Re: Kit & Tory: Area 52
Kit didn't think of himself as especially predictable. He had habits, so did most people. But he wasn't used to ruts, and he was inoculated against too much predictability by the combination of factors that made him up. Underneath - not too far underneath - the veneer of polite, Scottish sensibility, was the youth who had grown up in the heat of the South. There were no tests, no criteria, simply observation over the lip of a coffee mug.
"Oh," Kit said, surprised. "No, the er, unwell people were in the hospital I worked before I moved here. We don't see much of people in the lab. Or so I'm told." He smiled, as if to soften the negative. But he laughed willingly at Tory's list, the joke rolled out smoothly enough that it could be picked up easily enough. "A very sorry thing. You ought to let the CEO know," he said, with a wry little sideways look at Tory.
"Yes, it was er, a joke," Kit looked a little apologetic. "Murder does make the dry a little more exciting, I suppose. I'm not much of a fan of murder in general but in novels, I can make allowances." Dryly.