The quiet in the room was suffocating, screaming at him to let it loose. To open up the barriers that were constricting the women he had finally come to full terms with in his mind, full terms with the fact that he did, truly, love her. He desperately wanted to take her from this too white room, from this too formal meeting, and bring back the passion she had lost in her eyes.

Instead, he forced himself to take a genteel seat on the couch next to her, overly aware of making sure he kept a proper distance between them, and took the cup of tea (tea) that she handed to him.

Merlin what he'd not give for a beer.

Taking a careful sip of it, he stifled the desire to bark a laugh at the rigid tone of voice she used and, instead, gave an answer as best he could.

"Work is hectic. We're still no closer to getting what we need and I'm feeling like my hands are tied. So are a number of my colleagues. We're up against bastards - sorry - wizards, who have no morals. No ethics. And we are expected to fight them with ethics and morals. It's a losing battle."

The moment he spoke his last word, the quiet became, once more, oppressive, the clink of china on china only grating on his nerves. Yet, he felt inexplicably tongue-tied at the moment.