Phil cracked an eye open. He’d fallen asleep at his desk (doing the ever popular paperwork) but he awakened immediately at the feel of fingers in his hair. “‘Lo.” he said softly, still half out of it.
“Go home, go to bed, Phil,” she said softly, familiar because they were alone. “It’ll still be there tomorrow.”
“But moving.” Phil sighed. He had a couch in his office, he could just crash there. Wouldn’t be the first time.
“I know,” Summer coaxed, “but you will sleep better at home. Come on. Leave the office. The interns think you live here.”