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Uh...What did you accuse him of?

Oh -- it is quite embarrassing, really. [But Chilton a) was a natural gossip and b) really did enjoy talking about himself. Especially when he could spin the facts into something self-aggrandizing.] Someone had sent a spy me. Imagine! He infiltrated my office, it was rather inconvenient. I mean, I assume he was a spy, his intent was to gather intelligence... Information isn't plied by all trades, you understand.

He was in imPort, too. Named Rincewind as the spymaster, but... Well, no. That simply isn't the case.

[The account perhaps would be more impressive if Chilton had Simon's name, but he did not. Still, maybe the air of absence would augment the mystery.]

[ Mark sits up, a feeling of unease pricking at the back of his mind. He nods - ]

What did he do, exactly? What happened?

His power -- it involved some kind of hypnosis. I keep my office under surveillance naturally, and soon after had the chance to review the footage, but even then in that moment while I was coming out of it... Well, a man of my profession tracks his thinking. I was disrupted. I knew I had been.

[The thought of this invasion still irritated him. The very fact that Simon had invaded his space, his mind... Chilton felt a sense of muted shattering within, an undeniable loss of control.]

He did get violent.

[ Aw, shit. ]

Violent? I assume you had people to deal with that.

I had a man on loan from Baelish. [Grumpily:] It was something of an impromptu thing, and he hadn't managed to save me from taking a hit from the intruder's stun gun.

[Stunner. Whatever.]

[ Somehow, Mark keeps himself from nervously correcting stun gun to stunner. ]

What happened to the intruder?

[A beat. And then, lightly:]

Baelish's man took care of him. I presume he is with the proper authorities now.

[ Mark struggles not to swallow audibly. Instead, he presses on, maybe imprudently - showing his interest too intensely - ]

Took care of him? That could mean a lot of things.

And what, I wonder, would your meaning be? [His cadence frosted the vowels.] Your focus appears to be dedicated to the man who assaulted me. That must mean something else altogether.

Uh -

[ Shit. Shit. ]

No, nothing like that. I just want to make sure that everything's taken care of. And if Baelish's man did cap him, that it's not going to come back to haunt you.

I really do not anticipate further complications from this man, but your concern for my personal well-being is dutifully noted.

[A neutral tone, but neutral was better than chilled.]

Unfortunately, there will always be problematic imPorts in our community.

Yeah. It's definitely a problem.

[ Mark can't help himself, though. He says, a moment later: ]

Is he dead, though?

Should we address this fixation of yours in session? I am guessing this stems from a larger concern.

[ Shit. He's really not going to get anything here, is he? And pushing more - it's a bad idea.

Okay. Fine. ]

No, it's okay. Just, uh, anxious. Are you all right, though?

I cannot say it was fun. Luckily my hospital in Maurtia Falls will have more precise security, something to better engage the imPort population -- this unappealing experience will hopefully bear no encore.

... What sort of security do you use? If I may.

[ He tries not to tense. ]

Magical wards around the building. Electronic security systems. Physical locks. Bodyguards on-staff and a private security firm on call. Guard animals.

[ And Imperial Security, in the person of Simon Illyan. And Miles. And Mark, now. Which means that, no matter his personal feelings towards Simon, he's obligated to save the man if he's in danger. And if he's dead...

Well. ]

I do not have the guard animals. [Will Graham doesn't count!] But I sincerely hope your stock includes tigers.

[He's only partially kidding, because if you're going to involve animals you might as well maximize the potential flamboyance. And what better way! Than! Tigers!]

I certainly did not intend to cause you any anxiety, Mark. Quite honestly -- I didn't think you would empathize in such a way. Something to keep in mind for future conversation.

[ Can you get guard-tigers? This isn't the time or the place to consider that. But something to file away for later. He'd definitely look cool if he had a guard-tiger. ]

Yeah, well. Like I said. I don't want you ending up in trouble.

[ Nailed it????? Friendship?????????? Fake-friendship...? ]

Uh, I appreciate the invitation to the party, anyway. I'll definitely come.

I look forward to seeing you there.

[Because it would be a fertile opportunity to discuss this matter further, specifically concerning Mark's fixation and apparent surge in explicit empathy. Given Mark's social anxiety, a party was the best ambush footing, and both topics warranted psychiatric investigation -- ideally with an unprepared Mark. As Chilton maintained the distinction of being Mark's psychiatrist, he was perfectly positioned.]

Bravo, again, on the social progress. Remember: even small steps denote accomplishment. And we can discuss the next steps in your upcoming session.

[ Mark's fingers just about itch with the impulse to get up, get going, find Illyan, see if it truly was him - but he forces himself to be patient. He takes his time answering: ]

Yeah. That sounds good. We're scheduled for next week, right? I'll see you then.

I will ensure that Mr. Mantle welcomes you in with open arms. [A beat. He cleared his throat, ready to clarify:] So to speak.

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