[Those freaking hamsters, so blissfully unaware of a world outside the one where they are coddled and adored by humans, where their larger raccoon brethren see to their needs if no one else is immediately available, are having a hell of time. They're the most delighted things around, currently. Will scratches the back of his head while his other hand slides up his hip, a mess but a thoughtful one. He already extended the same number and name to Kay that he'd extend to anyone from Baltimore should a certain someone pop back up, but if she's been shuffled off to Xavier's and no one has given him a call about it, he assumes she didn't use it.]
Does he know where you live? Have you ever made it obvious over the Network? [Did Will stumble across a conversation wherein Edgeworth made that much obvious? He's not sure. He's trying to run through his Rolodex of Network conversations, made foggier and less compliant by the situation, by Yuri being...not who Will had believed to be. He turns on his heel, figures it's not the worst idea to give Edgeworth a moment to sit in the midst of chaos, and follows those questions up with another, immediately:] Want some coffee?
[That would be an invitation to meander into the kitchen right after him, which is a Pretty Big Damn Deal. Will doesn't make it to be that, shoves away that idea entirely, plays it cool, casual, his voice less of that throaty grumble. Shit. Who cares how late it is, he's going to have the strongest coffee in the house and no one can stop him. Even if Edgeworth doesn't want coffee, there is...something...somewhere...he can graze on if he needs it.
Office hours are for patients. My kitchen is always open to friends.
N o p e.
But Will's kitchen is apparently open to Edgeworth, right now, regardless of whatever "I told you so"s can be tossed around. It's only polite. No one, even those humans who like to think of themselves as gods, is invincible.]
no subject
Does he know where you live? Have you ever made it obvious over the Network? [Did Will stumble across a conversation wherein Edgeworth made that much obvious? He's not sure. He's trying to run through his Rolodex of Network conversations, made foggier and less compliant by the situation, by Yuri being...not who Will had believed to be. He turns on his heel, figures it's not the worst idea to give Edgeworth a moment to sit in the midst of chaos, and follows those questions up with another, immediately:] Want some coffee?
[That would be an invitation to meander into the kitchen right after him, which is a Pretty Big Damn Deal. Will doesn't make it to be that, shoves away that idea entirely, plays it cool, casual, his voice less of that throaty grumble. Shit. Who cares how late it is, he's going to have the strongest coffee in the house and no one can stop him. Even if Edgeworth doesn't want coffee, there is...something...somewhere...he can graze on if he needs it.
Office hours are for patients. My kitchen is always open to friends.
N o p e.
But Will's kitchen is apparently open to Edgeworth, right now, regardless of whatever "I told you so"s can be tossed around. It's only polite. No one, even those humans who like to think of themselves as gods, is invincible.]