Set Me Free, After Three Days In The Ground

[justcallmefee]

When Fi left Michael's place at 5am, she'd been intent on going home to sleep in her own bed.  She still smelled vaguely of accelerant, her hair was singed, and her nerves were well and truly fried.  Michael's little melt down didn't help clear matters up.

It occurred to her that life in a war zone was far easier to deal with.   Get up.  Get moving

Comments

[henry_jones_jr]

Indy is next in through the front door, sporting a well-tailored navy three piece and a far dressier fedora than normal. Judging by his brow-beaten expression, he could use a drink too. He trudges over to the bar and deposits a stuffed attache case under his chosen stool.

There's a straight bourbon already waiting for him on the counter. Pardon him for partaking in it before he checks out the current clientele.

[justcallmefee]

Fi tilts her head and takes a long sip off her Tequila Sunrise, taking in the sight of him. She's never seen him looking quite so presentable. He's distracted, that much is evident. It is within her nature to take advantage of such moments and so she does, watching him shamelessly.

There is nothing quite as delectable as a man in a well-tailored suit, she thinks.

This is clearly the universe rubbing her nose in it.

[henry_jones_jr]

The liquor works its revitalization magic in typically efficient fashion. A few gulps and a gratified sigh later, Indy glances around for the first time.

His eyes immediately come to rest on a blurry figure nearby, possibly female, who appears to be gazing at him unabashedly. It's at this point that Indy remembers to remove his reading glasses.

"Ah. That's better," he chuckles.

A crooked smile takes shape.

"Hello, stranger."

[justcallmefee]

This is a different Fiona, perhaps, than the one he tangled with at Milliways a few weeks ago. There is a hardness around her eyes and mouth. She looks almost predatory.

"Hey you. You look nice," she drawls. "Nothing like a man who knows how to wear a suit."

Still a flirt, if you considered circling sharks flirtatious.

[miami_axe]

Sam sidles in next to her, a beer cradled in one hand. His shirt is obnoxious, as usual.

"What was the name of that guy, again?"

[justcallmefee]

Fiona does her best not to choke on her drink. She left Sam back in Miami. No, wrong Sam. This is Milliway's Sam. (Funny that the other Sam didn't even mention the Bar.)

She gives him a look. "'That guy.' Sam, you're going to have to be a little bit more specific than that."

[miami_axe]

"Some European assassin, I think?" Sam says. "I was supposed to keep an eye out for him? It's been bothering me ever since, cause I can't quite remember the damn name."

[justcallmefee]

"Oh right. Jan something. He's Czech."

She takes another sip of her drink and studies his face.

"Why?"

[bythatmuch]

Max has spent the past ten minutes mentally debating whether or not he should go over and say something to her. He planned out an entire speech in his head not long after their breakup, but now that she's actually right there, he's finding it rather difficult to find any words at all.

Luckily, by the time he approaches and notices her less-than-kempt state, he finds some words.

They are: "What happened to you?"

Reaaaaaal smooth.

"... I mean. Uh. Hi."

[justcallmefee]

Fi closes her eyes and her chin drops to her chest. "Max. Hi." Any fire she might have had left in her just dies.

Could this day get any brighter?

[bythatmuch]

"... hi."

Cue the awkward silence!

[justcallmefee]

Eventually she looks up and there's a lump in her throat as she looks into his face.

She looks back down at her hands and pushes the melted cellphone at him across the bar.

"House fire."