[center][b]Tony[/b][/center]

When the man made no move to snatch the iPod back from him, Tony brought it closer for inspection. All the while aware of Cat's lingering gaze, he quickly recalled how the device came apart. He spent a large amount of time during his teenage years taking things apart and putting them together again once he figured out how they worked. The things Cat presented him with would be no challenge.

At the movement, Tony's eyes flicked up and watched the other man move across the room. Like a deer sensing something in the long grass, his eyes followed Cat everywhere he went. The kneeling came as a surprise, though. He had thought Cat enjoyed making a point of his superiority. Still, he didn't say a word about it. Instead he turned his gaze on the tool bag, leaning forward just slightly to look into it.

[i]Screwdrivers, pliers, wrenches... no soldering iron, that's to be expected.[/i] There was even a power drill and a few of the interchangeable heads. Tony looked at the cables and the computer and the iPod, a million thoughts running through his head so loudly he almost didn't hear Cat's words.

Finally, Tony found his voice. “These will do brilliantly,” he said, keeping his tone fairly monotonous for fear showing his emotions, particularly his excitement, would not end well. “Thank you, sir.” He would need somewhere clear to work, with lots of space and light... a magnifying glass would make everything a lot easier, but he could make do without. There had to be somewhere within the farm house he could work. But he couldn't leave the attic until Dog returned. “Do you... want to help?”

---

[center][b]Chris[/b][/center]

Chris examined the still-bleeding cut in her finger. For the past few weeks, the only times she saw blood that didn't immediately point to danger were when she or Tony injured themselves. She tripped numerous times towards the end, once right in front of Mercy and the others if she remembered correctly. Running through the forest earned her a few cuts, too. She looked up when Mercy spoke, then down at the cartoon band aid in her hand. Chris couldn't help but smirk as she gently took the plaster and applied it to the cut. “Thanks,” she said, wiggling her fingers. “I look real scary now.”

That laughter was infectious; it latched onto Chris and brought about a truly heartfelt grin. The very first in a long time. The smile was so covert, in fact, that she did not realise she was smiling until a blush crept back onto Mercy's cheeks. When the other woman tried to speak, only to find she was unable to because of her own smile, Chris laughed. It was a soft, rusty laugh, the kind that promised more but had been held at bay for so long it almost forgot what to do.

“It's cool,” she said, waving a hand. “I got it.” She plucked the wicker basket from its place beside the coop and slipped inside while the hens were pecking away at their grain. In quick time she eased into the den and filled the basket with eggs. According to the multitude of them, the hens had made the most of what grain they had during the time they were alone. 

Chris emerged from the coop within minutes, the odd strand of hay sticking to her hair and clothes, and presented Mercy with a basket of eggs. She chose not to question the woman's aversion to birds, but the locket... “That's pretty,” she said quietly, pointing to it.