- (sonrisa) wrote in repose, @ 2018-07-10 23:14:00 |
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The interrogation itself wasn't bad. Steve had endured far, far worse, but he was tired by the time he was dropped off at the Carriage House. His white shirt bore a little evidence of blood, but not enough to be worrisome. It was possible someone had gotten a papercut and then grabbed at him. Besides the evident exhaustion, he seemed none the worse for wear as he trudged up to the front door of the Carriage House. He pushed blond out of his face with a large palm and, after a deep breath from the stoop, went inside. "I'm home," he called out loudly enough to be heard at least one story up, and he began to wend his way toward the kitchen. First things first, he was going to make a pot of coffee that didn't taste like bureaucratic sludge. |