"That's like saying 'I'll be your city council commissioner,'" Vlad teased, leaning forward, "Or, 'I'll be your comptroller--'"

"Okay, okay!" Teige laughed. 

"'I'll be your county health inspector, baby'--see? It just doesn't work," Vlad finished, and as Teige sank back into the corner between the arm of the couch and the back cushion, he arranged himself with his head resting in Teige's lap, reaching over to put out the cigarette.

"Anyway," he said after a time, while Teige ran his taloned fingers through Vlad's hair, "What do you think about helping us put the radios and fliers and such all over Escalus before the hearing? It's gonna take some legwork."

"Oh, sure, sure," Teige murmured. "Legwork is my specialty. Only--what's going to happen when the Assembly figures out the plot? Won't they just refuse to meet if they're being broadcast out, like?"

A puzzled expression came over Vlad's face. "Hm," he mused.

< Oh, > said Cynn Numair, < I'm counting on that. >

It was dark in the office except for a stark white light coming from the square lamp on his desk, and he was half-sitting on the edge of the desk, draped in a dark green robe with a small cathedral style radio tucked under one arm. Milou was quietly arranging the contents of a large laundry bin, stealing looks at the Cynn from past the fall of their dark hair. Vlad, not cowed at all by the Cynn's presence, stood straight and gave him something of a grin.

< That's so? > he said.

< Oh yes, > the Cynn agreed. < Don't worry about that. >