"Being a weaver doesn't mean you know how to dress," Dexter grumbled, and might have gone on except that Solomon interrupted.
"You say you can be gentle," Solomon said with a slow, not-quite-lecherous smile, "and yet you claim you know my type? Erskine, really."
"Okay!" Dexter threw up one hand. "You're all being meanies so I'm leaving, and I knew I'd better chaperone you, Mr Prophet Sah. China's gonna be jealous if she finds you making eyes at your colleague."
He pointed at Erskine in almost exactly the same manner he'd been pointing before. "If you're coming you're going to have to keep your hands to yourself. I'd hate to have to fill out shenanigans paperwork if I couldn't be part of it. All aboard, the Sanctuary Express. See you later, Anton. Assuming you're back in the area in a few days."
He was fairly sure Solomon was laughing quietly, but that faint edge of grim relief, as he steered the man through the door and toward the Hotel's door.
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"You say you can be gentle," Solomon said with a slow, not-quite-lecherous smile, "and yet you claim you know my type? Erskine, really."
"Okay!" Dexter threw up one hand. "You're all being meanies so I'm leaving, and I knew I'd better chaperone you, Mr Prophet Sah. China's gonna be jealous if she finds you making eyes at your colleague."
He pointed at Erskine in almost exactly the same manner he'd been pointing before. "If you're coming you're going to have to keep your hands to yourself. I'd hate to have to fill out shenanigans paperwork if I couldn't be part of it. All aboard, the Sanctuary Express. See you later, Anton. Assuming you're back in the area in a few days."
He was fairly sure Solomon was laughing quietly, but that faint edge of grim relief, as he steered the man through the door and toward the Hotel's door.