"Mm, calm-ish," Jessica confirmed absently. She was glancing over some requisition forms, trying to estimate how much stuff she really needed in the upcoming year. Pens and things like that? No big. But ammunition and weapons were a bit pricier. And she did like gym workouts but she'd gone through a few more punching bags then she'd meant to this year and--
Wait. What? The requisition forms were dropped, instantly forgotten. (She should've known this was going to be unpleasant-- it very nearly always was when he phoned. Or thought.) "Um... what have we been doing exactly?" she asked, brows knitting together in confusion. Did he mean skyping? Did he mean talking? Did he mean fucking? Damn but he was a crap communicator.