, I gotta go," she says, standing. "I promised Natyana I'd go hold her hand while she got her first tattoo, and I ought to go before I'm late. Um ... enjoy the dim sum," which she hasn't touched "and I'll call you later, okay?" There's a kiss to Chuck's forehead and, barring any last-minute comments, Molly's heading for the door and out.

[Littleton] It isn't Emily's fault if Molly feels a sting that their skillsets and echoes in Chuck's life overlap. They're both tech savvy, and vaguely interested in Chinese cuisine. Or what passes for Chinese food here. The younger girl glances at the take away boxes with mild (morbid) curiosity, but doesn't investigate too far.

Her glance drops away from the other two mages when they exchange affections. This is a polite aversion, not embarrassment on Emily's part. She'd rather not intrude, as she'd rather no one intruded on her quieter moments.

"Sounds like you have your crack team for hacking covered," she says, while Molly is still in earshot. It's for the Cultist's benefit. "If you want any help with the break down, you know how to find me." It distinguishes, in a subtle ways (perhaps unnecessarily) their skill sets.

"It was good to see you, Molly." There's a smile for the other girl. It's not as warm as it has been recently, but it's warm enough. It is polite enough. It certainly bears no ill-will, resentment or envy. Emily has things on her mind. After this encounter, she has a few more things to juggle.

[Carmichael] There's standing and a see-you-later for Molly, with thanks for the food (which he hasn't touched, either, despite fidgeting with chopsticks and what both girls have to know is the window in which he needs to eat before health starts being affected coming near its later end); at the door, he bends and kisses her lightly on the lips.

"Be careful. Please. And have fun with Natyana."

Then she's off for her afternoon with a friend, leaving the two present members of Cabal 3 on their own; rather than making for the food, Chuck moves to get a beer - as ever, a fantastic import or microbrew - from the fridge. "Want one?"

[Littleton] Molly leaves, and it's down to just the two of them. Emily watches the Vdept cautiously for a long moment. It's a friendly sort of thing, riddled through with some quiet concern. It's easier, now, that the data-junkie has gone. Something about her rubs Emily the wrong way, or does today. It could just be today.

"That wasn't my fault," she says, accepting the beer from Chuck and pointing at the door through which Molly has just vacated the apartment. If she nudges her cabalmate a bit with her elbow or shoulder or hip, it's a casual comfort thing. (I'm here [you okay?]) It's not meant to intrude on whatever the other two were building.

"You should eat something," she says, gently. But instead of suggesting the dumplings, she pulls a peach out of the fridge. It's ripe enough to eat out of hand, and the sugars will help with his late-food-window boozing.

At some point, when the frayed edges have passed a bit, Emily will tell Chuck that she's happy for him but... "She's lovely, Chuck, but she's light on discretion. It makes me nervous."

That's all Emily will say to it, too. The restraint might tell Chuck more than her words.

[Carmichael] "No, it was probably mine," he says with a sigh and a shrug, and wraps an arm around Em's shoulders easily when she bumpse him with shoulder or elbow or hip - not sibling-close like he and Riley, but very definitely close friends none the less. "I just . . . don't like people being involved with cops and the like any more than is necessary, you know?"

He has his reasons, though he's never really spoken of them. Emily knows his old name, knows the Cliffs Notes of his history as he's offered it to her - more than Riley does, in fact - and can guess how much more dealing with that must have affected him than what he's showing. "Thanks," is all he says, and as he accepts the peach and opens his own beer.

Then there's the bit about Molly's lack of discretion, and he sighs. "I know, right? I'm hoping it's because she's new, and it'll settle down once she's got her feet under her and knows where she fits in with everything. But I'm being careful."

[Littleton] [ ... fade, with a "We'll talk about this later" vibe ... ]