"Hey." Tony was on his feet, and his hands covered hers to take over where she left off because she couldn't be trusted not to get melancholy. "Leave it," he interpreted, "What's the worst that could happen?" Of course, his job was rarely time sensitive. Genius couldn't be rushed. Why should anything else? He left her to follow, practically skipping with extra lift from a beat of his wings, just as happy as he was being complimented to pull his own clothes off. There was a lamp by the house that he took, just in case, and a crocodile lounging on the riverbank practically cleared of reeds for the paper that he nudged the nose of to encourage back to sleep before he got irritable.