Closing the door he waits, hands folded, as she locks it before they can make their way down to the elevator, still on their floor from his arrival not fifteen minutes ago. Their reflections are thrown up against the mirrored walls in a hundred different angles as they step inside, and this time he hits the button for the lobby.

"Only because it's unused," he comments, watching through the corner of his eye the way his shoulder lightly bumps hers where they stand, flashes her a reflected grin, "Unless bald guys in orange are your idea of a party."