They were quiet for some time. Smoothing over the wood with fine grain sandpaper, he let the rhythm of it sync with Cami's slow, dozy breaths.

"I thought Caroline said there was a meeting with the witches this morning?"

"They're a bit more reasonable when Elijah goes with her, and I'm a more effective deterrent from a distance at this point in the negotiations."

"And Davina hates you."

"And Davina hates me," he agreed, thumbing over the wood for any continuing roughness to the grain.

"Can't imagine why."

He rolled his eyes. "It's not like I killed the boy. He's perfectly well."

"Funny how those pesky threats of maiming and murder don't just go away when you're done with them."

"Yes," he drawled in that way he knew particularly irritated her. "That's the point of the endeavor."

"I'm just saying, not everyone's patient enough to forgive death threats and hybrid bites."

Klaus paused, subtly and not for long, but enough that Cami was sure to notice. She always noticed. Trading out the spit for the trough, he considered the necessity of attaching a handle. "I see someone's been telling tales of Mystic Falls."

Cami snorted inelegantly. "That place sounds crazier than New Orleans."

"Of course, sir," she acknowledged right as the door to his office swung open without any warning.

"What the hell, Steven?"

Hannah Shepard had been charmingly brash when she was eighteen and he was twenty. He'd found her less and less so as the years had passed.

"Shut the door if you're going to yell at me about something classified."

She didn't slam the door, but she shut it with the same leashed aggression she'd always had. "You know what I'm talking about."

"Believe it or not, I stopped keeping track of reasons I might have pissed you off decades ago." Hackett gestured towards one of the slightly singed chairs in front of his barely cracked desk.

The way she sat made it seem like she was still standing, spine straight and shoulders squared. "When exactly were you planning on informing me the Normandy reported in?"

"How did--you went to the hospital this morning."

"It's a quiet time to visit. She's usually awake by now." Hannah leaned forward without losing a centimeter of rididity. "Instead, she was still fast asleep, and a turian pulled a pistol on me."

"Well, she probably had a late night."

"That's not the part I take exception to."

Trang knocked twice on the door before entering with a tray. She set it down on the desk with an air of general disapproval.

"Muffins?" Hannah was understandably confused.

"Choc chip," Trang reluctantly informed her. "Anything else, sir?"

"No, thank you, Lieutenant." He offered her a grateful half-smile. "That will be all."

The coffee tasted like battery acid's less attractive cousin, but he'd grown almost used to it.