Small smile. "Thanks, I appreciate it. ... I need to make a short phone call while we wait for food. Is it okay for me to do that here, or would you like me to head elsewhere?" 

"You're welcome. Here is fine!"

Time to get her own phone and inform it and the house that she isn't backlashed.

She pokes her commscreen.

"This is Causal Web, calling for Mister Baxter. Yes." Pause. "It'll be short. Yes, I can wait." She pulls up her newsfeed and scrolls as she does. 

"Mister Baxter, this is Causal Web." Pause. "Thanks for finding the time to talk to me, I know you're busy. I'm calling about the staff meeting on July 12th. You mentioned consulting a specialist before the merger. Can I get some details..." Pause. "Mister Baxter, Pemberton media lost four hundred million pounds this quarter. The board hired me to -"

Emily writes oblique notes for what she needs to do later in her to do list, but listens with half an ear.

... Ah. That's a reason someone might hire Casual Web, yes.

She rolls her eyes. "Mister Baxter, I recommend you look up my power before you decide to try stonewalling me like this, because it is simply not going to work. I know you hired someone prior to throwing your support behind the restructuring, as was mentioned in the July 12th staff meeting. The only thing you will accomplish here is wasting my time and Pemberton's money, and I will make a note of it when I submit an itemized invoice to the board and I do not think they will be very - no, Mister Baxter. I understand you are upset, but it is not blackmail for me to tell you about the legal action I am contractually obligated to perform if you don't compl -" 

"No, actually, that's incorrect! Your personal life is of course protected by law and I will not be looking at it. But your contract with Pemberton waives that right for work-related activity during inquiries by certified psychics hired by the company, and - Mister Baxter, I strongly recommend you consult with your lawyer about the specifics here before making threats like that! And then, once you have, please email me the name of that specialist." 

Pause. "Of course. Good day, Mister Baxter." She ends the call. 

Wow! Emily is absolutely not going to take any actions or draw any larger inferences from that, but the world definitely has people in it who do incorrect things that she would try not to do.

By the void does it ever.

(She hopes the guy will comply, but she's not optimistic. It's really starting to look like his inability to make reasonable decisions when stressed is why she's in London at all.)

She excuses herself to use the bathroom WC. 

Right over there! Emily is going to walk around inside while they wait for food to arrive.

Excellent, thanks.

When she gets back, their food is about to arrive, which is visible to both of them because she's projecting the tracking info into the air above them.

"Want me to get that?" (Neither of them are wearing enough clothing for the task, but she can put her dress back on for a bit.)

"That would be brilliant, if you're willing?" (Emily's clothing wouldn't take that much longer, but there are more components, and she's currently experiencing the joys of walking around after spending a while in bed not doing very much.)

Sure, she can slip her dress back on and then slip out the door, returning a few moments later with a large bag full of Indian food.

Meanwhile, Emily sets out plates and utensils and water bottles. And then they can have Indian takeaway!

Yep! It's pretty good. (Thanks, Jenny.)

Causal Web eats with businesslike efficiency and is mostly scanning her news feed while she does (though she's not opposed to conversation, if Emily wants).

Reading on phones while eating is perfectly fine!

(The texture of fish is very bad, as always, but it's important, and she doesn't have to react to that. The rest of the food is predictably good, after.)

Causal Web, blissfully unaware of Fish Texture Problems, will finish up her meal and consolidate her leftovers. "May I store this in your fridge?" 

"Of course!" The fridge is over here. "... Also, I'm not sure if you care, but if you do, I have mouthwash or spare toothbrushes?"

Causal Web holds up a travel-sized thing of mouthwash and smiles. "I have one I like, but thanks."

Food can go in the fridge. Mouthwash can go into her mouth for a minute and then into the bathroom sink. Dress can be removed and folded and back onto her pile of clothes.

Tidying away dishes and remaining food, using mouthwash and then water, putting phone and house into backlash mode, and then she's ready to guide.

Yep, time to get back to work. (...sigh.)

She'll let Emily get into the bed first, then arrange herself appropriately in her guide's arms. 

And then they can be in large amounts of contact, with one and two arms free, respectively.

Casual Web retrieves her next anchor from its plastic bag. "Alright. Starting up again."

She takes a deep breath, and gets back to it.

Time to move marbles and fold paper and look through other patterns to fold.

After about twenty three minutes, she stops using her power, and begins fighting with her backlash for control of her mouth. 

Nine, ten, then to be safe in case she's counting too quickly, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen—