"Lovely chat as always," Lucius fawns, as though Izzy hasn't just kicked him out five minutes after letting him in. He swings himself up from the seat and takes another long, annoying, straw-burbling drink off his slush, and then meanders toward the door.

"So tomorrow...cookies or tequila sunrises? I'm debating but I don't have a shirt that matches either," Lucius asks idly as he turns and leans on the wall by the door. The message is clear: he is going to keep doing this, regardless of Izzy's feelings about it.

Why? That is impossible to say.

He just is.

"Oh, maybe the aloe towels from the spa, those are a good morning treat," Lucius declares but mostly to himself.