A few weeks had passed since Darby had last purposely sought out Athena; he'd not gone a day without thinking of her. Fortunately, for sake of his sanity, he'd been allowed to go back to the club and at least train on the pitch, though investigations into his alleged ivolvement with the betting was still in progress. He had, however, paid his fine (though not without much ill-spirit) and the powers that be had determined that he, and the other two lads (though he never so much as spoke to them anymore) were free to join in at training; in the meantime his every move was restricted outside the club and he never knew when an official would drop by to check on him.

So, when the knock on the door came, he let his feet flop from the coffee table - two wooden crates with a board across them - to the floor and, scratching at his bare stomach, he let loose a mighty yawn as he yanked the door open.

"Yeah?" He paused, his eyes widening a touch. "Ath? Umm..." His eyes fell to the plate she held and then back to her face, his brow twitching a bit.