Getting down to business (RP for Fred)
For __fredburkle
Lilah wonders if she'll be wearing the glasses.
She knows there are other things she should be thinking about. She's playing a dangerous game; several of them at once, in fact -- and Fred is just another potential pawn. Well, maybe Fred will turn out to be a knight or a rook; no use underestimating her. The woman's brain has certainly been in great demand, and she asked all the right questions when Lilah initiated the meeting. No, she shouldn't think of Fred Burkle as a just another expendable piece. That's all right. A castle is powerful in the right hands. So long as Lilah gets to be the queen, she won't complain.
Yet she can't help thinking about those glasses. Red teardrop frames, designer made. They could take a lot of abuse -- like, apparently, five years in a hell dimension -- and it was a bitch to find a replica on short notice, as Lilah had reason to know.
As she waits, in her comfortable office, for Fred's arrival, Lilah goes through Arvin Sloane's files, for the hundredth time, removes the necessary documents, makes sure she's burned everything that needs burning, and logs onto E-bay to stare resentfully at an alleged Gucci clutch that she can't afford, even at the seller's suspiciously discounted rate. She hits refresh to see how many times her embarrassingly low bid has been surpassed. That's right, Morgan, remember what you're in it for. A few weeks and you won't even be thinking of looking at a fucking Internet auction.
She closes the browser, whirls around in her chair, and hopes Fred will get there on time.
The girl behind the glasses. This ought to be interesting.
Lilah wonders if she'll be wearing the glasses.
She knows there are other things she should be thinking about. She's playing a dangerous game; several of them at once, in fact -- and Fred is just another potential pawn. Well, maybe Fred will turn out to be a knight or a rook; no use underestimating her. The woman's brain has certainly been in great demand, and she asked all the right questions when Lilah initiated the meeting. No, she shouldn't think of Fred Burkle as a just another expendable piece. That's all right. A castle is powerful in the right hands. So long as Lilah gets to be the queen, she won't complain.
Yet she can't help thinking about those glasses. Red teardrop frames, designer made. They could take a lot of abuse -- like, apparently, five years in a hell dimension -- and it was a bitch to find a replica on short notice, as Lilah had reason to know.
As she waits, in her comfortable office, for Fred's arrival, Lilah goes through Arvin Sloane's files, for the hundredth time, removes the necessary documents, makes sure she's burned everything that needs burning, and logs onto E-bay to stare resentfully at an alleged Gucci clutch that she can't afford, even at the seller's suspiciously discounted rate. She hits refresh to see how many times her embarrassingly low bid has been surpassed. That's right, Morgan, remember what you're in it for. A few weeks and you won't even be thinking of looking at a fucking Internet auction.
She closes the browser, whirls around in her chair, and hopes Fred will get there on time.
The girl behind the glasses. This ought to be interesting.