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A couple of minutes later, the door opened again, and Jordan came in, dropping his mission bag beside the door and shrugging out of his coat. He hung it up on the hook and turned, only then noticing that there was an occupant on the couch. "Oh, hey," he said. "You're back earlier than expected."

"What?" Jordan pulled the hair tie out of his hair, releasing the short ponytail he'd been wearing and running a hand through his hair with an absentminded grimace. He bent down to untie his boots and kick them off. "Want some tea? I won't be up too much later. I assume nothing too catastrophic happened at the camp?"

"Both of those, uh, situations sound pretty awkward," Jordan said neutrally. The second part explained why Melvin was back here, anyway. He could understand how sharing a cabin might get uncomfortable.

"I'm just going to change real quick, then," he said, and padded into the bedroom. Among the rustling of fabric he called back, "I had to go take some stuff to another base, got called up late."

"Yeah, I sorta fell into the habit of running stuff out to people when I was free." Jordan emerged from the bedroom in sweatpants and a faded t-shirt, hiding a yawn behind his hand. "I didn't have anything to do this evening so I said I'd do the errand. Good to have done some stuff for people once in a while, you know? There's a few people I can call on for minor favors if I need them. That kind of thing."

He took note of what Melvin was doing. "Any new and interesting drama as of five minutes ago?"

"Valid concern," Jordan said with a sympathetic grimace; he was equally well aware of how fast something could blow up on the twitter feed. He nodded to the comment about keeping tabs on people. "Knowing where they are is different from being there." For now, he was ignoring his own phone. He'd plugged it in and he didn't want to get sucked into anything.

"Yeah. In between missions and normal duties, of course. Helps pass the time, too. The camp food's good? Who'd they get in to make it?" he asked. His own kitchen was minimal, and he usually ate in the cafeteria. Good food was a subject of interest.

"Something herbal, so it won't keep me awake," he requested.

"Must be different than the usual slackers. Maybe I should arrange to go to camp." Jordan looked thoughtful.

He sat on the arm of the couch while Melvin prepared the tea and listened. "Sounds like he definitely needs extra watching," he said, and kept his unease at the idea to himself. Why had Lawrence been recruited? His problems seemed to go deeper than many of the strange people on the island. Not that Jordan hadn't suspected that. He still wasn't sure how much criticism of Lawrence Melvin would accept, even now that he'd had his eyes opened to some degree.

He accepted the mug, but what Melvin had to say next made him scowl. "Did he? What the hell is he thinking? It's not like he has anything to do with my space any more."

Jordan rubbed his thumb along the curve of the mug handle, frowning. "Concerned? Probably more like jealous." He sighed. "He has trouble controlling his jealousy. You've seen it, I'm sure, he threatens anyone he thinks might be looking sideways at Harrison. I haven't had anyone staying over, no," he continued. "I've ... kept to myself."

That was its own problem. He'd kept to himself partly due to a bitter kind of exhaustion with other people, partly, if he was truthful, due to that jealousy. It was flattering, in a way, and it was proof that he was still wanted in some way. It probably wasn't healthy, he admitted to himself ruefully.