She told him about the guardpony's quiet knocks, and his desire to simply slip it under the door. Fancy Pants furrowed his brow in thought and began pacing, the sheets following along beside him. “What’s your game?” he said to himself. “Why the new charges?” He suddenly stopped in his tracks, and looked back at Fleur. “This is a good thing,” he said. “This may work in our favor.” He skimmed the documents again, before setting it back on the desk. “They've gone too far. Yes, I can deal with this. Fleur, dear, do you think you could find a source of good espresso? I don't think I'll be getting any sleep tonight.” He turned his ears as thunder echoed through the room. “Never mind. I forgot there was a storm scheduled for tonight. I'll just go without.”