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“Nettle, are you ready to go?” Lewis asked. He stood by his desk, jacket on and keys in hand, but waited for Nettle to give the go-ahead. Nettle looked up at him and nodded, getting to his feet to make getting picked up easier. Boy, he was certainly getting used to that these days; it almost felt normal. “Yeah, I’m good to go,” he replied, before glancing in the other direction. “Sheila?” “I’m gonna stay here,” she decided. She stretched, which did nothing, and got to her feet, even though they weren’t quite touching the ground. “Don’t wanna risk that hand-meldy thing happening again with Thomas,” she added, waving her right hand for emphasis. Nettle nodded and, after relaying her answer to Lewis, was scooped up and placed gently in Lewis’ breast pocket. The viri made himself comfortable as the detective bid his coworkers farewell and walked out of the office. Nettle couldn’t help but mull over what he and Sheila had been discussing. The case had been interesting, sure, but it