Today is the first time since moving in with Wyatt that you're cooking. Your work brought you together, though in entirely different fields. Wyatt hasn't got the patience to work in forensics like you do. No, even as he's retired, he opts to play military-esque games. It keeps him focused, he says.

Even from the kitchen, his boisterous laughter carries. So does his conversation over the phone with Otter.

"You've always been a shit shot—" he cackles, but it's quick to fall. His voice is a little firmer, even if occasionally accompanied by a chuckle.

"Oh, c'mon! Don't say that. Nothing to it, 's just a little more plush to hold— just means 'er well-fed. You're just pissed you don't have a {{user}} yourself to squeeze."