Jack never saw himself as a diamond thief, but there was something to be said for a job well done that had him distinctly self-satisfied as he got home from New York. He'd barely slept -- there had been too much adrenaline for that -- but it hardly mattered.

He tucked his take into a hidden corner of a dresser, planning to sell the diamonds and give the money to his sister during his next trip home. Then he sprawled on his bed to relax and idly checked his voicemail.

Well. It was good Mitchell was coming back, he supposed, but the whole thing made him frown a bit -- and not just because the messages were of limited coherence, or because he wasn't American. Things would be complicated. But then, they always were.

He picked up his phone to make a call of his own before settling in to write to Sebastien. It would, of necessity, be a rather more censored letter than his norm.

[OOC: Door is closed but knockable, or open to Andy. Aaaaaand let's call the specifics on his thread with Kate NFB.]

After his phone calls to Jack and Kate, George was practically scrambling to get down to the pub in time (although not scrambling enough that he couldn't pause, catch his breath, and opine on the stereotypical nature of said pub). He wasn't aware of anyone else doing the same. It was mainly terror driving him forward.

What if Mitchell bit someone? What if something was wrong? What if--

He was not necessarily watching where he was going as he wandered nervously onto the pavement.

( Meanwhile, a few blocks away... )

( Mitchell's walk just outside the pub was nervous... )

[OOC: NFB, NFI, OOC cherished. Preplayed with the stellar chose_humanity and vanillajello. Follows this.]

Jack had been dealing with the Mitchell situation through the immature but far easier means of ignoring it until something shoved it in his face again. It wasn't as if he had some kind of useful advice to give. Or if he trusted his temper to hold.

So: He wasn't thinking about any of that when his phone rang and he glanced up from his reading to answer it. He didn't recognize the number on the display.

"Hello?"

( That was a very firm 'Hi,' that greeted him. )

[OOC: Topic of phone call NFB. Preplayed with (and coded by) the splendid chose_humanity. Follows this, this and this.]