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[trustinthedevil]

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[heyboss]

Did you get your favor granted?

[trustinthedevil]

I did. It seemed sort of convoluted but I'm starting to understand that's just the nature of this place.

[heyboss]

Honestly, I think that's probably the healthiest thing you could do.

Do you drink?

[trustinthedevil]

Absolutely.

[heyboss]

Want to meet over a drink? I'll let you in the Lounge.

[trustinthedevil]

That sounds amazing. I'll meet you there in a few?

[heyboss]

On my way there already.

[And he's waiting there by the door, a drink in hand.]

[trustinthedevil]

[ Matt doesn't take too long to get there. He's been there a couple times now that he has the route pretty well memorized. Once he's let into the lounge, he smiles in Sheehan's general direction. ]

One think you should know about me, I'll never say no to a meeting over drinks.

[heyboss]

[He pulls out a chair and sets the glass down in front of it.]

Good to know. I'm drinking whisky today. How's that sound, boss?

[He slips easily into the gentle tone, the light endearment that he uses without even thinking about it.]

[trustinthedevil]

I'll take it.

[ Look, he's not going to say no to anything, and whiskey is a fine choice. A gentleman's drink. ]

I admit I'm usually more of a beer guy, but it's always imported. People like to take the piss out of me for it.

[heyboss]

Nothing wrong with that. [He smiles, and settles in the chair.]

I can't get shit on the island except whiskey, rye, and brandy. So I take what I can get.

[trustinthedevil]

I assume you're not talking about Staten Island.

[ Matt smiles back, pleased with his little quip as he settles in as well. ]

[heyboss]

Nah. [He picks up his glass.]

I'm a psychiatrist at an asylum on an island in Boston Harbor.

[trustinthedevil]

Is it as spooky as it sounds?

[ He's just teasing, but the idea of an asylum on an island certainly conjures up all sorts of scenarios in one's head. ]

[heyboss]

For me, it's just a job.

[So yes, but also...no.]

Nothing spooky about it. What business are you in?

[trustinthedevil]

I'm a lawyer on the island of Manhattan.

[ He's not sure if he should use past or present tense. It's not like he's been practicing law any time recently. Present tense seems easier.

Matt takes a sip of his own drink. ]

I'd say it keeps the bills paid, but there was a time where we were getting paid in tamales.

[heyboss]

[Sheehan laughs softly.]

Ah, that's the life. I get paid pretty well, but what am I going to spend anything on when I don't leave the damn island.

What's with all the lawyers around here?

[trustinthedevil]

Are there a lot?

[ Matt's never noticed. Matt's never even really asked anyone about themselves much. ]

Maybe we all just need a little help being better people.

[heyboss]

Maybe. Is that something you need?

[He raises a shoulder in a shrug.]

[trustinthedevil]

[ Oh, Sheehan, you have no idea. ]

I think it's something everyone probably needs, to some extent.

[heyboss]

[He's got years of experience. He can absolutely see.]

I suppose that's true. What dies being a better person look like?

[trustinthedevil]

Is there a definite answer to that?

[ Matt's not going to give up more about himself than he needs to, thank you kindly. ]

[heyboss]

There isn't. Nothing in a law book, anyway.

[He laughs as he says it, taking another drink.]

[trustinthedevil]

Definitely not.

[ Matt can drink to that, too. He does have a moment where he looks thoughtful, though. ]

The more good you are, the harder it is to become a better person. There's less room for growth, the bar's set higher. A bad person has to meet a minimum requirement, at best.

[heyboss]

Is it as black and white as good people and bad people?