[Tate takes more like ten minutes to get ready, swapping into cleaner clothes and a warmer fleece lined work shirt for the walk over to the Den from the treehouse. He's still in Converse and jeans though, so whatever snow he trudges through wets the hems and soaks into his dragging shoelaces on the way. When the door slides open he looks at Derek, then slips inside, rubbing his hands together to warm them before heading toward the living area's sofa to sit down.
It's then that he reaches for a beer, looking over the label before starting to crack it open. Then he flicks his gaze back to Derek, raising his brows as if he expects something more. But really, he's pretty at ease - slouching a bit in his seat to take a swig of beer.]
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It's then that he reaches for a beer, looking over the label before starting to crack it open. Then he flicks his gaze back to Derek, raising his brows as if he expects something more. But really, he's pretty at ease - slouching a bit in his seat to take a swig of beer.]
Where's the tripod?