[ He doesn't actually turn to look at him, but he does look sideways out of the corner of his eyes for a few seconds. Locus is a slightly blurry cat-covered blob beside him, but Felix is familiar enough with him that his mind can fill in the details and pretty accurately construct his expression simply from the tone of his voice. ]

I know. [ That comes out a little snappish and impatient. ] And I stand by the decision. She can count. [ That's sarcastic, he can't help it. ] And she won't stab us in the back. None of them will.

[ Because the problem isn't really Traci. Deep down, Felix knows that. Just like the problem isn't the possibility of Locus sneaking off to the back room with her. ]

It isn't about not trusting you. It's... [ Sighing, he shoves his fingers through his hair. ] It's me. Internal stuff. [ This time, he does look at him. It's a quick twist of his head, stealing a glance and then pretending that he hasn't. ] And I don't know how to talk about it without sounding manipulative or ungrateful—[ That leaves a bad taste in his mouth. He shakes his head. ]—or whatever.

[ Felix frowns a little deeper. He takes a breath. Then releases it. ]

I'm sorry I pissed you off so much that you left work without finishing up what you were doing.