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They're both up and somehow Harley manages to get into the whole outfit -- coat, tie and the porkpie hat (useful in all kinds of contingencies) -- before she's got her sweater untangled from the bedclothes. More of those tricks of the trade. He waits semi-patiently by the door, eyes on the feed.
Somehow they both know the plan without discussion. Harley's officially on "stress leave" but quick study that she is, Veronica's learned that neither of those words mean anything when History dials your pager. It's the birth of a stringer.
He's heading out to Cover the Story, whatever that may turn out to mean here in Tara. He's thinking a college town deep in the heart of the Sunbelt, this could get interesting. Veronica's telepathically adding yeah and good luck without your trusty local guide to point you down the right streets.
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