The relief of the shade beneath the trees' canopy dulls the edge of his nascent headache immediately. Asadi seems content to simply deposit herself on the coolness of the ground, but Rush is less willing to surrender to the lack of logic in abandoning himself to gravity's unrelenting pull while dreaming for fuck's sake. He settles against the knobbed bark of one of the trees while Arista nimbly scales its trunk to perch precariously on the branch directly above his head, raining him with entirely too much arboreal debris and dislodged twigs for it to be wholly unintentional. He glares at her. She blinks slowly back, unrepentant and smug.

Rush sighs.

He would be far less restless were he awake and productive, possibly re-evaluating Jones's data prior to sending it. His fingers twitch as he crosses his arms. He aches for the rattling, reassuring tap of a keyboard, the sliding click of a drive into its appropriate port.

He will simply have to wait until waking.

Asadi does not seem to mind it.

For the time being, neither will he.

Arista shifts fractionally on her branch, again showering him with fragments of bark as she whispers in a nearly soundless hiss of teeth, "liar."