Lanky shoulders lift, and he finally slides a look over them, to find her.

Sitting there on a barstool at the end of the universe, leaning on the bar like she was born to sit right here. Drinking a martini, like it's the only thing she could possibly be doing.

His eyes drop to her glass, consider it, push it away again when he looks back up.

"Shed door."

His shed, his father's shed, a random shed -- he doesn't elaborate. "Bit roomier in here than I expected."

Than the shed. Clearly. "More alcohol, too."