If the mess bothered Gold, then he was certainly would not have shown it. He had known that kind of mood before -- seen the aftermath of his own anger and despair when he'd slaked it with as much destruction as his hands could manage before the pain finally brought him to his senses. He'd seen the state of a former colleague's home after the sudden death of a spouse -- the squalor of a man given up and the din of a screaming baby his pain no longer allowed him to hear.

This wasn't anywhere near so dire. But he understood. So rather than draw attention to it, he kept the subject light and maintained focus on the plans to have tea.

"Provided you are not saving it for a special occasion, then, I would love to know your favorites."