"Martier, are you crazy? It's after eight. We can get it in the morning. What were you doing there anyway?"

She walked past him. "I'm tired, Tim. We can talk about it tomorrow."

He followed her, resisting an urge to grab her arm and turn her around. "Martier, I was very worried about you."

She sighed. "Why, because you couldn't keep tabs on me for five or six hours?"

"Let's try eight or nine," he snapped. "And I don't keep tabs on you. You always tell me ...