[ You drive?, Keith asks, and Sion's response is a humorous: ] You do not drink tea? [ —before his eyes fall closed, lashes fanning over the curve of his cheek as he drinks deeply from his own cup, wondering all the while if the younger man will not follow suit. After all, the tea had been neither a clever ploy or prop: it simply is a reprieve. ]

The final leg of the shipment's journey will be to the Badlands. [ Eyes open, fixing upon the porcelain cup which jerks about—but notably, does not spill—guided by Keith's own hand (the Director certainly hopes this is no example of the Killjoy's piloting), and after moment's worth of both entertainment and deliberation, Sion pronounces...! ]

Keith.

[ —somehow, the intonation is both gentle and very much pointed at once. ]

You are free to make yourself comfortable, you know.