(no subject)

[sunnydalealum]

February 18, 2007

The nice thing about being able to pass for fully human in this city? You can live anywhere.

Well, anywhere you can afford. But Fitz's day job pays the rent on a nice little one-bedroom in a decent part of town, and his other work is lucrative enough to keep it furnished and stocked (and secured) like someplace much nicer.

He's whistling something under his breath as he steps off the elevator and turns down the hallway.

Comments

[nomorekaraoke]

"No, no, don't be silly," she chuckles merrily, her Irish brogue breaking through her crackling old voice. It's the only characteristic the public at large seems to agree on - maybe no one knows who she is, or where she comes from, but her accent is Irish on occasion.

"They'll make you feel better. Would you like some tea? It's very good."

[sunnydalealum]

It smells good, too. Soothing. Calming. It smells like a promise that everything’s going to be okay now.

Fitz swallows hard. "Listen," he mumbles hopelessly, "I can pay you."

[nomorekaraoke]

"I don't much care for money, and information I get plenty of, just asking for it." She picks out one of the cookies for herself - chocolate chip and cherries are her favorite, and she isn't afraid to show it.

"I'm just here to," delicate nibble. "Clean out your office, I suppose you could call it." She giggles again, a creaky old laughter that just goes to show there isn't a mean bone in her little old body.

[sunnydalealum]

That laughter curls around his heart and smothers the last feeble flicker of resistance. The office is up here, he said to Lorne, tapping his forehead, just minutes ago. Ages ago.

She was here the whole time. He never had a chance.

Fitz lets out a tiny soundless breath of despair; he wants to hide his face, or at least close his eyes, and he can't even do that, can't look away from her face. Except it's not even her face he's seeing anymore, just her eyes, just those two mercilessly bright flecks of rock-crystal blue, trapping his own.

"Do it," he whispers. "Just do it."




At the touch of her withered fingers in his hair, he finds he can close his eyes after all, but it doesn't make any difference.