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Jordan usually liked minipet duty, but he liked the caretaking part of it, the feeding and cleaning and exercise duties, duties that were more likely to be left for trainees. He volunteered from time to time. But he was also occasionally assigned to assist with the other minipet duties, the ones that involved experimentation, either preparation or cleanup. He recognized that there was a need for these experiments, and that it was both easier and more ethical to perform them on minipets, but he didn't like it. He was grateful not to be carrying out the experiments himself.

Today he was performing maintenance and cleanup on the tank series inside one of the experimental areas, a job that put him up close and personal with the minipets that were under ongoing study and made him all the more glad that he'd gotten Tiny out of the lab some time ago. He put on an apron, picked up the bucket with his tools in it, and let himself into the lab.

He came to a stop when he saw who was there, his expression going carefully blank. "I'm here to maintain the tanks in this area," he replied coolly. "I see that you're already playing with them. I wasn't aware that Death division took much of an interest in the experiments, as opposed to the results." He glanced at Lawrence's coat, observing that the trim and decorations had been updated, and did not say congratulations, instead moving to start checking over the first of the row of tanks on the far counter.

"I would have thought you'd want to be watching your actual work." Jordan retrieved a carrier from inside a cabinet, then removed the top of the first tank. The inhabitant flinched away from his gloved hand, pressing itself into the corner of the tank, and it took him some effort to catch it and transfer it so that he could begin the process of cleaning and checking the tank itself. "I hear you get better results that way." He made no response to the mention of his exes, pointedly ignoring the comment.

"Oh, well then. Congratulations on your transfer," he said, without any real enthusiasm to the words, and scooped soiled nesting material out of the tank and into a trash bag. When Lawr mentioned candy innards, though, he glanced around, interested despite himself. "In wrappers?" Then he spotted the glistening organs in the incisions on the minipet currently being experimented upon, and turned back to his task, the corner of his mouth pulling down with something that might have been disgust.

"Was it candy-related in any other way? It seems like there's usually some kind of weird logic to those things. They're the manifestations of ideas, after all." Jordan glanced again at the fishlike creature on the table. Some minipets reacted as though they felt pain. This one lay still, only its eye moving from time to time. Jordan hoped that that was a residual motion rather than an indication that it was still living.

His hands paused in the job of wiping the interior of the tank clean. Was Lawr implying that he recalled the dreams in which he played another role entirely? Was he aware that those dreams were not just the product of his own mind, and did he know that others shared them? He lived with Melvin and Rodney; it was possible that they'd mentioned it or that Melvin had even explained it. But did he know that Jordan also knew? Jordan resumed wiping the tank clean and checked the leads that led to the display. "You have?" he asked. He looked back at Lawr, meeting his eyes with a curious, cool expression, the inflection of his voice altering just slightly. "How is Rodney doing?"

"They're a very different kind of animal," Jordan agreed neutrally. "Internal logic dictated by whim instead of evolution, I suppose."

The tiny flinch and freeze at the question was satisfying, but the feeling was quickly covered by a twinge of guilt as Lawrence took his irritation out on the pinned-down minipet. The mini dissipated with the violence of the motion, and Jordan tried not to think too hard about what that implied about minipets and the use of their body parts.

"I don't know him very well," he said, still not specifying which version he meant, and, "I would imagine so, since I'm not currently in a relationship." The last part came out with slightly more of an edge than he'd intended. Dammit. Don't let him know if he gets to you. "Unless you mean friendships, in which case I'm fine, thanks."

So many strings involved, that sounded like an understatement, even from the secondhand information Jordan had. But as Lawr went on, Jordan turned to give him a look of frank disbelief. All the irons this guy had in the fire and all the s**t he'd pulled, and he was trying to hit on Jordan now?

He shook his head a little and turned to scoop the minipet from the holding carrier back into its tank and close the top. If the mini hadn't been obviously terrified of human hands, he might have spent a little time petting it, but he was pretty sure that would get him bitten. "I read a lot," he replied. "What's your particular definition of classical literature? I find it varies from person to person." He was just going to ignore the commentary on his tastes as well.

Jordan moved to the next tank in line and began the cleaning process again, meticulously careful about the procedure. It was true that he was feeling the lack of contact by now, getting hungry for friendly touch, but it would take a hell of a lot more isolation than this to make him consider the offer. It might be a weird joke of some kind, or an attempt to unsettle him. "Morality plays, huh? Picking anything useful up from the lessons they were intended to teach? I find Milton a little melodramatic myself, but that was the style then, of course. Made any forays into modern retellings of epic poetry?"

He glanced at the dissection, mildly unnerved by the process and the strange innards. It was interesting in its own way, but while it wasn't particularly gory with this specimen, it was still a certain kind of gruesome.

"Is he?" Jordan found himself mildly curious about Rodney, aware that the memories he had of the dream version of the man were incorrect for this world, but aware also that the differences were almost always a few relatively short steps sideways from the real world as he knew it. What was this Rodney actually like in comparison? That was a weird thing to be wondering, he knew, but maybe it was as much a natural question as it was weird.

He cleaned out the tank he was working on and added fresh bedding. "I prefer prose most of the time," he said. "I've read a couple of interesting takes on Beowulf, although that's a different subject and era from the subjects you're interested in, I guess."

The compliment earned a wary sideways look. "It's a career path that I didn't anticipate, but I find myself enjoying it," he said coolly.