It’s far too early to be on the beach, but nonetheless Kristin’s out here letting the wind wreak havoc on her hair as she seems to have misplaced all her hair ties. Where they’ve vanished too, she frankly doesn’t know. Kristin watches Jared leave, almost feeling bad for him but nonetheless doubtful that the situation holds any significance beyond the obvious that someone, somehow, has lost a hand, and that it is not in fact a message from beyond old man Des.
“Well,” Mike begins, breaking the awkward silence. “I suppose we’ll have to hand this over to Gina!”
Breen’s face takes on a pained look; Kristin tries not to sigh.
“Oh come on, hand it over? No?” Mike tries again. “You two have no sense of humour.”
“That, or the joke just wasn’t very good,” Kristin points out. Mike looks a little put out, but more worryingly, Breen has just smiled wickedly.
“Yeah, and we should really get on with the task at hand,” he says when Kristin raises an expectant eyebrow at him. Mike lets out a bark of laughter.
“Good lord,” she mutters. “There’s two of you.” She almost goes to pick up the crate, but Mike beats her to it.
“Let me give you a hand with that,” he says, grinning. “Besides, I’ll take it straight to Gina and let you get on with things.”
“Wow, Boss, you’re a really handy guy to have around!” Breen comments. Kristin hits him on the arm. “Ow! Assault!”
“It’s your own fault for making awful jokes,” Kristin tells him.
“Now, now, let’s not point any fingers as to who started it!” Mike chides, a little breathlessly as he struggles slightly with the crate as they make their ways back to where they’ve parked their cars.
“You two are both the worst,” Kristin declares, throwing up her hands in defeat, and ignores the stupid giggling of her colleagues. It’s like working with children, honestly.