Kennedy was supposed to be home in New York tonight, helping with the last few days of moving preparations. In fact, that was what she'd been doing, but apparently all her well-meaning offers of assistance were really just wreaking havoc on Willow's carefully constructed System. So, she'd been persuaded (like that was hard) to go out and patrol,
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He briefly considered putting on a wig or something, though. But in the end he vetoed that idea. So now he was just sliding in to the booth next to Kennedy. "Whatever happens, don't let me suggest any impromptu trips anywhere," he advised.
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Was she going to regret this?
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She accepted Bobby's glass and took a sip. "Oh, it is good. I like the fruitiness."
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"What's this about slashing?" she asked, sidling up to him with a drink in her hand and an eyebrow arched with amusement. "Two minutes of it, what?"
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You should have said that from the beginning, Bobby. Duh.
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Emma, stop reading people's brains. It was drinking time, not pick-on-Bobby-time.
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