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[Wyatt hung back in the elevator and waited for Zach to work his magic-.. as he called it; which turned out to be a lot of wailing and what looked like a double-jointed elbow] Zach: [bawling] Oh god-.. oh, my arm! Won’t somebody save my arm?! [The receptionist immediately abandoned her post and ran toward Zach with a panicked expression] Receptionist: Wha-.. why’d you come up here, what happened?! Zach: [choked] I think my mommy works-.. ow, ow-.. make it stop! [Such a theatrical display caused Wyatt to roll his eyes, but it did the trick. Slipping past the receptionist as she fussed over Zach’s non-existent injury, he held his hand up; five minutes. Zach nodded enthusiastically as he held his arm out at an awkward angle; he could keep this up all day] … Wyatt: Busy? Darien: You know it-.. what’re you doing here? Wyatt: Just thought I’d drop in, fancy some lunch? Darien: [scoffs] Sure. Wyatt: I need some help… Darien: What’ve you done? Wyatt: Ha-ha-.. let’s get out of here? Darien: Alright. Wyatt: Ignore the child making a scene, by the way… Zach: [sniffling] Look how red my knee is! Oh, it’s definitely broken-.. right? I mean, just feel it! I can barely walk! Darien: Uh, Chrissy.. can you reschedule my one o’clock? I’m not feeling so great. [The receptionist nodded absently, studying Zach’s patched knee with increasing suspicion]