Jonathan Sims

The question seems to startle him, and John might wonder what Martin was expecting if he didn't suspect the answer to be hopelessly vague. This is so far off the beaten path, from Martin's perspective, that expectation wouldn't serve as much of a guide. But he responds in the affirmative (albeit sounding a little surprised by that, too), and John cracks a drowsy, satisfied smile. "Good."

Martin sleeping well was the objective; that John also slept well feels more incidental, but it's no less true. He hums a yes, following Martin's gaze to The Bishop and reaching over to brush his knuckles along the cat's side, drawing a sleepy little chirp out of him. Honesty and lingering anxiety compel him to add, "Well, it was more business-as-usual for me than it was for you." He glances back up at Martin, trying not to read too much into the fact that he's still so close, neither of them having made any real attempts to extricate themselves. "But you're all right?" he asks.