<strong>"Yeah, I'll lock up if I leave. Hopefully I'll be gone by the time you get back, 'cause that'll mean my place is back up to snuff. Or it might mean I have a lead.  Hey, it could happen."</strong><br/><br/>He nods solemnly, and the last you see of him he's already turning his attention back to his notes, adding a few more bits to something as if idly trying to figure out how puzzle piece A fits into array B to help form picture C.  Thus and so to work, and the streets are strangely quiet tonight. It's as if the neighborhood is holding its collective breath waiting for the other brick to drop...<br/><br/>Not that anything seems amiss at the teahouse. The girls working the front counter greet you cheerfully enough and report that Ingress is probably waiting for you upstairs, with a few extra giggles and saucy winks to remind you that cats have<em>very</em>good hearing.  And yes, your intended is in her office, but when you arrive she's staring listlessly out into the night through her window instead of doing paperwork. Her expression goes from 'someone kicked my puppy' to 'funeral of distant relation' as she turns to greet you.<br/><br/><strong>"Hey."</strong><br/><br/>Absolutely no pep and enthusiasm in her tone.<br/><br/><strong>"Did you get what you needed?"</strong>