"Hey," Nicky said, waving at Mira. "You're up..." he glanced at the clock on the microwave, "late." So was he, but she somehow doubted that everyone was having nightmares that night.

Then again, his had been on a regular basis, so the odds were that at some point, someone was going to have one as well.

"Or early," he said, glancing at the clock again.

He reached into the fridge that Jarvis kept aside specifically for him and Roxie - the heavy eaters on the team - and pulled out a huge jug of mead and a platter of prime rib. The ribs would be cold, but that was okay. He wanted comfort, not gourmet.

Nicky chose a stool that wasn't right next to Mira so she'd have breathing space.

"What are you working on?"