Greta's Penthouse - Saturday
Greta opened the door with a flourish. She danced to imaginary music into the apartment, pressed play on the cd player as she passed and flopped down onto the bed in the middle of the room. Leaning over the side, she poured two glasses of wine and picking them up, held one out to Murdock. "Come on, darling. I don't bite." She paused for a second, looking away, "Or do I?" she mused.