"It's okay." They didn't often meet in private. Jamie could count the times they had met without having anything crisis related to discuss on one hand and he doubted that Ryan found that in the least regrettable.
"It's nine in the evening, 9.37pm." National Security studied the man on the bed silently before he turned away abruptly to give Military a moment to compose himself. He found a clean glass in the kitchen eventually and filled it with water and took it to Ryan.
Copying, imitating, repeating motions he'd seen mortals go through, he wandered off again. This time to the bathroom to look for a towel. There was one left. "You might want to take a shower," he called out.