Michael Bublé Wrote A Song About This Log

[worktodo]

Who: Anyone currently living on or welcome at the Justice Farm!
Where: Albert Rosenfield's Justice Farm of SCIENCE!! in Saffron City
When: Anytime in the month of January
Summary: A compilation of all those one-off threads, logs, and other general social interactions that don't warrant their own individual post and yet promise to be too much fun to outright handwave, either.
Rating: May vary! But assume PG unless noted otherwise.
Log:


☆ YOU ARE HERE ☆
(IT LOOKS LIKE THIS.)


Let the shenanigans ensue.

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[bywiseguidance]

Ziva is reading in the front room when there's a knock on the door. This puzzles her for a couple of reasons, mostly being that anyone that comes over to the house generally has a standing invitation and a key--even if they knock they let themselves in a moment or two later. Secondly, even if someone wants to show up who doesn't have the means to let themselves in, they generally call first.

A second knock definitively proves that neither of these are the case, and Ziva being the only one in range to answer the door, she sets her book aside and gets up to do so.

The young man framed in the glass panel of the front door is unfamiliar to her, unremarkable in appearance, wearing a black wool coat open over a black shirt and dark green apron, with what is presumably the logo of a store in town. Well, nothing to do but open the door and see what he wants.

...apparently he wants to make sure everyone in the house is alive.

"Um...no one came to pick up your standing coffee order this week, usually that guy comes every week like clockwork. Monday, between 2 and 4 o'clock, and it's Thursday..."

"Evidently he forgot. He has been rather busy these last few days. One of us will come tomorrow, I assure you. Thank you for your concern as well, you certainly did not have to come all the way out here just to check on us." It was rather touching, really. Ziva gives the kid a tip, offers a brownie from the tray of them she made earlier, and sends him on his way.

At least if they are in trouble, someone will notice.