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Stiles stared at the soul mark that was hidden under his arm at the top of his rib cage, just below his armpit. A small rabbit was etched there, waiting for its mate to be found. He drew a t-shirt over his head and smoothed down the fabric. Between the shirt and a whisper of magic, the mark was completely hidden from sight. He finished dressing in some of the new clothes Peter had made him buy. A dress shirt was tucked into well-fitted jeans. A tailored blazer made him look older. Grown up.
When had that happened?
Sure, Stiles was now a college graduate but, somehow, he didn't always feel like an adult. There was too much of his life spent in high school and it had left its marks.
The doorbell rang. Stiles clattered down the stairs to open the door.
Peter Hale stood at the door, impeccably dressed as always. "Ready?" he asked.
Stiles nodded. "Come in while I bring my bags down."
Peter stepped into the house and closed the door behind him.
"I'll just..." Stiles stuttered. "Be right back."
Back in his room, Stiles took a moment for a deep breath. He could do this. He grabbed the bag with the suits and his rolling suitcase. Damn. He'd have to come back for his last bag.
He carefully carried the bags downstairs and handed the one with the suits to Peter. "Can you take this?"
"Did you get what I told you to?" Peter asked, hefting the bag.
Stiles nodded. "Yes, I got exactly what you said to," he replied patiently. "But I have one more bag to get."
"I'll take this out to the car." Peter took the suits as well as the rolling bag. "Come out when you have your other bag."
"Right." Stiles turned and sprinted up the stairs. They weren't -- exactly -- on a schedule, but he didn't want to start on the wrong foot by making Peter wait for him.
Peter had the other bags in the car by the time Stiles had locked up the house. His dad was working, which was just as well. He wasn't pleased about what they were doing and the disappointed look was the worst. Stiles put the last bag next to the small mound of luggage in the back of the SUV.
Without a word, Peter got behind the wheel and Stiles clambered into the passenger seat.
Peter had the radio set to a classical music station and while Stiles itched to play with the radio, he knew enough not to. So he folded his hands together and focused on his breathing. He hadn't had the time to meditate this morning and he hoped he could do so now. He closed his eyes and settled back in the very comfortable seat. He slowed his breathing.
Stiles' eyes fluttered open as the car stopped and was turned off.
"We're here," Peter said.
Stiles looked around to see they were at a small airport. This one was about an hour away from Beacon Hills. Since Beacon Hills didn't have a paved landing strip, much less an airport, they had to travel to the next town to get to one.
"Wait here," Peter directed. "I'll see where we need to go."
"Okay," Stiles nodded.
Peter got out and entered the office. Fifteen minutes later, he came back to the car. He got in and drove to a hanger further down the row and parked along the side.
"We can leave the car here," Peter said. "Our plane is inside."
"Cool," Stiles replied. He got out and stretched before moving to the back of the SUV.
"I'll take the suit bags," Peter directed. "Grab your other two bags."
"Sure you can manage?" Stiles asked.
"Yes," Peter said, without rolling his eyes. Werewolf strength was very helpful when it came to dealing with luggage. "It's not that far."
"True," Stiles agreed.
Peter easily managed the two suit bags as well as his own large bag. Stiles grabbed his roller bag and carry-on and followed.
The two larger bags went under the plane into storage. Peter carried the suit bags into the plane.
"The pilot's doing a last check, we should be ready to leave shortly," Peter said. "Take a seat anywhere."
Stiles looked at the comfortable chairs that were spread out through the body of the small jet.
"I'm never flying commercial again," Stiles declared as he wriggled in one of the chairs.
"I try not to, to be honest," Peter admitted. "My wolf is very unhappy in the enclosed space. I can't even begin to describe the smells."
Stiles laughed. "Oh, man! The old beer farts in the cushions."
Peter grinned. That was better. Stiles figured Peter was just as worried as he was but they both needed to lighten up to pull this off.
The pilot came back and introduced himself, adding the name of the co-pilot that was sitting at the controls. He shook hands with both Peter and Stiles, making sure they were buckled in before he went to the front of the plane.
Stiles plastered himself to the window, watching as the small plane taxied and took off. They reached cruising altitude and the fasten seat belt sign was turned off.
Peter turned to Stiles and stared long enough that Stiles started to get uncomfortable.
“What?” Stiles blurted.
“I was just thinking you clean up very nice,” Peter grinned.
Stiles shifted. “It’s the clothes. These are nicer than I usually wear. Although I understand that we need to look good for this meeting.”
“Looking good is part of it,” Peter nodded. “There is one teeny detail…”
Stiles looked down, confused. “Was I supposed to wear a tie? Or is this the wrong belt?”
“No, you look fine,” Peter assured him. “It’s just, well, we need to smell more like each other if we’re to pull this off.”
And that was the crux of this entire trip. Peter and Stile had to convince another Pack that they were a couple, to over-ride a ‘betrothal contract’ that Talia had signed — without Peter’s knowledge — years ago. The McInnis pack in Chicago had tracked Peter down and insisted that he present himself to them. If he was single and even faintly compatible with the McInnis eldest daughter, they were going to insist on a wedding.
Peter couldn’t even pretend to have not gotten the message, since the McInnis Alpha had sent the message to Peter’s Alpha. Scott.
It had been at a Pack meeting a month ago. Scott stood in front of the group, as he always did.
“I have some happy news!” Scott announced. “I’m pleased to announce that Peter is getting married!”
Stiles was stunned but Peter was confused.
“Who am I supposed to be marrying?” Peter asked dangerously. Not that anyone but Stiles noticed.
“Norah McInnis!” Scott replied, pleased with himself.
“I’ve heard of the family but I've never met her,” Peter replied with a frown.
“Alpha McInnis contacted me to let me know that he is calling in the contract Talia signed that matched you and his oldest daughter.” Scott was smiling broadly, pleased somehow to be facilitating this. “Her name is Norah McInnis and evidently is the designated Heir to the McInnis Pack.”
“Fuck, no!” Peter swore.
Scott frowned. “This is a great thing! We get to make a treaty with an older Pack and you get a wife!”
Stiles stepped in. “Scott. Maybe this isn’t such a good thing…”
“No! It’s perfect! Peter gets to live with another Pack and we get a treaty with them.” Scott protested, not even looking at Stiles.
“Peter gets to live with another Pack,” Stiles said flatly. “Just like that?”
“It’s perfect!” Scott repeated. “Everyone wins.”
“What about Peter? What does he win?” Stiles asked.
“A wife. A new Pack. Come on, Stiles, what more would anyone want?” Scott whined.
“The Hale Pack is older than the McInnis Pack, by about a hundred years,” Stiles said. “This is still Hale land, even if currently there isn’t a Hale Alpha.”
“I already told Alpha McInnis that Peter was single and available,” Scott replied stubbornly. “So he doesn’t have a choice.”
Hoping Peter would catch on, Stiles moved next to Peter. “And what if we’ve been dating and simply didn’t tell anyone?”
“Sweetheart, I know you didn’t want to tell everyone yet..” Thank goodness Peter was good at this. “But it looks like the cat is out of the bag.”
Everyone looked surprised. Stiles resolutely took Peter’s hand in his and leaned against Peter’s shoulder. “We’ve been too good at hiding, I guess. No one realized.”
Scott looked between them. “You’re making this up! When have you had time to get together?”
“Oh, on all the Friday nights you’ve blown me off for something with the rest of the Pack,” Stiles said softly. “And the Sundays that you’ve been hanging out with Malia. You’ve been working fifty hours a week at the Animal Clinic. I’ve been working my own hours from home. You have no idea what I’ve been doing while you’ve been working.”
Scott looked appalled. “You… you don’t smell like each other!”
Peter tugged Stiles close. He went willingly. Peter wrapped an arm around Stiles to turn them face-to-face and leaned in for a soft kiss. Stiles, figuring it was time to go big or go home, wrapped his arms around Peter, plastered their bodies against each other and pressed their mouths together. Peter wrapped his arms around Stiles and returned the kiss.
Stiles still remembered that kiss. It was hot, and warm. And perfect
"What... what if she's Peter's soul mate?" Scott asked triumphantly.
Peter had sighed but held on to Stiles. Stiles had held on, just as tightly.
"You have to go and check," Scott said, with a hint of Alpha in his voice.
"Only if I get to go, too," Stiles said. "If she is not Peter's soul mate, I am already his boyfriend. I get a say in this."
"You don't have to..." Peter tried to demur.
"Duh. Yes, I do," Stiles said firmly.
"Then we will visit with the McInnis pack," Peter said calmly.
Scott threw up his hands. "Whatever. Just go soon."
Peter nodded. "Yes, Alpha."
Stiles saw Scott's smug face.
Peter held on to Stiles, preventing him from doing something stupid. Stupider.
"Evidently, we have a trip to plan," Peter said. "If you will excuse us..."
Stiles waved as they left. He didn't trust himself to speak civilly.
"I think some food is in order," Peter said as he guided Stiles to his car. "I'll bring you back for your vehicle later."
"Oh. Okay," Stiles nodded.
It was a short drive to a small cafe where Peter obviously knew the staff. They sat in a quiet corner.
"What can I get you?" the waitress asked.
"Coffee and pie, whatever you think best," Peter said.
"Umm... hot tea and whatever pie you're bringing Peter will be fine," Stiles said, following Peter's lead.
"You didn't have to protect me back there," Peter said. "But thank you."
"Scott's an ass," Stiles sighed. "He could have said 'no' right up front but he's obviously looking to get rid of you."
"He's not been a friend to you, either," Peter said. "It was too easy for you to point out that he's not spent time with you recently."
"True," Stiles sighed. "It's like I knew that but, well, you're important to this Pack, too."
"Thank you," Peter nodded his head.
The waitress brought their drinks and pie at that point. Stiles dithered over the variety of teas offered in a basket and finally picked a spicy cinnamon tea. As it steeped, he took a bite of the pie.
"Oh, man! This is excellent," Stiles raved over the simple looking apple pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.
"Only the best," Peter said, enjoying his own pie.
"How'd you find this place?" Stiles asked. "I'm surprised my dad isn't here, like all the time."
"Well, as the Sheriff, I suspect your father already knows it exists. While I've never seen him in here, I would be surprised if he's never been inside," Peter replied. "And, don't give him a hard time about that. He's an adult and knows perfectly well how to take care of himself."
Stiles gave a wry grin. "Yeah. My head knows that but I've been hounding him about taking care of himself for so long that it's a bad habit I can't break."
"Now, while I appreciate what you did earlier, do you understand what you've committed to?" Peter asked.
"Mostly," Stiles nodded. "We have to convince an Alpha that doesn't know us that we're in a committed relationship."
"Which isn't as easy as you might think," Peter warned.
"I'm not going to let you be sold off like a damsel in distress," Stiles said firmly.
"I could just... disappear," Peter said.
"You probably could," Stiles nodded. "But, well, Derek would miss you." I would miss you.
"I would offer to take him with me."
"Oh. Hadn't thought of that. Well, let's keep that as a last option. I'd rather have you hang around. Scott's an awful Alpha and we need all the help we can get."
Peter nodded. "There is that."
"And Deaton doesn't know anything significant about being a 'wolf or most of the monsters-of-the-week," Stiles pointed out. "You've saved our bacon more times than Scott realizes."
"You have been paying attention." Peter looked pleased.
"Until I can get my dad out of here, I'm staying," Stiles said. "So I have a personal interest in keeping the chaos to a minimum. Which means I need you. And now that you need me, it's in our best interest to see this through."
"I agree," Peter nodded.
Stiles slumped in relief. "So. Now what?"
"I'm going to insist on a better wardrobe," Peter said firmly.
Stiles looked down at his usual plaid flannel, graphic t-shirt, and baggy jeans. A major advantage of working from home was the lack of wardrobe requirements. "One of those looking better than the opposition things?"
Peter nodded.
"Okay, but I'll need help with that," Stiles admitted. "I have like one suit that I wear when I have to and even that's off the rack."
"I'll set you up with my tailor. He knows what I prefer and will set you up with everything you'll need."
"How long will we need to be with the McInnis pack?" Stiles asked. "I have plenty of vacation time coming, and I can work from anywhere, if need be."
"I'm hoping three days will suffice, but we should plan on a week." Peter frowned. "I will have to see what information I can get about the Pack before we go."
"If we have any control on how soon we leave, I could use a week to finih up my current work projects before we go. That will also give your tailor time to organize what I need."
"That should be fine," Peter agreed. "Especially since the McInnis pack is assuming I would be coming to stay, I'm allowed time to tie up my life here. In fact, I'm going to insist on two weeks, if that works for you."
"That's even better," Stiles nodded.
When Stiles told his father what was going on, he was furious with both Scott and Stiles. With Scott for agreeing to enforce the betrothal contract. With Stiles for getting involved at all.
"Do you really understand what you've agreed to do?" John asked.
Stiles nodded. "Peter's been helpful to the Pack, even if Scott doesn't see it. And Scott's not been a good friend for a long time. I've not gone against Scott in front of the others but he's done a lot of stupid things that Peter has saved us from. He deserves a chance, if nothing else."
"But what if you find your own soul mate, after you've tied your life to Peter's?" John asked softly.
"I'll deal with that if and when I have to," Stiles replied.
Which is how Stiles found himself on a private plane, flying with Peter to Chicago.
"Scott was right about one thing," Peter said. "We do need to smell more like each other."
"Where should we start?"
"We have a three hours before we'll be in Chicago. Take off your shirt, mostly so we don't wrinkle it too much, and we can cuddle together," Peter said.
"We could watch a movie or something," Stiles suggested as he stood. He took off the blazer and dress shirt, leaving the t-shirt on. He kicked off his shoes and tugged off the socks.
"Are there snacks?" Stiles asked, looking around the plane.
"Most likely," Peter said. "Check it out." He waved at the back of the plane.
Stiles found sodas in the small refrigerator and offered one to Peter, who shook his head. "There's a microwave. I can make some tea if you want," Stiles offered.
Peter made a that's awful face. "No. I'll take a bottle of water, if there is one."
"Sure!" Stiles grabbed the water.
There were single-serving bags of chips and snack crackers that Stiles grabbed a handful of and put on the small countertop.
Stiles opened one of the sodas and jumped back when it started foaming and spilling almost the entire contents down the side of the can and onto the carpet. Stiles mopped up what he could with the paper napkins available.
"Damn. That one must have been shaken at one point." He grabbed another and opened it more carefully. It opened properly, something Stiles was grateful for.
Peter set up a pair of chairs that also reclined. He had taken off his own shirt and shoes but had kept on his socks. He found a lightweight blanket and offered it to Stiles.
Stiles settled in and offered Peter some chips. Peter delicately took two chips and returned the bag to Stiles.
"Damn. Napkins. Be right back." Stiles scurried to the back to grab some napkins.
Stiles spread the blanket over both of them. "Cuddling under a blanket. It's a thing."
"If we must," Peter nodded agreement. He put an arm on the back of the chair and let Stiles settle close. He dropped his hand on Stiles' shoulder, his cheek on the top of Stiles' head.
"This is nice," Stiles said softly.
Peter dropped a soft kiss on the top of Stiles' head.
"What are we going to watch?" Stiles asked.
"Well, we have a choice of The Notebook..."
Stiles jabbed a finger in Peter's side. "Don't even think it!"
"I know you've seen it, but The Witcher is on the menu," Peter continued with a small grin.
"Wolf thinks he's funny," Stiles teased. "The Witcher is fine. I love looking at pretty people."
Stiles kept up a running commentary through the episodes, Peter having his own ideas about the characters. It was fun.
Stiles yawned.
"We have at least another hour," Peter said. "Take a nap."
"You are warm and cuddly," Stiles grinned. "Watch whatever you want, it won't bother me."
Stiles woke warm and comfortable.
"Hey, sleepyhead," Peter pulled him close. "We need to get ready for landing in a bit."
"Yeah. Okay." Stiles stayed where he was for the moment, enjoying being close to Peter. He wanted to stay right where he was forever.
"How did I know you'd be like this?" Peter teased. "Wakey, wakey."
Stiles peeled one eye open. "Wakey, wakey? I'm not six, you know."
"Oh, I know, sweetheart," Peter said with a smile. "You just looked so... cute."
Stiles sat up and stretched. "I'll take cute," he grinned. Without thinking, he leaned in for a quick kiss.
Peter's small smile let Stiles know that he had done it right.
Stiles got up and used the relatively luxurious bathroom. He found a toothbrush and toothpaste in a drawer and used that to freshen up. He splashed water on his face and ran his fingers through his hair.
Peter was up and moving when Stiles came out. He saw where Peter was walking and didn't get to give a warning before Peter stepped in the spilled soda from earlier.
"Sorry, you were there before I could warn you," Stiles apologized.
Peter frowned at the foot. "It's cold and sticky," he complained.
"Take the sock off and I'll rinse it in the sink," Stiles offered. "If I stick it in the microwave, it should be mostly dry by the time we land."
"That will work?" Peter asked.
Stiles laughed. "Broke college student at one time! It's better than nothing."
Peter leaned over and peeled off the sock. "I guess you can't make it any worse," he admitted.
"Take your time in the bathroom." Stiles waved a hand. "This will take a couple of minutes."
"Okay," Peter nodded. He went into the bathroom.
Stiles rinsed the sock out in the minuscule sink, at least there was warm water to help get the sugar out. He wrung out the sock with his hands, then wrung it out again with a handful of paper towels to take out more of the water. The sock was still damp but it was no longer soaking wet. He put it between more paper towels and then put it in the microwave. He checked it a minute at a time and decided after three minutes it was probably as good as it would get.
He was waving it about to cool the sock off when Peter came out of the bathroom.
"Done?" Peter asked.
"Give it another minute," Stiles said, waving the sock around. "It's too warm to know if it's dry for sure."
"Okay," Peter nodded. He went back to their seats and sat down, automatically crossing his legs with the bare foot up in the air.
Time stopped.
Peter realized Stiles was staring at the bare foot and quickly placed it on the floor.
"No. I... I need to see," Stiles whispered as he moved closer. "I know it's personal..." He looked Peter in the eyes. "Please."
Reluctantly, Peter lifted the foot so that Stiles could see the soul mark on the instep of Peter's foot. Stiles moved closer, kneeling on the floor next to Peter. He reached out, then took his hand back before he could touch.
With both hands, Stiles in a single motion stripped off the t-shirt he was still wearing. He released the spell that guarded his mark. He held up his arm to show to Peter.
The same rabbit was in both places.
"Stiles..." Peter was stunned.
Stiles surged up into Peter's lap. He wound his arms about Peter and plastered his mouth to Peter's. Peter didn't hesitate to return the kiss and bring Stiles impossibly close.
Throat clearing behind them brought them back to awareness.
"Sorry, but we're nearing Chicago and I have to ask you to prepare for landing," the pilot said.
Stiles giggled. The pilot had probably seen worse but it was still embarrassing to be caught unaware like that.
"Brat," Peter teased, giving Stile a soft kiss. "Come on, let's get ready to land."
"All right," Stiles said, moving reluctantly into the seat next to Peter. "Oh. Here's your sock."
"Grab your t-shirt," Peter said. "We can finish dressing after the plane lands."
Stiles pulled his t-shirt on and buckled the seat belt. "Oh. Wait. Isn't someone from the Pack meeting us?"
"They'll have to wait inside the terminal. So we'll have a chance to straighten ourselves out."
"Oh. Good." He held out his hand and Peter intertwined their fingers.
"I would think this makes everything easier," Stiles said.
"Mostly," Peter nodded. "They will be annoyed but there's nothing they can do about it. We will have to show our marks to the Alpha and probably to his Emissary, so be prepared for that."
"That makes sense," Stiles agreed. "I'll do whatever I have to in order to keep you."
"And you are totally unexpected in my life," Peter admitted softly. "I never expected someone like you."
Stiles smiled.
The plane landed and the pilot opened the door for them. "When you're ready, gentlemen."
"Two minutes," Peter acknowledged.
"Your bags from underneath will be on a cart," the man said. "That will make it easier to manage what you've brought."
"Good to know," Peter said as he put on his sock and shoes. They were quickly dressed. Peter took the suit bags and Stiles had his carry-on and they exited the plane. The cart had a hook for the suit bags and Peter took advantage of that. Stiles set his bag on the cart and pushed it toward the terminal.
Inside the terminal, Stiles wondered how everyone didn't know the two men waiting for them were 'wolves. They were large, hirsute, and had a resting bitch face that rivaled Derek's.
Good thing Stiles had a lot of experience in ignoring that.
"Mr. Hale? Mr. Stilinski?" Thing One asked. "Mr. McInnis sends his greetings."
Thing Two reached out toward the cart. "Let me help you with that."
Stiles surrendered the cart and Thing One led the way to a waiting SUV. Thing Two placed the luggage in the rear of the car, Peter watching how he handled the suit bags. Peter didn't say anything, so it must have been acceptable.
They were ushered into the back seat of the SUV and Thing One drove.
Stiles reached over and took Peter's hand. Thing Two started a sub-vocal growl that he kept up for the entire ride.
"We will take your bags to your rooms," Thing One announced when they arrived. "George will escort you to Alpha McInnis."
"Thank you," Peter murmured. He didn't let go of Stiles' hand.
George took them inside the mansion and to a meeting room near the front door.
"Beta Hale and Mr. Stilinski," George announced with not quite a sneer.
"Thank you, George," McInnis replied. "That is all."
George shot them a glare as he closed the door to the room and left.
"Come in, come in," McInnis waved a hand. "Don't mind George. He's kind of rough around the edges but he's a sweetheart underneath."
"Good to know," Peter replied genially.
"So, I understand you and this young man are in a relationship." McInnis got right to the point.
"We are," Peter replied.
McInnis frowned. "Alpha McCall called back and voiced his doubts about the veracity of your relationship. He seems to think that you are pretending to be in a relationship to try to protect Beta Hale from fulfilling the contract."
"Fucking Scott," Stiles growled. He was instantly furious.
"Stiles, sweetheart," Peter said gently.
Stiles turned to face Peter. "Yes?"
"You're glowing." He flicked his eyes toward Alpha McInnis. "I think Alpha McInnis is a bit worried."
Stiles looked at his arms and realized Peter was right. "Oh. Sorry." He took a deep breath and focused on pulling in his magic. He turned to McInnis. "My apologies. Alpha McCall has called our integrity into question, which is personally upsetting."
McInnis looked between them. "It appears that Mr. Stilinski is more than what he seems at first glance."
"Which is not important," Peter said immediately. "We knew Alpha McCall would frown on our relationship, which is why we hid it from him. He is... young and does not always appreciate what Stiles and I bring to his pack."
Stiles leaned against Peter. "Let's cut to the chase. Peter and I are soul mates. We'll hang around for a couple of days to let everyone save face. But we're leaving together. That is not negotiable."
McInnis was taken aback for a moment, then roared with laughter.
"Okay, I like you," he admitted, pointing a finger at Stiles. "And, no offense, now I don't want you in my Pack. I suspect you'd be more trouble than you're worth."
"Thank you. I think." Stiles nodded. But he was relieved at how reasonable McInnis was being about this.
"While I'm disappointed not to have a Hale in my Pack, it really is for the best," McInnis said. "Please don't repeat this, but I'm not supposed to know that George and my daughter Norah are dating."
"Ah! That explains the growling," Stiles grinned.
McInnis rolled his eyes. "That boy is not subtle." He hesitated. "I do have to ask to see your marks. Sorry."
"Not a problem," Peter replied. "We expected that and are prepared to share that with you."
"Let's get that over with, then," McInnis nodded.
Peter sat in a chair and removed his shoe and sock. Stiles took off his blazer and dress shirt, lifting his t-shirt.
"Very nice," McInnis said. "Thank you."
Peter and Stiles straightened themselves.
"Okay. I'm not going to let George off the hook right away," McInnis decided. "If you'd play along? Just through dinner."
"Just through dinner," Peter agreed.
Dinner was awkward and even Stiles could see that Norah McInnis had no interest in any kind of a relationship with Peter Hale. McInnis waited until dessert to announce that since Peter and Stiles were soul mates, that he'd have to find another match for Norah.
Evidently, Norah finally had enough and stood up.
"I don't care who you bring in, papa," she announced. "I'm going to marry George and that's the end of it."
"Glad you finally stood up for yourself," McInnis grinned. "I wondered what it would take for you to do that."
Norah's face flamed and she huffed before leaving the room.
McInnis turned to Stiles and Peter. "Stay the night, since you came this far. You're welcome to stay longer, if you want. We have plenty of space."
"We will be glad to stay the night," Peter replied easily. "But Stiles and I have other plans for the rest of our time away from home. After breakfast, we would appreciate a ride back to the airport, if that's not inconvenient."
As they prepared for dinner, Peter had made a reservation in a very nice hotel in Denver. They'd be away from both Packs and could have some time alone. Not that they would be telling anyone that.
"That's not a problem at all!" McInnis beamed. "Thank you for coming."
"Our pleasure," Peter replied.