And from the ballroom floor we are in celebration. One good stretch before our hibernation
This was so ridiculous.
Kate had been pacing about her room for an hour, turning her closet, drawers, and piles of laundry inside out in search of anything in her wardrobe vaguely suitable for dinner. Well, dinner as in dinner date. With a vampire. Who was also over a hundred years old and probably had a very different idea of formal than she did. Yeah.
Since when did she give a shit ? Really? This was totally not what she did. Kate Freelander did not get flustered over a date. (Or at least, she shouldn't, since she'd never reaaaally been on a real date before.) She'd spent the better part of her life not caring what anyone thought of her, and she shouldn't start now.
But clean clothes were a good start.
After a few more excavations of her various piles of clothing, she managed to come across something suitable for anything other than crawling through sewers. A quick shower later, she dressed, glancing at the clock before slipping into the leggings, tunic top and ankle boots she'd picked out. Top that off with one of her nicer leather jackets (one actually lacking any scuffs, clawmarks, or mysterious red stains), and it was about as good as one might expect. After a moment of indecision, she also pulled her still slightly damp hair up except for the shorter, errant strands in the front. There was no time ot straighten it anyway.
Feeling quite a bit silly, but finally prepared at least, Kate sat down heavily on her couch and waited.
After slipping her nine mil into her purse, of course.
Kate had been pacing about her room for an hour, turning her closet, drawers, and piles of laundry inside out in search of anything in her wardrobe vaguely suitable for dinner. Well, dinner as in dinner date. With a vampire. Who was also over a hundred years old and probably had a very different idea of formal than she did. Yeah.
Since when did she give a shit ? Really? This was totally not what she did. Kate Freelander did not get flustered over a date. (Or at least, she shouldn't, since she'd never reaaaally been on a real date before.) She'd spent the better part of her life not caring what anyone thought of her, and she shouldn't start now.
But clean clothes were a good start.
After a few more excavations of her various piles of clothing, she managed to come across something suitable for anything other than crawling through sewers. A quick shower later, she dressed, glancing at the clock before slipping into the leggings, tunic top and ankle boots she'd picked out. Top that off with one of her nicer leather jackets (one actually lacking any scuffs, clawmarks, or mysterious red stains), and it was about as good as one might expect. After a moment of indecision, she also pulled her still slightly damp hair up except for the shorter, errant strands in the front. There was no time ot straighten it anyway.
Feeling quite a bit silly, but finally prepared at least, Kate sat down heavily on her couch and waited.
After slipping her nine mil into her purse, of course.