Re: Nish/James - 7:30, near the punch
"I'm quite alright with just a party," James noted, pouring himself a cup of radioactive-looking punch. This stuff looked like petrol, but it tasted like apples when he took a sip. It was perhaps a party more fitting for primary school students, but again, better than demons rising up from the earth or coming out of the television screen. He really wouldn't put much past this place.
He wasn't particularly hungry but he took some of the feetloaf anyway, breaking off a piece with his fork and tasting it - not bad, not bad. The deviled eggs were next, he decided to try one of those. "Work went well enough." And no, James wasn't an idiot - he could tell it wasn't actually a question inquiring about how his day had gone, but instead a glimpse of Nishka's frustrations. Unfortunately, he couldn't do much to soothe them - he wished she wasn't upset about how he had to dive into a job he'd just received in his actual field after three or four years of being forced to tend bar once his witness protection programme stipend ran out, but apparently she was.
The average work week for a psychiatrist was about 48 hours; he may be pulling a little more than that now but it'd settle soon enough. They both just had to be patient, as he'd already mentioned to her. "What about you, win any cases?" he asked, sipping his punch.