Into the Woods; [ for noseferatu ]

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[ If Gladiolus has been expecting a limousine to come and pick them up, he may be slightly disappointed to find nothing but an ordinary and unassuming looking cab waiting for them. The 'other half' doesn't have just one place, you see. The spider's web is vast, with a variety of safe and sticky threads, and tonight they are heading for a rather old part of town that tends to be crowded, alive, with pubs and coffee shops. There's no need to draw any more looks than his colourful guest doubtlessly will. ]

The driver is a bit of a grump - don't take it personal. I'm not hiring my personnel for their social skills or impeccable manners. [ Matter-of-factly stated as Jim opens the door in the back of the car for Gladiolus to hop in. ]

I hope you'll forgive me if I don't take you home. Until we know each other a tad better, the place where I keep my pajamas throughout the week will be the much wiser choice. [ It's the windows, you see. The ceiling-high panes of his favourite spot's living room that are granting a spectacular view at London's veins, but might turn out to be a bit of an inconvenience for someone of Gladiolus'... blood line. Jim doesn't know (yet) if sunlight induced pain is a myth or a fact, but this meeting isn't about maximizing his guest's discomfort. In his line of business, pain is a precision tool, not a byproduct of carelessness.

When the cab comes to a halt, it's in front of an old brick building, one of many. But please don't judge a hide-out by it's front door. Someone has taken great care to modernize the top floor, turn it into a safe place for a person who may have a reason to remain invisible for the public eye (or the high precision scopes of a long-range sniper rifle). ]

No elevator, unfortunately, but it's only two storeys. [ Smartphone in his left hand, fingers quickly typing and sending a eight digit number, he uses his right to gesture up the stairs. After you. ]