[ John nods. They understand each other, at least. And the part of John's mind that is always number-crunching makes a mark in a mental column, cross-section of the White Council and Harry Dresden rows: Becoming Warden has not cured Dresden's disdain for the Council. Good to know, the enemy of my enemy, et cetera. ]

[ Let's take a stab in the dark, John thinks, and gets up. ] Well, if that is all you require, my sofa is free. While you do that, I'll just go about my business. You don't need me for an evening nap. [ Unless of course Dresden does. ]

((OOC: Bedtime, but omg, having a ball with this, eeeee! Will reply in morning.))