COMPLETE.
"Done and done," she said, dropping her ministrations over the frozen notes. "I'll go get it." She bustled off to find an appropriately-sized glass bottle, and soon fell right into the ebb-and-flow that was the rhythm of working with Cormac, interpreting vague gestures and grunts and tangential asides to bring him equipment, fetch him materials, hand a stirring rod and beaker to him at the right moment, and gently move trash to the bin as he muttered and grumbled and skulked his way around the lab. Like some scientific bridge troll, Cy thought, and grinned to herself.