Eva walks in from the cafe, tired and dragging her feet from the dancing. Even slow, melancholy tangos can wear down the body. Like everything, it's all in moderation. Eva has had too much. She slumps on a barstool, orders a glass of wine, and people-watches, her head resting on the palm of her hand, her elbow propped against the bar.

Even a man like Leander Hastings needs a drink every so often. This one is being enjoyed in a booth near the back, with his back to the wall and his eyes on the doors. The events at Raven's Ghyll were encouraging, of course, a giant jump forward and his heart was lighter than it'd been in years ( Read more... )

"Teddy, honey--" The boy was crying again and it was for that reason that she stepped out of the kitchen to go and pick him up from the play pen ... or she would have done so if she hadn't stepped out into some other place entirely.

She tensed, glancing around for a long moment before she resolved to simply sit down and figure out where she was.

The cheeky-faced nineteen-year-old who appears in the bar doesn't notice its appearance at first: she's engrossed in the electronic notepad in her hands. When she does realise that she's not in her bedroom, her bright blue eyes sweep the place, her hand dropping automatically to the gun on her hip.

"...Huh," says Nix Gordon, eloquently.

CJ has had a very long day indeed, so when she finds a bar where her office should be it doesn't even raise a snarky remark, just her well-marked eyebrows.

"I knew they were redecorating, but..."

Someone come explain matters to the puzzled, if pleased, Press Secretary?