Dead Reckoning: in the back private pod

[cuttingslack]

In the last private pod of the Reckoning trailer, there's a double bed with black sheets, whitewashed walls (this is the only room that has any white in it at all), a small table with a pot of freshly-woven roses (woven as Po made them for her, they can't be picked anywhere in the wastes), and an armoir with a mirror

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[ash__evildead]

There's a knock at the door.

There's probably only one other person she knows who'd be awake at this hour.

[ash__evildead]

After several minutes that seem more like hours, he manages to regain some composure.

"Sorry."

[cuttingslack]

"Sayin' sorry to the wrong person."

Instinctively, she rubs his back. Part of her job, on Dead Reckoning, in the Green, no matter, was to be calming when she had to be.

It didn't happen much. But it happened.

[ash__evildead]

He wipes his nose on his sleeve. Classy.

"That was embarrassing."

[cuttingslack]

"I'm going to tell everyone here in the sane part of the morning. And then I'll go back to the bar and tell everyone there, and ... gee, I wonder if the security cam was on in here?"

She's teasing him, but she thinks it's for the best.

Maybe it is.

[ash__evildead]

Oddly enough, it is. He mock-pouts at her.

"Hey. I'd think twice about that if you still want that trip to Detroit."

And she probably thought he'd forgotten about it.

[cuttingslack]

She did.

"I'll go steal the tape back, if you want. I know how Pritt handles 'em. Besides, usually my room's ... special. I've got clients."

Which is said in an entirely professional manner.

"You want to sleep here? I don't mind."

[ash__evildead]

He nods, already yawning.

"Thanks, kid."

[cuttingslack]

"You bet."

Slack wrapped her robe around herself, and a blanket around him, and curled into her customary little ball.

Sleep is your friend.

It fixes things.

Mostly.