Colin descended the stairs, then looked around the first floor in confusion. No one in the living room, an empty kitchen. Then he heard voices from down the basement stairs, though not distinct enough to make out words. That was odd. There wasn't much down there -- storage, his new office, the laundry, some neglected exercise equipment. He was reassured to see that the last set of boxes he'd brought down still sat in the hall at the top of the basement stairs, the 'Textbooks' box on the bottom. Colin hoped Beth's friend didn't suddenly develop an interest in old dry legal materials.<br/><br/>Well, whatever they were doing didn't need his help, unless maybe they came across a spider. Which meant he could do something he'd been wanting to do for the last hour, but hadn't dared. With exaggerated stealth he crept into the kitchen and slid a long-handled spoon from the drawer. The chowder was bubbling slowly, sending bursts of fragrant steam into the air. How could any man resist temptation like that? Bethany led a pretty busy life, which didn't leave her that much time to cook. Most of the time they shared the job, keeping things pretty simple. Which meant the occasions when she went all-out like this were all the more special.<br/><br/>He blew across the steaming spoonful of soup and tasted it, letting the thick cream drizzle across his tongue. Then footsteps from behind him alerted him to the fact that he'd been caught. He turned, caught red-handed, with a smile on his face. Only something was wrong. Bethany looked flushed, upset. He dropped the smile immediately, falling automatically into his normal protective mode.<br/><br/>"Bee? What's the matter, honey? Is there a problem with your friend?" The evening had barely started, and already something had gone wrong.