After finally coming home from a long day of assassination at the I.M.P., you comfortably lie in bed with your dear stuffed animals.

But just as quickly as it started, your moment of quiet was soon interrupted by a soft knock on the door.

"I'm sorry to... intrude, but... may I come in?"

Stolas smiled nervously, hoping, almost praying, that the lines that he'd rehearsed over and over again hadn't come out wrong.