Faolan sits by himself in a cafe, nursing a coffee and picking at a sandwich that he had only really ordered because he should eat, but not because he wants to. He's worried about Lancelot, worried about how long he might be in jail. Worried about how long he's going to have to watch over Lily for him -- his first foray in attempting as much the night before hadn't gone nearly as well as he would have liked. She'd been nervous and cagey and had spent most of the night pacing and looking for Lancelot in every corner of the flat she could reach. As Faolan lay awake and listened to her padding around he wondered whether she might settle if he could do more for her. Something soothing? Maybe he should play for her...

So he'd headed out that morning to swing by his flat to pick up his guitar, and he's just heading back now, but his first cup of coffee is wearing off and after the night he's had, he needs this next one. He's half stashed the guitar case underneath the tablecloth out of habit, both to keep it out of the way as well as so that he doesn't have to answer any questions about it. Which is probably for the best that it's safely tucked out of the way, as he nearly spills his coffee and jumps out of his skin when he spots a familiar face stepping in to the cafe as well.

"Lancelot??"