Britannia, NY

The brush with Nathan left him shaken, and Arthur had just left him plain angry. He'd never cared for being told what he should think, much less what he should want. And here were two... well, strangers in one sense, at least, presuming to know him better than he knew himself. He'd been in Britannia longer than either, been alive longer than either, for that matter.

But he realized he was too worked up over the whole thing. So he was cooking. Cooking usually helped, and even when it didn't, at least he and Ivy had dinner when he was finished. He was making lasagna, which was one he'd made so often it was nearly foolproof. Besides, he could use the opportunity to think of what he might do for their anniversary, which was much more pleasant than thinking about Arthur.

...a weekend trip away, perhaps.