OOM: Bogotá on fight night

[latino_menace]

He'd never really thought that Fiona would take him up on his casual offer to come to watch him fight. Not that it seemed like she was full of shit or anything...but she is a woman. They say things easily, they're flippant and don't have the stomach for anything rough

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[justcallmefee]

She turns on a dime at the sound of his voice, and the sight of him makes her heart leap into her throat. For some reason, she thought maybe he'd never come back. But there he is, young and magnificent, and full piss and vinegar.

Fiona, quit staring, he asked you a question. She lifts her chin a little, a touch of that wildness showing in her eyes.

"Which is it? Dinner or the fights?"

[latino_menace]

'Fights.'

He says it like it's obvious.

'It's Friday.'

He's a little different to the times she's met him before, if she's observant. Whereas before he was confident and arrogant and smirking at the world, tonight he's confident and arrogant with a dark look in his eye. Perhaps it's the impending scrap, perhaps it's the week he's had. Or both.

[justcallmefee]

Her hand comes to rest on the leather hip purse she's carrying. Ever since the tree incident, she's made a habit of carrying the .45 and a couple of spare mags with her wherever she goes.

She pushes off from her chair like it's offended her somehow, and stalks towards.

"Lead the way."

[latino_menace]

He tilts his head in acknowledgement and heads for the door, holding it open for her. It leads to his house in Bogota - the one he keeps for his personal use, though he still has a room in his father's house as well. It's clean enough (cleaners have been in) but there are still a few half empty bottles lying around his room, a few full ashtrays and the bed is unmade.

'I'd ask if you wanted to spend a few hours examining my ceiling but we'll be late.'

The smirk has returned, it seems. He walks to a shelf and starts filling his pockets with cash, adding a knife and his 'duster last.

'Our ride will be here in a minute. You want a drink?'

He's already walking out of the room, rolling his shoulders a little. He trusts she'll follow.