And within the snap of a finger, Paul seemed to shift from hero to zero.  Jemma.  Charlette actually asked about his ex.  Which in reality, he couldn’t blame her.  What kept gnawing at him, however, was why did it matter to her whether he had fun or was back together with Jemma?  Why should she care one way or the other?<br/><br/><i>Oh, for fuckin’ cryin’ out loud, Old Man!  Do I need to draw you a fuckin’ picture?!  Did the possibility that Charlette might actually like your dumb ass ever cross that pet rock-like brain of yours?!  Shit, now I’m pissed!  Later, Old Man.  Gonna spin me some Rage Against The Machine, thanks to you.</i><br/><br/>Her chosen tone of voice, although subtle, was still detectable.  Close to being on edge.  Real close.  Paul shook his head, accompanied by a sigh.  “We met for lunch, but that was it,” he responded.  “She’s gonna, um, wait things out.”<br/><br/>Paul casually looked at the floor.  And while he was at it, his toes, too.