To say that it's been a terrible month for Faolan as well is a bit of an understatement. With the lack of any steady sort of casework -- he tells himself that it's just a slow month, that people must be vacationing, enjoying their last few weeks of official summer before kids go back to school and universities start up again, although he isn't certain how much that's fooling anyone. At least he's got the Guardian gig to fall back on but that's not exactly steady employment either. And considering his only other talent besides his work as a Private Investigator is -- no. He's not going to even think about it.

So there he finds himself, parked on a bench Danson Park since he might as well (he's in the area), an ever-present coffee in his hands, intent on keeping himself to himself -- much the same reason that she's there really. To find some sort of an escape. Unfortunately for the pair of them, they seem to have sought out the same spot. And Faolan for one has no intentions of vacating elsewhere.

"...I'm not in your seat, am I?" he asks, looking up at the newcomer. It's becoming a decidedly familiar greeting, to strangers.