Mason paused in her thoughts, wondering how Nicholas and Constance were doing;
it had been a few days since she'd seen them, and she worried that Constance's
depression was growing, perhaps getting the best of her.  She glanced towards
Brutis, lounging on the edge of the couch; he lifted his head, meeting her
eyes with his own and she rose, intent on checking on the pair.

She knocked on the door of Nicholas' and Constance's apartment, standing
where the camera could see her, or at least where she thought it would be
– she honestly couldn't tell, for it was well hidden.  She marveled at Nick's
expertise as she glanced around the hallway, trying to spot any telltale
signs of the security system.

Nick looked up from his computer, glancing at the console, a slight frown
on his face.  He absently brushed his bangs out of his eyes, his face otherwise
totally unanimated.  Mason… He smiled, disabling the lock on the front door
as he called down the hallway, “Please come in, Ms. Weston.”

 Mason opened the door and walked in, stopping just inside the entryway,
waiting.  “Nick?”

Nick took in the disarray of his workroom, opening a drawer and dragging
everything on his desk into a drawer with a sweep of his hand.  If anything
shattered, he didn't notice.  He turned off the monitor, a slight frown crossing
his face as he noticed his reflection on the now dark computer screen; he
sighed, getting up to meet his guest.

'”I'll be right there.”

Mason shifted from one foot to the other as she waited, glancing around.
 Nick walked down the hallway towards her, scratching the back of his head
distractedly, seemingly oblivious to Mason as she walked towards him.

“Oh, there you are.”

Nick watched his feet, counting the steps to the front door, musing the possibility
of projectile weapon placement; something he'd been meaning to do, but hadn't
quite gotten around to.  Seeing Mason had reminded him, for he was considering
installing a similar system for her, if he could work out the specifics.
 He looked up at the sound of her voice as if surprised, seeing her raise
a hand and wave to him.

Nick smiled in return.  “Hello, Ms. Weston…”

“Hi. You know, Nick, you can call me Mason.”

A second look of surprise spread across his face, as if such a thought would
have never occurred to him.  “I may?  Oh… thank you, Mason.”  He smiled,
pleased.

“You're welcome.”  She paused, waiting to see if he had any questions for
her, then continued.  “Tell me how you are, and Constance, and the dogs…”

An expression of concern crosses his face as he considered possible reasons
for the visit, unerringly returning to the same conclusion.  There must be
something wrong with the system he'd set up for her.  Imagined worst-case
scenarios; he didn't think he'd forgotten anything, but better to be sure.
 “Have there been any issues with the security system?  I hope not…”

Mason shook her head.  “No, it's wonderful.  Lets go sit down somewhere”

A blank look crossed his face, animation returning by degrees.  He smiled.
 “Oh yes, of course.  I was being rude.  Pardon me.”

She smiled warmly as she answered.  “No, Nick, you're never rude.”

Nick glanced down, lost in thought, then looked up again, smiling and gesturing
with a hand towards the direction of the living room.  “This way…”

Mason followed, grinning.  He walked into the living room, pushing aside
blueprints he'd been pouring over, making space for her to sit on the couch.
 Curious, she leaned forward, wondering if she could tell when they were.

“Please... have a seat.  Ahhhh... would you like something to drink?”

Mason pointed to the blueprints, her interest getting the better of her as
she sat in the space he's cleared off for her.  “No, thank you… I'm fine.
What are you working on?”

Nick follows the direction of her glance, kneeling and spreading the papers
out for her to peruse, if she so chose.  “Oh, yes.  I'm looking over the
structural integrity of this building, to make sure I haven't missed anything.”

She looked at them carefully, but certainly didn't see any structural problems.
 “That's very diligent of you, Nick.”

Nick rocks back on his heels, remembering belatedly that she'd asked him
a question.  “I am well, thank you.  Constance is of greatest concern…  She
does not leave her room, not even to eat.  I'm at a loss for how to proceed,
feeling useless.  The dogs are well.  Would you care for me to fetch them?”

“I'd like that, but it sounds like Constance is the more urgent thing… I
should talk to her; or at least try.”

Conversation was never Nicholas' strong point, the cadence and rhyme continued
to elude him.  He paused as he caught up with her prior statement, frowning
for a moment, then smiled again.  “I don't much enjoy the thought of missing
something.”
“You can come in an talk with us then.”  She thought about her words the
moment she'd spoken them, knowing intuitively that wasn't what he'd meant.
 “Oh, maybe you meant the building.  I'm sorry.  I suppose I'm worried about
her too.”

Nick felt the familiar tightening in his midsection, horrified with himself.
 “Oh no… I was referring to being diligent.  I would… never… I would…”  He
trailed off into silent stammers.

Mason watched him quietly, an odd expression crossing her face.  “I know,
I knew the minute I said it I'd misunderstood.  I'm sorry.”

Calmed by her words, he continued with the conversation.  “Yes, I am very
worried about her.  Any assistance would be invaluable, Mason.”

“I don't know if there's anything I can do, but, I can talk to her and see.”
 She put her hand over his, trying to reassure him.

He nodded, wondering what the expression on her face related to, wondering,
again, if he'd offended her.  “Yes, Perhaps she needs a friend.  I seem to
be rather lacking in some capacities.”  He smiled.  “Let me see if she is
willing.”

Mason nodded, returning her hand to her lap.  “Thank you, I hope she is.”

He rose to his feet in one fluid motion, scanning the room with an intent
look on his face.  He noticed it was rather dark in the room, and turned
the knob on the wall, adjusting the illumination to an easier level.  Concentrating,
he looked around for anything else he'd forgotten, then walked down the hall
to let the dogs out – they were very comforting.  He whispered to them, “Go
on, go play with Mason.  Be good.”

He watched the dogs, moved with quiet affection as they scampered excitedly
into the living room to keep his company company, then knocked lightly on
the bedroom door, entering after a short, respectful pause, speaking with
her in low, soothing tones.

Mason watched him leave, laughing as the six ferocious puppies bounded into
the room in well-mannered, but barely restrained exuberance, each vying with
the other for her attention.

Nick returned, the color washed from his face, though he smiled warmly, accompanied
by the sound of muted sobbing.

Mason looked up, concerned.  “Will she talk to me.”

“She is not herself.  Please excuse the delay.  She does not wish to relocate,
but would be pleased to have your company in the bedroom.  I shall be retiring
for a bit… to get… to…”  His eyes closed, and he took a deep breath.  “I
have a few errands to run.  Forgive me.”
“You're going someplace you can't tell me?”  Ever increasing worry colored
Mason's words.

“No, not at all.  I merely have a few items to pick up, and wished to let
her speak with you privately.  She needs that.  Yes.  Perhaps that would
help.”

“Okay.  Tell me where you're going to be though.”

Animation dropped from his face all at once, and he looked at the ceiling.
 He reached into his pocket and too out a scrap of paper and a pencil, jotting
down both his cell phone and beeper numbers.  “I will be downtown, shopping…
but not in a specific establishment.  The former is my phone number, and
the later my pager number.”

“Okay, thank you.  I won't call unless it's really important.”

Nicholas shook his head, meeting Mason's eyes with gentle urging, trying
hard not to cry.  “If she needs me for anything, no matter how seemingly
inconsequential, please call me.  She is very important to me.”

“I understand, Nick… I'll call if she asks for you at all.”

“Thank you.”  He smiled, handing her the paper holding his breath as he tried
to control his emotions just a little longer.  As soon as she accepted the
numbers, he extended his hand a second time to help her up.  She took his
hand, feeling his struggle for composure.

“I'll do my best for you and her, I promise.”  She stood, still holding his
hand.  “Nick… one last thing.”

He nodded quickly.  “I wish… I wish I were better equipped to help her.”
 He calmed, listening expectantly for her to go on.

“You're good at what you're good at.”  Her voice slipped to a whisper, not
wishing Constance to catch her words as she continued.  “Do you have any
idea where Sinclaire would have gone?  Miss Semingworth can't find him.”
 She kept a hold of his hand, looking at his face as she asked him.

A brief twitch touched the side of his lips.  After a short pause he whispered
back, “This does not surprise me.  He is quite inventive, is Mr. Sinclaire.
 Were I to speculate, I would venture outside of the city.  He was convinced
Mr. Thorne had not suffered the final death.  Foolish, I suppose, though
understandable, under the circumstances.

“I am very sorry Ms. Semingworth cannot locate him – if I may be of any assistance,
please let me know.”

Mason nodded, releasing his hand.  “Thank you… I'll see you when you return
from your shopping then.”  She wanted to hug him, he looked so forlorn, but
she couldn't quite bring herself to do it.  “Do I need to do anything with
the security system?”

Nick trembled slightly with continued effort not to shed the tears building
behind his eyes, gesturing up the hallway.  “Constance is in the bedroom.
 No. I have a remote that will activate and deactivate it.  I shall be back
shortly.”  He brushed his bangs out of his face, a heavy silence weighing
on his thoughts.  “Feel free to help yourself to anything you like.”

Mason headed into the bedroom, calling over her shoulder, “Thank you.”

Nick watched her until she was out of sight, letting the shiver work its
way though his system as soon as she was gone, walking to the door quickly.
 Alone at last, he let the tears fall.