He chuckled uneasily. "Personal visit? Should I be worried?" He honestly had no idea what she was implying with that, and he didn't want to assume that it was what he was hoping it was.
Desmond liked to think that he was a good man in many ways. He was an active and productive member of society, when he took care of a woman to sate his own desires he made sure that she got satisfaction out of it as well, and he donated blood regularly.
"Ah--whichever you like," he glanced up at the top of the phone booth, noticing with some distress that it was rather grungy (and that now that he looked harder for it, the rest of the booth was also). "I mean -- a personal visit wouldn't be unwelcome." If that was what she wanted.
He thought about passive-aggressively asking whether she was going to be busy with that girl from the journals, but such pettiness seemed a bit below him even if he did feel jealous over their exchange.
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