He expected more push-back. She trusted him. And oddly enough, despite trying to run down her shadow, he trusted her. Whistler instinctively knew that, given access, she wouldn't go digging through the dark corners of his memory.

"Okay, then." He really needed a smoke.

Idea.

"Think of somethin' you can't do without. An object or whatnot. It's your touchstone. You feel like you're gettin' lost, think on it. It'll bring ya back."

Whistler laced his fingers together and cracked his knuckles, then held out his right hand. He nodded towards it.

"Need to make a physical connection for this to work."