"Sounds like a plan," Drake agrees, claiming a spoon and helping himself to a little sugar before backing up to sit down at the kitchen table.

"So, weapons?" And they discuss that for awhile, what to use and basic safety when swinging at each other with actually sharp things, while they sip their coffee. It's weirdly domestic, but things are normal. He didn't screw things up the night before, he just has to watch himself from now on.

Eventually, the coffee's gone, and Drake sets his mug in Ephemera's sink and stretches one more time before resigning himself to the fact he has to face the rest of the world. Maybe Liv, if she hasn't already left for the clinic. What time is it, anyway?

He checks his phone and it's still early, but she was probably gone. He's oddly relieved about that, and there's the guilt again. No. No avoidance. Go home, get changed, get your weapons, he tells himself. After that, you can go visit her at the clinic. Plan something for dinner. Even if something tells him he's probably going to wind up back here later tonight, after Ephemera talks to Washington.

He'll be here. He promised.

"Okay. I'll meet you in an hour." That's enough time to get breakfast and his head on straight. Ephemera nods his agreement and follows Drake to the door to see him out.

They open it to see Ephemera's neighbor in her doorway, doing the same thing with her overnight guest.

W h o o p s.