(Untitled)

[licensed_pro]

Charles Monroe is not usually interrupted in the middle of his evening by the bar appearing in the men's restroom at the Metropolitan Opera. He's less irritated than amused at it happening, though, and so he continues in, reaching up to his throat to pull the collar of his shirt undone, tie--formal, black bow--swiftly pulled open. They're not

Comments

[hey35nholding]

Clementine Johnson has an eye for men. Everybody knows that. Her heart is impulsively and already totally spoken for. And yet a pretty face turns her head.

She approaches with beer in hand, settling down in the chair opposite Charlie's. "Nice suit."

[licensed_pro]

He smiles up at her as his head turns, elegant and polished.

"Well thank you. I was engaged for the evening, prior to being interrupted by this place," he says, looking up and around; Charles' gaze lands on her uniform.

"Or should I say thank you, deputy? I'd hate to get into a tangle on the wrong side of the law."

[hey35nholding]

She smiles - rare that someone actually knows her rank just by looking at her uniform. "Where were you before bar kidnapped you?"

[licensed_pro]

"The Metropolitan Opera," he answers, "New York City. And you, Miss...?" Charles leave the address open if she wants to give him her name; otherwise, it stands.

[scots_wolf]

When Urquhart sees him, he comes straight over. "Have you got a moment?" he asks, plainly, one professional to another.

[licensed_pro]

"For the time being it appears I have quite a few," he says equally plainly. "What can I do for you?"

[scots_wolf]

"I've got a somewhat strange proposition," Urquhart says, "but I'd pay well."

[licensed_pro]

Charles raises a brow. "Define strange, before I agree or decline," he says.