Bobby crept along the rooftop after Remy, making damned sure he didn't put his feet anywhere but where Remy stepped.  All the instructions Remy had given him were, surprisingly, holding.  Of course, he wasn't entirely unsure there wouldn't be a pop quiz later.

He stretched his shoulder, as Remy paused at the rooftop entrance.  The bag he was toting was heavy.  "You need anything?" he whispered.

Remy held a hand out, and Bobby passed him the bag. Remy got whatever he was looking for and then handed Bobby a penlight.  "Hold this f' me."

Bobby nodded, and took the light.  He hunkered down and tried to illuminate the, box. Thing. The area that Remy was working on.  He couldn't believe that they'd spent two hours on the roof of the adjacent building just last night, getting cramped and cold and 'listening' - when the security here wasn't even sonar.

Bobby stretched his shoulder again, rolling it against the mild ache that was forming.  He couldn't quite see what Remy was doing, and he was.  okay.  He was bored.

Remy said, "Stop that, cher."

Bobby blinked.  "I'm not doing anything!"

Remy reached over, fumbling, and Bobby passed him the little ascetalyne torch.  "Y' humming, Bobby."

"I am not."

Remy turned around on his heels, a feat well nigh impossible for someone less graceful than, oh, say, a national level ballet dancer.  "Y' are too."

Bobby sniffed, shifting the penlight to his other hand.  He whispered, "It helps me to concentrate."

Remy pulled his goggles down, and Bobby closed his eyes.  He could see the bright burn of the torch behind his eyelids, and he knew that Remy was cutting into the box thing, whatever it was.  "It helps me not concentrate," Remy answered.  "And since you're th' one holdin' the flashlight, an' I'm th' one cuttin' the security box open, I think I win."

"You were the one who told me to hold the flashlight," Bobby said, and the bright white light behind his eyes faded, leaving kind of green-y reddish patched in its wake.  He opened his eyes.  "So."

Remy said, "tools, s'il vous plait," and then, "this kinda thing, it's usually solo work, cher."