Hot Child In The City

[justcallmefee]

Fiona comes in through her door, the band of her black cap soaked with sweat, and literally radiating the Florida head.  She's lugging a wooden crate with rope handles that looks like it weighs fifty plus pounds, but she manages, even with a cellphone clamped to her ear with her shoulder.

"Yeah, going into a tunnel.  Gonna lose you."  She shifts

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[still_burned]

Not far behind her (but from a different time, and location in the city) Michael enters the bar. He's in jeans and a light, white sweater - given the clothes and the muted thudthudthud from the door behind him, she can probably guess that he's moved in to his loft and it's evening there currently.

Luckily, he's not as annoyed to be here this time around though the first thing he does when the door shuts is to whirl round and check it's still there. It is, so he figures he might as well get a yoghurt here. Save him a trip to the store.

'I guess you've been working.'

There is a vaguely disapproving note to his voice.

[justcallmefee]

She takes her smoothie from the bar and sips down the foam at the top with a loud slurp.

"Just a little favour for a friend. You know me. I like to do favours. For my friends."

She blinks at him, a predatory grin on her lips.

[still_burned]

'Yeah. Your kind of favour usually isn't what the other person would see as one.'

As in, they suddenly find themselves in her debt whether they want to be or not.

'Who's the lucky guy?'

[justcallmefee]

"Michael," she tuts. "You say that like I keep a little black book with tic marks by each little name."

The book is in her head. And his name? She gave up ticking off his name years ago.

"Just a friend. No one you'd know."

Or want to know.