It took him ten minutes to walk to her house and that was ten minutes too long for Tim. At least, while it was night. He wasn’t all that fond of night when he was alone and even less so when the dead were involved in it. Once at the door, he rang the doorbell once, then twice, hoping that it would open soon. Because it was Irish, it did.

Her hair was up, leaving her face exposed so there could be no denial about how not happy she was to see him. “Tim, you have to know what time it is.”

“Aren’t those the same pajamas you had a year ago?” Tim asked, looking over the frumpy pale green bottoms and long sleeved top.

Irish scowled at him, absently pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I was asleep. Like any normal person would be. Like you would be.”

“I’d like to be asleep too,” Tim agreed.

Scoffing, she waved him in and the close proximity her hands came to his body were what really ushered him further in, keeping from being accidentally touched. “You know I have an important meeting tomorrow. It’s all we talked about last time we talked!”

“Because that’s what you wanted to talk about.”

“Well it’s very important!”