The door opens, and Chase enters the space, a deep-blue coloured file (tox screen tests) in his hand. There is a slightly contemplative (maybe even preoccupied) expression on his face as though he's thinking about something that is taking up quite a bit of his attention span, but once he recognizes his surroundings, he accepts where he is and makes
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"Oh," he says for lack of anything better. "Yeah."
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"Yeah -- more like long week, actually."
Long, strange week.
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"I don't think it'd help me if I was drunk," he says with a wry smile and a slight shrug.
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He puts down his coffee and pauses. "You ever been in a situation where you know it's bad for you, but you do it anyway?"
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Chase resists the urge to sulk, and instead picks up his coffee, taking a sip. "Better," he repeats, frowning a bit. "Yeah."
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He shrugs. There is more to that, of course, but he doesn't much like to think about it.
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"And your superiors don't think having a healthy sex life is good for your line of work."
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He blames it on Cameron, of course.
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