(no subject)
There's been time enough to get her bearings. Bobby's place is, well, Bobby's place. It's a hut, for fuck's sake, but it's his. Pam has wandered around a little, one hand on the wall, and when she finally ventures away a little she uses sound and scent to guide her back. Every step away proves that dead or alive, she has balls of steel.
Today she met a man and he was nice. She's got a way with guys and she has to admit, the vulnerable thing is good for both business and getting an escort to the nearest bar. He was English, she could tell that much from his accent. He was scarred up, too- that was obvious when she took his arm. He chatted with her about the island and being new, and then a little about veterinary medicine. She didn't give a crap about any of it, but she had listened politely until she was settled at the bar.
Pam had thought when she showed up that it would be too hot for her coat, but the temperature isn't that bad. It's not like Memphis in July, more like Hawaii, with those sweet ocean breezes. Still, there's a smell in the air, and a weight to it that she's not used to. She's got her jacket, but it does little to cover up Jesse Forever across her lower back. At least she's got a clean black wifebeater instead of the blood soaked wreck of her favorite Ramones shirt.
Pam sighs and waits. A lone woman at a bar is the universal symbol for 'someone needs to buy her a drink'...except if she's got it right, there's no money needed.
"Can I get something strong?" she asks the air, and for a moment wonders if she really means a drink. A heartbeat later she decides that yes- Yes she does.
[Pam's at the Winchester. This is NOT the gathering post for the blizzard (that's tomorrow), just a chick who needs a drink]
Today she met a man and he was nice. She's got a way with guys and she has to admit, the vulnerable thing is good for both business and getting an escort to the nearest bar. He was English, she could tell that much from his accent. He was scarred up, too- that was obvious when she took his arm. He chatted with her about the island and being new, and then a little about veterinary medicine. She didn't give a crap about any of it, but she had listened politely until she was settled at the bar.
Pam had thought when she showed up that it would be too hot for her coat, but the temperature isn't that bad. It's not like Memphis in July, more like Hawaii, with those sweet ocean breezes. Still, there's a smell in the air, and a weight to it that she's not used to. She's got her jacket, but it does little to cover up Jesse Forever across her lower back. At least she's got a clean black wifebeater instead of the blood soaked wreck of her favorite Ramones shirt.
Pam sighs and waits. A lone woman at a bar is the universal symbol for 'someone needs to buy her a drink'...except if she's got it right, there's no money needed.
"Can I get something strong?" she asks the air, and for a moment wonders if she really means a drink. A heartbeat later she decides that yes- Yes she does.
[Pam's at the Winchester. This is NOT the gathering post for the blizzard (that's tomorrow), just a chick who needs a drink]