troywindsor

[troywindsor]

H2O: JUST ADD WATER | 1x01 “Metamorphosis”

[troywindsor]

"Yeah, but hey, free morphine, right?" One way to describe Camilla would be amusing. That was what probably had made them, somehow, become friends. Despite how traumatizing the past few weeks had been for her specifically, here she was, still standing, with the same dry humor that characterized her. Handling pain better than most people he had ever met, himself included. Troy placed the hat on his head, not caring that people would soon start sending him looks and then handed over the cigarettes.

He grinned at her, lifting his hands up as if in surrender. "Actually, been laying low too. Have to be up early tomorrow as well, so." No drugs for him either, though it was less attached to waking up early and more to the fact that he would have to drive the next morning, solely to pick up one of her best friends. Troy waved the bartender over. "Can you do martinis, at least?"

Cami lifted her shoulder dismissively as if to wave off his comment. "Spent three weeks trapped in medical hell. Might as well have been a fucking sabbatical." Truthfully, she thought, he should've been more surprised she hadn't been there sooner. She snorted softly, barely audible above the music blaring around them. "Just tell everyone it's an exclusive." The corners of her mouth pulling into a ghost of a grin. "They'll all claw each other's fucking eyes out just to keep up." Making the attorney general into some kind of trendsetter was the least she could do after everything he'd done for her. Celestina had filled her in on every detail, and Cami was simply going down the list saying thank you, in her own way.

Her hand lifted, motioning for the cigarettes. "Hand me one of those fuckers." Taking the pack from Troy's grip, she plucked a cigarette free before handing them back over to him. "Laying low, can't mix Oxy and champagne." Not when TMZ was still breathing down her neck.

[troywindsor]

"I never said that." It was just surprising because Troy's connections and line of work gave him the advantage to recognize so many of the players in that world whenever he showed up to have a drink at her bar. She was surrounded by them, whether she realized it or not and he hated to think it would eventually catch up to her. Regardless of how little care Troy showed for his own life these days, the people he cared for still mattered and even though they weren't as close as they once had been; their mutual loss doing nothing but driving them apart, she still was in that group. "Tension will continue to rise. I'm overseeing some of these cases, Peyton, it's going to get worse. So don't let your guard down, okay?" If you ever need anything, wasn't said out loud but he hoped she understood he would help if she ever needed him. "Can I ask you something?"

Peyton looked over at him and then smiled. "I'm not an idiot if that's what you're hinting at." She knew of the war that was outside her door and how it could easily engulf the little space she had in town and kept as a safe haven. A lot of it had to do with the work and connections her father had made. He'd made sure it remained unclaimed by doing favors and getting close to the right people, so she was lucky that people in charge remembered it. But she knew it could all change and she would have to deal with it eventually. "There's always suspicion, and whispered confessions, and tension rising. But most people remember what my father did for them. I'm not saying it'll last forever— it's lucky that influence still holds today but I guess I'll figure it out when luck runs out."

[troywindsor]

CLOSED FOR: @nolanfitz

LOCATION: court

Troy offered Nolan a short nod in greeting as he approached the lawyer, hand extended out for a shake as he did so. "You know, been a while since I've seen you in action. You're finally catching up." He teased lightly, no heat behind his words, instead they were lace with a fondness of old time friends and safe competition. Once upon a time, it'd been friendly rivalry, now that Troy wasn't at court everyday, having a drink with the other man or even catching up was near impossible; they lived such different lives. With everything going on though, he figured a chat was needed. "Want to grab a beer, you can have some of those nasty peanuts you like from the bar down the street and I'll try not to judge you."

[troywindsor]

[troywindsor]

Running into people from his past wasn't rare. It was, however, always very uncomfortable. It was the awkwardness of year sof no contact, attached to all the drastic changes both parties had endured. Most people were fully aware of Troy's wins; his becoming the Attorney General, his big wedding right after university, or whatever was on the news. Anyone that had stayed in Los Angeles, knew of the hit and run that separated him from his family, but whoever had stepped away for a while, was fully unaware. So, Troy hated talking about his past.

Rachel was a good memory, someone who had knew him so long ago, that he couldn't even remember who he was when they knew everything about each other. Agreeing to meet with her wasn't a hard decision, but as he walked towards her now, he wondered just how he would get through the night without feeling the familiar pain in his chest that came with the questions that someone from his past normally asked. Still, he offered her a small smile and stopped in front of her, phone still in his hand. "Yeah, Sal does a great job with this place." He mumbled with a nod, the owner a friend of his. "You ready to go in?"

character: Troy Windsor @troywindsor

location: Bella Agave Winery

It had been a little bit now since she had run into Troy at the yacht party of all places. She partially saw him and knew he was more than likely a whole different human being than when they were in their early twenties, but she also saw him and seen a glimpse of the past although all the dreams he had set out to accomplish he had done and even more.

Rachel wasn't sure what precisely they would talk about and she wasn't sure how much she wanted to bring up the yacht, clearly he was the Attorney General though so there might be some things he couldn't talk about with her. She wasn't sure what he thought of her now either. But she felt like this might be a good place to catch up. Winery felt nice enough to choose for a place to meet up, and if anything they could at least talk about the wines they could potentially taste.

She stood in front of the entrance, having left her house probably way too early knowing how horrible traffic always was. At least Rachel had a nice view of the vineyard as she waited. Smoothing her skirt of her dress out of nervousness. Out of the corner of her eye she saw someone approaching and smiled when she saw it was him. "Hey, I was just admiring the great view!" Rachel shared as she gestured towards the vineyard, not knowing if she should go in for a hug or a kiss on the cheek for greeting. She figured she'd let him take the lead on what he felt most comfortable with.

[troywindsor]

There was no denying the smile that appeared on his face at the sight of Esra walking out her front door, his sunglasses-covered eyes taking advantage of the layer between them to move down from the obvious frown in her eyebrows as she watched him to the shoes she was wearing. He was so fucked. Something had shifted that day in his office and Troy was painfully aware of it the entire week that he was in D.C., often his business trips were a nice escape from the reality in L.A. This time around though, Troy was barely into it. His brain so focused on figuring out what the hell was going on with him.

He could not stop thinking about Esra Durmaz and his attempt to distance himself from her, and whatever version of Troy that she'd awaken that night at the yacht party, had failed horrendously. Actually, it had backfired; seeing as on his first day back in Los Angeles, Troy hadn't waited until she came to see him, using work as an excuse and had showed up to her house instead. Probably because he'd finally realized why Esra had returned his jacket that day. She'd wanted to see him.

So, there he was. At her house. Waiting. Patiently, so. If he'd understood something after she'd almost ran out of his house weeks ago, it was that they were more similar than he'd realized upon meeting her. That they both wanted to run at the idea of anything real happening, so Troy, using one of his sharpest suits as armor, was doing the exact opposite as he removed his sunglasses and climbed up the steps, offering to help her silently by stretching out his hand as he spoke up, "Well, I've been here since eight in the morning."

Troy grinned back at her, knowing it would annoy her further, "I wanted to see you so I'm driving you to work." No further explanation. She wanted honesty, well...she'd get it.

Who: @troywindsor Where: outside of Esra's house

In the weeks following her visit to Troy’s home, Esra felt as if she were on a path towards damage control both internally and externally. Distance provided clarity, particularly with him flying to DC for work, and it granted her enough space to chalk their last meeting up as an odd fluke. A sort of manufactured intimacy that came with being slightly vulnerable in front of the person she claimed to despise the most.

To her own credit, she’d been fairly successful at compartmentalizing that encounter and returning to business as usual where the Attorney General was concerned. Had she been responding to his texts more often? Perhaps, but it came with the job. Had she also glanced at his location while he’d been away and stared intently at the little dot wandering into bars? Also part of her job when the dot in question had a penchant for debauchery of the highest order. Never mind how the implication prompted her stomach to turn uncomfortably.

Which made the sight outside of her front windows all the more confounding and nerve-wracking. Propped against his Aston Martin like some kind of editorial campaign come to life in her driveway, Troy Windsor appeared to be waiting. For what she couldn’t fathom, but Esra took significantly less time finishing her morning routine before heading to the door and casually stepping outside.

"Is there a reason you’re standing in front of my house at nine in the morning?”

[troywindsor]

And that right there, the stolen suit, made little to no sense in Troy's mind. Which is exactly what made him show up here himself instead of collecting an ADA and having them interview Dominic. Well, that and the fact that Troy was almost a friendly face to whoever was aware of his dealings in their market. He and Dominic didn't have as much history as he could have with someone in his organization; like Ambrose and all the entertainment he'd provided for years, but he assumed that after all this time supplying different gangs with help in different ways, most people in higher positions could see through Troy.

"Did the police officers ask you to describe that suit? Or do you have a photo?" The Attorney General wondered if it would turn up somewhere else, another frame job similar to the youngest Barone's. He nodded though as the other male mentioned how that party had turned into insanity. "One dead, two injured. Yacht taken into custody, I'm sure your bosses are ecstatic."

until the individual, or individuals, who had been responsible for this latest attack. and he supposed the one before it. then dominic would find himself questioning any who broached the topic. for there would be no telling who precisely was behind it. or who they had ensnared within their various traps. for all dominic knew, troy was but a ploy to see if he would leak information regarding the message that he had received. and the threat that had been so heavily placed upon his shoulders. for a moment, dominic made no move to answer the question. instead, he allowed himself the seconds to consider his options. on how best to give troy the information that he may need, while avoiding any potential of exposing what precisely had transpired .

" they took my rather expensive suit, " he scoffed. but anyone who had heard of dominic's great escape, would know that the clothing had been the intention. " aside from that, no. my phone was still on me when i awoke in the hospital. " a beat passed, " no, i hadn't spoken to anyone prior. the only thing i remember was ensuring that the party was going off without a hitch. it seems my want to be overly cautious didn't pan out. "

[troywindsor]

Troy simply shrugged as she teased him about him paying. Rarely ever did he not, anywhere he went. He enjoyed the finer things in life and never hesitated to pay them. "Yeah, give her some Clase Azul, change her life right now." He teased easily to the bartender and then turned back to CC. The two of them rarely ever saw each other at bars, it was more in the nightclub crowd than here. At her question, Troy finally took a seat next to her. "Didn't feel like being at home so early." He admitted casually, though it wasn't rare for that feeling to cover him. Troy for most intent and purposes, preferred being in loud places, spaces that he could allow himself to miss the life he'd once had. "Haven't seen you in a while though. Is Nolan keeping you that busy?"

Scoff slipped from her lips but in truth she did little to stop it, uncaring whether the man she'd just been subjected to overheard her or not. "He'll need more than luck." The words were spoken darkly but not quietly, something of a parting gift for him. He needed all the help and advice he could get. "Try better personality."

"Can't a girl just enjoy a drink after a long, hard week?" There was an innocence to her tone that she'd never possessed. "I'll take the same again but upgrade my tequila, since he's paying." Before the bartender could take her word as her actual order she spoke again, smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Kidding, the one I'm on is just fine."

The restless energy she could never burn took over once again, rolling her empty glass in her hand. "So, rough week or just a casual drop by?"

[troywindsor]

Troy looked away from the course, where a group of his colleagues continued to play after he excused himself, as he heard the familiar voice of Alix Carrigan. His eyes settled on the blonde, an easy smile taking over his lips at her words before he rolled his eyes fondly at the thought of his older brother. "No, I can't say I'm as stylish as Charlie." Obviously, a joke since he hated his brother's Crocs with the the passion of a thousand burning suns. Well, not that much, but they were ugly, sue him. "I am avoiding going past hole two because I actually hate golf and think it's not a real sport." He joked, gesturing the group of men in the course. "What can I help with?"

FOR: @troywindsor LOCATION: the crescent club

Country clubs had never been Alix's preferred territory. It wasn't the air of exclusivity that bothered her, it never had. Nor the types of people that attended, or the fact Kurtlar used this as a quiet operating ground. No, it was that familiarity of an old life she'd left behind—where politics came in the form of something more deadly than the contract killings she dealt out. And perhaps the one other person who could understand the weight of both those worlds was sitting right in front of her on the elegant patio overlooking the course.

As if this were another chance meeting and she hadn't intentionally sought Troy out, she'd slid into the seat opposite the attorney general, a bright smile already spreading onto her lips. "I was almost starting to believe all the Windsors had never seen a pair of loafers in their lives." A dig at his brother's Crocs, or maybe just something tossed into the air to land somewhere useful enough to bridge the distance until she was able to get into what she truly wanted out of this exchange. "You busy? I can take a raincheck if it's needed."

[troywindsor]

Troy tilted his head to the side a Peyton admitted she felt as if nothing reached her. The bar was still in L.A., a city that was almost taken over by not just one but several criminal organizations. It was rather impressive, or perhaps gullible, to think that she felt so safe in her own bar. One of the few locations in town that remained unclaimed by any of the gangs. "Interesting. Can't say I need to the news to keep up with what's happening." His admission was said casually. He saw too many angles from it. "So you don't get anything weird or suspicious in here?"

Peyton flashed him a look that confirmed she'd seen what played on a loop on almost every news channel. "I don't watch much news but everyone has seen that." She stated as she regarded him and noted that he still hadn't answered her question so she decided to leave it at that. She could put the pieces together with what he'd given her.

"Nothing really reaches me here." It hadn't impacted her in the way it had other people because their building was under possession of one person or some group. She served drinks, closed up, and woke up to do it all over again. "So I've been better than a lot of people, I suppose."

[troywindsor]

Troy often did this and more for other people, his only incentive, for the most part, being the promise of more money in his bank account, or the simple fact that it gave him leverage for the future. Knowledge and connections were important for him, considering unlike most of the people that he worked with had the entire world at their fingertips. The thing was that Troy had always worked his official and unofficial job in the same way for the past five years: like he had nothing to lose. Outside of his friends, his family, the Attorney General had lost way more than just a wife and a son that night, something he'd yet to understand, he probably never would.

"Safiye is handling it better than I expected, if I'm honest." Not that he thought the current DA wasn't good at her job, but the pressure could be blinding. It could take a toll. "Where do I even start? There are too many pieces to this puzzle. I've thought about it a lot, but have you noticed that none of us have given the death of Enzo Barone a lot of thought? So much happened that he's a second though. The richest man in LA and we have not thought of him once. Don't you think that's strange?"

The way he so plainly assured her nothing would ever surface about Breslin and her wife at the yacht party left her stunned to silence, mouth working for words that wouldn't come despite the knee-jerk reaction to argue gently. For as much as she helped others and tried to ensure they knew difficult steps weren't taken alone, she'd never been good at asking for help even from those she knew would so easily give it. After a moment, she corralled her wildly self-sufficient impulses and offered him a quick nod. "Thank you," she said, then exhaled the breath she'd held for a few seconds too long.

As if on cue, while Troy gently teased her for support even without asking, she was midway through the motion of refilling both their cups of coffee, which she replaced with a shake of her head. That was who she made herself for everyone, and apparently it was high time she let other people do the same for her. "Actually uh-- I'd appreciate it. I'd planned to ask Safiye, but Christ alive I can't imagine what the DA's office looks like right now. If the two of us are already fielding calls, she probably hasn't slept yet."

[troywindsor]

"Well, yeah, that movie didn't even exist back then." Troy retorted, clearly finding his brother's predicament more amusing than anything. Troy, although not very serious, often became the notoriously serious one when Charlie was around. It was a change from his usual immature behavior where other people were concerned. The information that the leader of Kurtlar had made such a bold move made him raise an eyebrow though, such an interesting but not very smart decision. "So he has a death wish. That's great for you guys. Okay, but did Cami throw something at him?" He was still amused as they reached his car, unlocking it from a few steps away and turning to look at his older brother with a raised eyebrow at the mention of Esra. "Clearly both of you having 24/7 access to my house was a bad idea." Troy lets out playfully. "A jet ski? That's crazy, she doesn't even like me and you're getting a gift after you meet her once."

Charlie gave a dry scoff, his lips twisting into a faint grin. "Wouldn't exactly wear 'em to the prom, if that's what you're asking." The Lightning McQueen crocs, that was. He had enough sense to know time and place at the very least. "No, think he went to see the Barone girl down at the hospital." Charlie added casually. He only knew because Aslan told him, and he was just happy to be kept in the loop. "You can guess how that went." Of course, anyone with half a brain could’ve guessed how terribly that would've gone, but Charlie's thoughts had already shifted to more pressing matters, like the promise of his new promotion. "Met Esra, did she tell you?" Charlie said after a moment, glancing over to Troy as the walked. "She thinks I need better friends. You think she'll get me that jet ski?"

[troywindsor]

"You know what's funny? He didn't know who Lightning McQueen was when he bought those. Bought them on a whim." Troy added as an after though, a shake of his head followed his words, but there was an amused smile on his face as he watched the waves created by the boat. After the yacht party, he hadn't cared much for his own yacht, too many things happening. Nothing had truly effected Troy himself, but in a lot of ways that event felt like a before and after.

Turning his head to look back at Aslan, Troy let out a short laugh at the insane idea forming in his head. "Wait. Can we actually?" Entertain the absurdity that his older brother, somehow, seemed to really believe, that was. Charlie's promotion had just happened anyway, so this was probably a great way to celebrate him. They'd already thrown him a Cars themed party, but that was obviously not enough when you had two younger brothers in Aslan and Troy.

Out on the water, with nothing but ocean ahead, it was easier to loosen the natural tension held in his shoulders. Not all the way, second nature that imbedded in him, but just enough to produce a rare chuckle of amusement at the thought. "Think that would guarantee he never sets foot in the country." In reference to Charlie's heartbreak if he were unable to bring his lightening McQueen crocs. "Have to stage a kidnapping to get him there."

Aslan didn't quite understand Charlie's crocs obsession, he found them atrocious, but it at least humored him. Which, in his eyes, was enough to continue with the jokes. "Heard he's expecting a presidential cavalry and all." The upward pull of his grin was hidden with another drag from the cigarette, soon moving to lean an elbow against the railing.

[troywindsor]

“Maybe believing isn't always the same thing as trusting."

There is no mistaking what her words mean. To anyone else, possibly, a way to let them know just how hard it is to earn her respect, let alone her trust. For Troy, who stood in front of her as she accused him of unforgivable actions only a few nights ago, it should be enough to deter him from even thinking it's possible to ever deserve to be near her. It should make her seem unattainable.

And yet he stays put right in front of her.

There's a sharpness to Esra, a defense mechanism made of perfectly chosen words and practiced indifference, but Troy's now starting to see the cracks. She's never made it easy; never said exactly what she meant, never stayed long enough for the silence to settle. Her words cause the exact opposite reaction within him; they become directions, a direct translation for Troy.

His answer is complete silence, clearly aware now that his words mean nothing if he can't show her just how much he means them and finally fully aware of why she's standing here now: everything he's done to help Cami's case, the version of him that she'd never really seen, and not expecting her to even notice it. Almost as if they'd opened Pandora's box with their argument that night.

His eyes don't leave her as he lets their newfound closeness take over, letting them trace her features slowly, even after she announces her departure. Esra always looked the same way she acted; composed, intimidating, striking in a way. But there's something different now, something that Troy can't figure out on the spot, as she looks away, wearing a look on her face that he's never seen before. As if she were looking at him like she wanted to believe in something and hated herself for it.

"I'll walk you out." Troy says finally, realizing that she had no plans to finish her sentence and there was no point pushing for it now. She would tell him once she was ready. If she ever was, if they ever allowed themselves another moment like this one.

THE END.

Esra had been asking herself that same question since the moment he walked away on the yacht. Why did it matter? Why had she been so incensed? For someone who spent well over a year claiming to dislike Troy and all that he stood for, it didn’t paint the usual picture of cool indifference that she normally reserved for him. If apathy is the antithesis of care then what the hell did it mean when she couldn’t pull that off anymore?

"I don't know.” Another rare spark of honesty, tumbling out before she could swallow the words and polish them into something more refined. Oddly, the rawness of it only encourages more truth rather than her well-practiced procedure of reeling back and reforming before she continues. “Maybe believing isn't always the same thing as trusting." Esra doesn't offer the latter with ease. Not anymore. "Maybe I needed to see for myself."

Her fingertips brush the wall again. A welcome distraction from the magnetic scent of his cologne, once a faded hallmark while his jacket lay draped over her shoulders, now attached to the very real version of him as he entered her space. Esra didn't know how to parse the memory of it quietly comforting her throughout all the evening's agonies from the owner. Intrusive thoughts whisper about what might happen if she pulled him flush against herself and drowned in it. Suddenly the room feels impossibly warm.

I would never take part in something that could harm you.

Bullseye. A single declaration and whatever tepid grasp remains on this façade begins fracturing in the way Esra's brows lift and pull together slightly. He wouldn't be the first person to lie about such a thing and as an attorney it was practically in his job description, but all of the rationality in the world couldn't prevent her immediate impulse to believe him. "Troy, I—" Her lips part to finish the sentence, but it stalls in her throat. Instead she foolishly allows her gaze to drift lower, tracing the contours of his face before snapping back up and then looking away. This is dangerous territory; wanting. Like a child who clearly didn't learn when the stove burnt her the first time.

"I should go."

[troywindsor]

Trust is a luxury in their line of work. That was something that Troy learned years ago, while sitting in this very same office; when it was his name on the door, on the desk. When he hadn't compromised his entire life to the highest bidder, when he was the very first version of himself. The version of himself that believed in truth, honesty and fairness.

He could see that version of himself all over Safiye still. Perhaps even more than he ever was. Safiye, who was the picture of fairness, trust and good. That was why this conversation was taking place only now and not years ago because Troy truly wondered if he could sway her into this. He had to be tactful but effective; easy enough things to pull off by the Attorney General.

"This case can't be your priority right now. It'll be hard to solve it, your skills would be better put to use on smaller, multiple cases, rather than the one that seems a never-ending puzzle. That'll change how people look at your office." Sure, she was right, Solving this one mystery would be the best case scenario, but while Troy was connecting many dots, he could see a bigger picture: this case would remain open for longer than he'd liked to admit.

He watched his friend, deciding how he wanted to treat this. "Are you open for lunch today? I'll drive us to a restaurant and we can discuss." Troy had yet to figure out how to begin communicating all the information that the woman in front of him would need to understand how intricate this case and many others were. He needed time and patience and she needed an open mind, otherwise this wouldn't go anywhere. "Before we go though. Do you think you can still trust me after all this time?"

It was both a familiar feeling and the face of a stranger that seemed to hover in the air when he stepped into her office that day. How many times had they walked these halls together just years before. Safiye had enjoyed his company, but life had taken them each in different directions. His office was hers, Breslin had gone and moved on as well. It was as though the ones who had once walked the path with her had diverged into their own. And really, they had.

And Safiye couldn’t have been happier for them. Honestly, the thought of how far Troy had made it filled her with pride. Only good wishes to those who had accompanied her. At the end of the day, she was entirely oblivious to just what type of person she was now sitting across from. Her heels echoed around the room as she took those few steps back to her own chair, settling comfortable within it once more. It felt weird, still, to this day, to be sitting here where he once sat. Roles were not reversed, but the tables had turned more than once.

“And I’d be glad to take that helping hand.” Any day, without having a clue just what or who she was agreeing to. “Does it really require stepping outside the office, though?” There was curiosity within her voice, without a hint of doubt mixed in. No, Safiye Adem trusted Troy in ways very few people in her life could make claims to have reached. “If you’d like to discuss this outside of office, who am I to say no. I just worry any time spent out there is time I could instead be spending in her trying to patch up whatever is left of this case.”

The attorney looked at her friend, a sigh escaping her. And it rippled, like the ripples on a lake after a pebble had been tossed inside. “Everything was pointing in that very direction and now I have people questioning me and my office” And those who had worked the case. Anyone and anything connected to it. Truthfully, Safiye hadn’t believed that Camilla Barone actually was capable of such a feat and yet, proof had been there, evidence to point a certain direction before it had gone missing. A killer on the loose. "Where would you like to go?" It was a general question, giving in to his request. ❧ @troywindsor

[troywindsor]

There was understanding in Troy's nod as she offered a smile his way, not really expecting a thank you. It was a small price to pay, and truly, almost nothing considering her best friend had so much to lose compared to Troy. His biggest loss if any consequence could come out of the tabloids would be to lose his job, which may be the only thing that he had nowadays, but still nothing compared to the future of Camilla Barone. Taking another drag from his cigarette, Troy leaned back in his chair, a small smile threatening to take over his lips, but staying in control as he spoke up. "No, yeah. She did. I'm not worried." Not that he and Esra had even touched on that topic when she'd showed up just days ago. He was still working out that entire interaction, so he kept his cigarette between his lips as he searched the cigarette pack in the drawers of his desk, changing the topic. "Sure. Try these next," Troy offered easily, setting the pack on his desk, pushing them closer to her. "Hopefully next time I see you it'll be to celebrate Cami's not LA's #1 enemy and you can tell me what you think of these."

Leaning a shoulder against the open doorway, Cel let out an exhale of smoke while she considered the explanation. Somehow, Troy made it all sound so simple. As easy as the inhale of the cigarette between her fingers. And yet, Cel's mind wouldn't shake the inherited feeling that she needed more done to ensure the outcome was what she wanted it to be. But the mention of media associates and how inclined he was to allow his office to be slaughtered within it had her gaze flicker from the perfectly manicured green lawn back to Troy. A smile in the closest thing to a thank you she'd offer. At least, for now. "Figured it was the other way around." The blame set, that was. "Esra's got it. No need to worry there, obviously. Thought she'd been by to see you. But, I'll do what I can to ensure your name stays out of the stories." She'd leaned forward then to flick ash into the tray on his deck before returning to her spot at the doors, to the comfort of fresh air and sunlight. "Don't think so," she replied casually, "you have any here?"