The most obnoxious thing about Porphyria's question was that he had no answer for it. He hadn't had particular plans today that involved his wife (it would have been foolish to plan anything after a night shift; she would have been too tired to really enjoy it if he'd deprived her of her sleep) and he didn't want to bother inventing any. On the other hand, he took his sister's point — if he had no plans with his wife, it was rather neurotic to be so preoccupied with where she was and whether she was late coming home.

He glanced down at the teacup that Christa had pushed in his direction. They definitely thought he was being neurotic; Phyri's barb about the asylum had a seed of genuine sentiment in it. Oz scowled.

"Thank you both for being such an enormous help," he bit off, then stormed out of the room.

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