Numair looked at him quietly with a slight, discerning frown. "I trust you," he said finally, and continued making himself comfortable against Hawk's side. Then he added, "...It might be the same for me, you know, at times. There will be things you'll be all the safer for not knowing."

"I trust you," Hawk echoed without hesitating. "We're equal."

"Yes." Numair adjusted himself, and retrieved the notebook that had been resting on his lap while he'd slept, which had ended up shunted somewhere in the bed as they'd laid down together. "...I suppose it's just as well," he said ruefully. "I couldn't think of a way to get the weapon to the Treiha without getting you involved. I wouldn't want to put you under their eye even if we didn't have our 'secret' to keep."

"Hey, I thought you said no more working in bed?" Hawk asked lightly, as Numair brought the notebook into view.

"Oh, this isn't work." Numair gave him the notebook, open about halfway through; Hawk raised it up to look at the contents. "I noticed Sraddi's glamour is wearing a bit thin, so I was making notes on some other things I wanted to fix for her." He added in a mutter, "...Whenever I've got time again."

As Hawk wordlessly studied the notebook, Numair settled down with his cheek pressed against Hawk's skin. He murmured, "You know, I sent a message to the Investigators' Bureau hours ago and they haven't bothered to reply."