The place was not at all what Robin had expected, considering the associations he made when he thought of a building of the law. He was used to the dark, dank gloom of Nottingham Castle, a feeling of oppression and stagnation. It had been a bit better when Marian's father was sheriff than it had been under Vaizey, but there was only so much that could be done with such a monstrosity of a structure. However, the FBI building was quite the opposite. The first thing he noticed was how bright it was; well-lit and with an abundance of white paint. Also, rather than chains and other menacing tools, the walls were hung with a few plaques, framed newspaper articles, and a couple of display cases. And, while everyone they passed had the air of someone on a serious task about them, they still received some smiles and nods-- a far cry from the shifty looks of underhanded dealings which he had often noted back home.
They soon found the office to which they had been directed by a businesslike, yet pleasant agent-- a definite improvement over the castle guards. When Marian paused outside the closed door, he smiled down at her. As if on cue, the door opened then, making Robin wonder if the agent they spoke with had called ahead to announce them. At first, Booth seemed a little off, but it did not seem to be directed at them. Still, perhaps something had come up.
"This isn't a bad time, is it?" Robin asked carefully.