[ when he catches sight of that familiar look in larus' eyes– which he can only think of as the sort of marrow-deep tiredness or existential fatigue that might overcome someone who's seen far too much, neal's expression softens and sombers slightly.

indulgently, ] Yeah. [ he would, actually. ] I want you to do what you've got to do to get your stuff together so I can abscond with you for a little while without the first thing on your mind being unfinished business back here.

[ he takes a sip, gestures with his glass. ]

Tomorrow's fine. Tomorrow's perfect. As long as you're coming with me, I'm happy.