Who: Shane and John What: Boyd asked John to talk to Shane. Where: 107 When: After this. Warnings: None.
John flipped off his computer screen and groaned. Dragging a hand down his face, he rose from his chair and grabbed two beers from the refrigerator in preparation for his guest’s arrival. Hell, the only reason he knew the guy’s name was because Worthington had demanded background checks on all the inhabitants. He had dug up information on all the renters, current and past, until he was swimming in manila envelopes and phone calls from Bob over at the FBI. Bob had not been happy to find John snooping about the system. John had given him another name, and Bob had quite happily sodded off to catch the guy.
Tossing back a good bit of beer in one gulp, John strode toward the door and opened it when Shane knocked. “You’re Shane, right?” he asked, offering the other man the closed bottle without hesitation. “Feel free to sit wherever.” He gestured vaguely at the living room and kitchen, figuring Shane would just pull up a chair wherever he felt most comfortable. And that’s where John would make himself comfortable, too.