“What do you think?” Logan asked the group half an hour later, after he’d clarified his idea in his own head to some degree.
“I don’t know. It might work, if we can figure out how to keep him from just teleporting out.”
Logan nodded at Faolán’s comment. “That is going to be the fly in the ointment." He chuckled. "If I were stinking rich we could coat it in silver.”
“An idea, but not a doable one, unfortunately,” Brice said. “Even I don’t have the kind of dough to handle that.”
Skye looked between them. “Does it have to be pure silver?”
“What are you thinking, Skye?”
“Silver nitrate. It’s cheap enough, relatively speaking, and if you mixed it in paint…”
Faolán pursed his lips in thought. “That just might work.”
“Is construction on the room finished, Brice?” Logan asked.
“Then all you have to do is convince Morgan to paint the interior with paint you provide, without his thinking you’ve gone totally around the bend.”
“He won’t think that, I hope. I’ve been a nice, easy client to work for according to him. So if I decide I want the panic room to have some color in it, instead of bare steel walls, he’ll do it for me without raising an eyebrow too high.”
“That being the case someone…” Logan looked at Skye.
“As the only human here, I get the honors of picking up enough silver nitrate and then mixing it into the paint. I can handle…” She yawned prodigiously. “Sorry, all. Guess the hour’s getting to me.”
“Then let’s get you home.” Logan turned to Brice. “We can meet here again tomorrow night, or are you busy with the show now?”
“I’ve got two more free nights before we start the exterior filming. I should be back here by six at the latest tomorrow.”
“Okay, then let’s say we meet at seven, for Skye’s sake?”
“Yes. It’ll give you time to change clothes,” Logan told her, smiling.
“Well, yeah, that would be good.”
Logan put an arm around Skye’s waist. “Say good night, Skye.”
“Good night Skye,” she said with a grin just before the two of them vanished.