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[justasaleswoman]

Ever heard that line about "hell on wheels in a black dress"?

Well, it just walked into the bar.

Comments

[theunsmiling]

Michael, wearing a T-shirt that reads Empty Promises. Calculated betrayal. Sociopathic greed. Just another Wednesday., looks up from her coffee.

After taking a sip she pauses before setting it back down, watching Verity over the rim.

There are no donuts in her vicinity.

"Hast thy work left thee so unsatisfied?"

How astonishing.

[justasaleswoman]

Verity arches one carefully sculted eyebrow.

(Starlets are such fun to possess.)

"If you're waiting for me to ask you what satisfaction you can have tonight, we could be here for a while, darling."

[theunsmiling]

"Coffee will serve me well enough," Michael says, lifting her cup again.

"Demon."

[justasaleswoman]

"Suit yourself. Angel.

"How've you been, Michael?"

[theunsmiling]

Michael flicks her fingers dismissively.

"Passing busy, as ever."

She takes another sip of coffee.

"And thou, demon? Hast thy temptation borne fruit, of late?"

[justasaleswoman]

"It's a harvest time of year, darling.

"Not that temptation ever really goes out of season."

[theunsmiling]

Michael merely snorts.

"Then thy metaphor is faulty."

[justasaleswoman]

"Muddled, a bit, perhaps.

"Maybe I need coffee.

"I assume you have all you need . . ." she adds, letting the inflection rise just enough to make it a question.

[theunsmiling]

Michael raises one eyebrow.

"The Bar, as they say, is always open."

[wordofa_sayre]

The young man who's just come through the front door looks suddenly and absolutely delighted.

"Think I'm getting the hang of this!"

[justasaleswoman]

"Do you now?"

Verity looks over.

There is something about you, young man . . .

You're worth a second look.

And not many people are.

[wordofa_sayre]

"I do," he exults, and beams a smile at her. "I knew I would if I kept at it long enough, it's all in the approach--"

[justasaleswoman]

"As many things are."

Take it from someone who has made a lot of approaches.

[wordofa_sayre]

"Exactly."

If possible, Nick's smile brightens.

"You seem like a sensible lady."

And a pretty one, too. Nick offers a small bow and adds,

"Nick Sayre, at your service."

[justasaleswoman]

Just 'pretty'?

"How charming.

"I'm Verity.

"What sort of service are you offering, Nick, darling?"

[wordofa_sayre]

"What kind of service might you need?" he returns, gallantly. "I'm a scientist by nature, but never let it be said I turned away from a challenge."

[justasaleswoman]

Well, you're just adorable, Nick.

Verity could eat you up.

Um.

"Let's start with something easy . . .

"I could use a drink."

[cannotforget.livejournal.com]

And by the bar, there's a familiar blonde, a little more than halfway through her drink, dark leather jacket draped over the back of her seat.

She appears to be pretty relaxed.

She even gives Verity a little wave.

[justasaleswoman]

"You look pretty relaxed for someone who's got half of Hell looking for her, darling."

[cannotforget.livejournal.com]

Ruby's smile grows sweeter.

Pokerfaces are wonderful things, especially when said face isn't even really yours to begin with. It's more effective that way.



"And you're brunette again."

[justasaleswoman]

"You are an observant little thing, aren't you?

"How is life on the run, Ruby?"

[cannotforget.livejournal.com]

"Peachy," Ruby answers. "As always."

She takes another easy sip of her drink.

"Granted, it's getting a little tiring to move around with all you other bitches patrolling the surface."

[justasaleswoman]

"Don't whine to me, darling.

"A, I don't care, and B, I used to have the place practically to myself.

"Then you all came crawling out.

"At least until they catch you. And drag you back down where you came from.

"I don't envy you."

[cannotforget.livejournal.com]

"Aw, you always know just what to say, don't you?"

Verity's a regular bucket of sunshine, she is.



"Have a drink. On me."

[justasaleswoman]

"What, like a margarita with extra salt?" Verity asks, amused. "I'll pass."

There's slumming and then there's . . . slumming.

"You do have a plan, right?

"Or at least what you think is a plan?"