They had barely crossed the threshold when Napoleon's communicator went off.

"Duty calls. Make yourselves comfortable. If there are any supplies you need, get word to Miss Eklund."

Napoleon closed the door behind him as he left. Mark looked over the tiny office. Two desks, two chairs, one filing cabinet. The atmosphere was a bit tense and made the space feel even smaller.

"Miss Dancer?"

"Yes, Mister Slate?"

"Call me Mark. You seem - edgy."

April hesitated for about three beats before responding.

"I suppose I am. Can I ask something?"

Mark leaned against the wall.

"Certainly."

"Are we partners?"