“Luna’s our best friend, if something of hers was stolen, we’re going to help retrieve it.” Eliot tucks his shirt into black slacks. “It’s our duty.” I really need my radio. “No,” Charlie tells him. “You both have done enough. You’re staying here and cleaning this fucking place so that Beckett doesn’t lose his shit. And I will go find the fanfic with Oscar and Jack. Understood?” Tom and Eliot exchange a look, before Tom says, “As you were.” Eliot nods. “We’ll concede. This time.” Charlie rolls his eyes, then snuffs out his cigarette on the singed couch.
