"Yes, thank you, Matt. Always what a person wants to hear first thing in the morning," Mohinder grumbled and crawled dramatically -- and cat-like -- onto the sofa to flop on his stomach. One socked foot rested against the arm and he buried his head in a seat cushion.

"Actually," Peter chimed in helpfully, "it's almost noon and the first thing you heard was something like, 'holy crap, that can come out of a person?'"

One slim, brown-skinned arm jerked backward in Peter's general direction before the knuckles hit the floor, suddenly without the power to bat at the offending man in any way, shape or form.

Peter's smile was slightly crooked when he joined Matt back at the table and shrugged. "I think that's my cue to do one last lap. I'll be back in an hour." That meant that he wanted to get back to the bodies and finish digging, actually. Just in case it was awhile. "If Claire's dad-- If Noah calls, wait for me to get back, okay?"