World of Darkness: Glimpses of Darkness - Angels of a Nature

[z-Ian]

Ian decided he hated the numbers 2, 5 and 8. Or at least, he hated them today. Today, they were strung together in the order of 285, as in Highway 285. And he was very, very familiar with it, and getting more so by the minute.

It had started out so well. He’d decided that since he was going to be out of town anyway, he should go out to Roswell, cash in on some of the fame he’d acquired with the alien hunters out there. He could crash with them, at least for a little bit.

He’d turned off I-40, heading southeast on 258. For a while, things had been fine; he’d been cruising along at sixty, trying not to get completely bored by the monotonous desert landscape. He hated the desert; it was why he rarely left the confines of Las Vegas. Why did people even bother to live out here? It was barren nothingness.

Then he’d glanced down at his dashboard and started to curse. His check engine light had gone off, something that hadn’t happened since he’d gotten the car six years ago. “Fuck me,” he snarled as the smoke started to pour out from under the hood. His cigarette bounced up and down as he muttered dire implications. He pulled over and slammed the gear shift into the parked position.

Ian considered popping the hood, but decided against it. First, whatever they’d done to his car was probably not something easily fixed. Second, he didn’t know shit about cars. He got out of the car and glanced around. He didn’t anything for miles around. “You fuckin’ picked a good place to dump me, fuckers,” he muttered, sure they could hear him through the probe. “Well, fuck you.”

He grabbed his hat from the seat and slapped it on. Staring down the road, he wrapped his coat around his thin frame and started walking. Within seconds, he was pouring sweat, mostly due to the black coat. But he didn’t dare to remove it; they’d find him for sure if he took it off. Head down, trying to keep the sun out of his eyes and his mind off his predicament, he headed toward civilization.

[SalmonMax]

Lillian, 'Lily' to those who knew her and 'you bitch' to those who knew her better, loved the desert highways. They were long and straight and relatively untrafficked. The kind of road where the highway marker could be read in terms of 'miles per hour.' Highway 285 set the bar a bit higher than her rickety old Chevy pickup could reach...but damned if she wouldn't make it try.

She was at 85...which was pretty good if you just filed the '2' off, right?...when she whizzed past some car on the side of the road. She didn't catch the make or model, but the steam rising from under the hood brought a smirk of cruel amusement to her lips.

"Asshat."

It was only seconds later that she saw a tall, thin, black-shrouded figure hiking doggedly along the side of the road looking like he'd just fallen out of one of the Crow movie sequels. He was kind of hunched over with his arms drawn protectively in so she couldn't tell if his hands were in his pockets or sort of crossed in front of him. These were the kind of details she noticed in a snapshot image. Hands in pockets were trouble.

Then he was past her, receding at eighty-five miles per hour. He was probably from that car, and he had a -loooong- walk ahead of him. And then a -looooooooooooooong- walk back while carrying radiator fluid.

Lily chewed the butt of the unlit cigarette in her mouth, then grimaced and put the brakes on. As the truck shimmied and fishtailed, tires squeaking in protest...but not quite squealing, Lily was careful not to push the old bugtrap TOO far...she pulled it over to the shoulder. Couldn't be too careful. People drove like insane asylum escapees out here.

After a second she leaned her head out the open driver's side window and looked back at him through her sunglasses, cig still dangling unlit from her lips. Her smile was still more than a little smirky, and she didn't say anything right away...just watched him to see what he'd do.

[z-Ian]

Ian was aware of the vehicle that came to a stop ahead of him, but the fact that he was dying of heat exhaustion was a bit more important to him at the moment. The hot, black coat was holding in every shred of heat, but he didn't dare remove it. If he did, he'd be exposed to them.

On he trudged, until he got to the truck. He took a second to consider his guardian angel, but much of his normal sentiments - mostly sexist - were buried under misery. He wasn't too far gone to notice that she was nicely put together, though. "Hi," he said, smiling and wishing he wasn't sweating like a pregnant, unwed teen at the church revival. "Don't suppose you're looking for a bit of company, are ya? If you say yes quickly, you'll even have live company." He didn't want to sound pitiful, but the truck would offer some protection from them, enough that he could open up the coat some.

[SalmonMax]

Damn, this kid was green, was the first thing Lily thought. What did he think she stopped for, to get a photograph and drive away? But that was reassuring in its own way too. She had a notion that even if he was packing a knife or gun in that coat, he'd probably drop a load in his pants before he got the guts up to use it. That wasn't because he was weak or soft...it was just how people reacted the first time they knew, really KNEW, that they held life and death in their hands. He didn't put out that 'I'm dangerous' vibe. At all.

"Figure at this point, it's murder if I don't," Lily said to the guy in her slightly rough-edged, throaty voice. She motioned with her head into the cab. "Go on and hop in."

She watched him go around to the passenger side and get in. "There's a bottle of water in the glovebox," she offered. "Half-full and warm, but you don't exactly look like you're in a spot to complain." Lily chuckled and offered a hand to shake as she glanced at her mirror and started back out onto the road.

"Name's Lily."

[z-Ian]

Ian tore open the water bottle and drank deeply, draining the bottle. With his other hand, he flipped his coat open, sighing with relief as cooler air began to saturate his sweat-soaked clothing. Sadly, he was wearing one of his favorite shirts, an official X-Files imprint with the statement I BELIEVE emblazoned across it. “Thanks, Lily,” he said, pleasure suffusing his voice already. “I’m Ian.”

Lily started the truck moving again, quickly reaching her top safe speed. As they rattled along, the interior became cooler, enough so that Ian could take another look at his rescuing angel. This time, he saw the lovely face and smoking body. That squaw would make the Lone Ranger sit up and beg for buttermilk. She would totally be worth having to scalp a few men. He wasn’t sure he wanted his babies to be part-featherhead, but he’d certainly consider it in this situation.

Realizing that he should probably say more, he said, “It was real lucky that you were out driving. You’re the first car I’ve seen in a while. I thought I was going to have a really long walk ahead of me.”

[SalmonMax]

Lily just nods at that, confirming his belief and letting his observation about his luck slide past. She wasn't 'out for a drive,' of course...no one out here was just sightseeing...but she wasn't inclined to get into that. She was vaguely curious about something though. Most of her observations about 'Ian' were so transparent as to be trite, but there was something she couldn't quite puzzle.

"What's with the coat?" she asked.

[z-Ian]

Ian hesitated. How to answer this question was always an issue for him. Should he be honest and risk this smokin' hot squaw's rejection? Or should he try to hedge a bit and sound more mainstream?

He settled on the latter because he didn't know her, or how well she'd take this stuff. "It's a good luck charm," he said, which wasn't completely true but close enough. "I've had some close calls while wearing it, and it's gotten to the point where I don't go out without it on." All mostly true, but she couldn't handle the truth. And if he found out that she actually could, he'd tell her then. Hell, he'd show her.

Ian glanced at the unlit cigarette hanging from her lips. "Mind if I smoke?" he asked. "Or is there another reason you're not lit up?"

[SalmonMax]

Lily gave Ian a sidelong look and smiled around the referenced cigarette in her mouth. One ride with Lily. Cost: She gets to fuck with you all the way there.

"I'm orally fixated," she said matter-of-factly. "Having a long, cylindrical object in my mouth helps keep me focused."

She lifted an inquisitive eyebrow at Ian, perhaps wondering if he too derived atavistic comforts from wrapping his lips around something like that...perhaps not.

"Go ahead and light up. I'm good. Just roll down the window."

Lily cracked her own window open an inch as well.

"So where're you headed?"

Not sure I'm buying the coat thing either. Either he's REALLY superstitious, he's some kind of teen super-agent who lives a life of danger, or lying his pants off. Wonder why.

[z-Ian]

Ian nearly swallowed his cigarette as he choked back his desire to offer her another long cylinder for her to put in her mouth. However, his desire to not walk all the way to Roswell was far greater than his desire for oral sex. He covered by rolling down his window and lighting up. The hot air felt almost cool given the speeds at which they were moving, and Ian sighed with relief as air managed to eek under his coat.

He blew smoke out the windows, then said, "I'm headed to Roswell." He wondered if she had not seen the shirt, or just make the connection. "I've got some friends there who are going to put me up for my visit." He glanced at her. "What about you?" he asked as he shot another column of smoke out the side of his mouth. "Where are you going?"

[SalmonMax]

"Well you're in luck," Lily told her passenger. Not that it was a surprise. Along this stretch of road, there wasn't much of interest besides Roswell.

"That's where I'm headed too. But you coming back to get your car may be a bit trickier. I'll be coming back this way, but you may not want to share this old thing with who I'll have with me at that time."

She chuckles.

"Of course, he'll be in the pickup bed, I expect, so maybe it would all work out."

[z-Ian]

"He'll be..." Ian trailed off, trying to decide if Lily was into some kinky shit or something else was going on here. He smoked and idly considered her for a moment. When he spoke, he sounded amused. "So Lily, you like running around with guys in your pickup bed, or am I just lucky enough to get to ride in the front?"

He grinned saucily at her, feeling well enough now to show some more of his true nature.

[SalmonMax]

"I guess that does need a little explanation."

She plucked the cigarette from her mouth and stuck it in the breast pocket of her vest. One nice thing about not lighting up...it really stretched the pack's value.

"I'm a bail enforcement agent. Basically, a bounty hunter. People go on the run after getting their bail paid by a bond company...the company puts a price on their head and whoever brings them back gets it, provided they're in condition to go to court."

Lily grinned and glanced at Ian. "Frontier justice at its finest."

[z-Ian]

"Cool, though I know what a bail enforcement agent is," Ian said idly. "Once saw a guy getting jumped by one. Kinda sticks in the memory." He took a another drag, finishing off the cigarette. He started to flick it out the open window and stopped. He'd placed Lily in the cop box because of her profession, but she wasn't really. She could be a tree-hugging Vegan-slurping hippie, though. Sometimes, injuns could be like that.

He used some of the condensation on the bottle to put out the cherry. Waiting for it to cool enough to put in the bottle, he said, "So how does..." All sorts of inappropriate words rattled through his brain and he choked them back. "One get into bounty hunting?"

[SalmonMax]

"By screwing up on everything else, usually," Lily replied easily. She glanced at Ian's antics with his cigarette but didn't comment on any of it. "Sometimes people get into it because that's what they're trying for. The funny thing is that those are usually the ones that quit the fastest. People want to be bounty hunters the same way people want to be pirates, or badass outlaws. They see one movie too many, think 'damn that looks cool' and go buy a tricked up van and a rack full of guns."

She chuckled. "Then they see what its really like and either piss themselves or get pissed off and go back home to get a degree in finance or computer tech."

"Not too many people hunt if they can do something else. I guess maybe some get a taste for it, but most folks I know more or less fell into it after flunking out of police school or the military, and now it's what they do because it's all they know how to do."

Despite seeming to include herself in that category, Lily didn't seem bitter. She shrugged and went on. "But it's got its moments. One you learn to pick your jobs and get a decent team. There's definite moments."

Then, just when Ian was feeling like she expected him to respond, she looked over at him speculatively. "What about you? UFOlogist?"

[z-Ian]

"Yeah, that's the accepted term for it," Ian said, curling his lip. "I prefer 'xenologist' myself. It's more accurate, at least." At the look on Lily's face, he said, "You know, 'xeno' as in 'other' and 'ology' as in the 'study of'. It's a little like bounty hunting in that no one chooses to do it, you start because you get dragged into it."

He dropped the cigarette butt into the bottle and said dryly, "The hours suck, the pay's lousy and the benefits are nil. About the only good thing you can get from it are the UFO groupies who think anything attached to it is hot. Sadly, most of them are seriously scary - you know, bag-is-not-optional kind of scary. So yeah, I think I'd rather be a bounty hunter."

[SalmonMax]

Ian's revelation earned him a genuinely startled look from Lily, followed by a bout of laughter from his pretty, and pretty weird, driver. Her chuckles petered out as she waved a hand in front of her mouth and shook her head.

"Sorry...that's just funny you said that. The first part of that is like...verbatim what I told a guy in a bar on the way up here. He was asking about how cool bounty hunting was, and I was all, 'The hours suck, the pay sucks, and if you want benefits you're buying.' I mean, practically exactly what you said."

She threw Ian a lopsided grin that was almost a smirk.

"Funny how things go."

[z-Ian]

"Yeah, I don't suppose you had to tell him about bag-not-optional groupies?" At her look, Ian grinned. "Hey, it's like the one benefit I get, ok? You get the cool factor, even if it is in the imaginations of others."

He locked the door and leaned back against it, turning his full attention on Lily. "So you bounty hunt, what do you do in your free time?"

It was kind of a lazy come on line, but he felt the need to test the waters before sticking more than a toe in. You never knew what a shark - or a woman - would take from you if they could.

[SalmonMax]

Lily fought back the smartass answer that really wanted to bubble out. It was a fair question, after all.

"Depends on whether or not I got paid," she replied. "When I've just collected, I'll go party. Clubbing, drinking, I go a little crazy. After that, I either pick up a new job, or take it easy for awhile. Catch a little TV...clean house...Scrabble...you know."

"What about you?"

[z-Ian]

Ian was quiet for a moment. "Well, if I'm not working, I'm trying to make money so I can eat." He saw her look and said, "My job is my website; I do computer odd jobs to make ends meet. I guess you could say I get to do what I love," he added with a grin.

He studied her another moment, then asked, "Are you from around here? I know you're going to Roswell - is that were you call home? Or are you drifting through the Southeast like Desperado?"

[SalmonMax]

"Sort of," Lily answered with a chuckle. "I'm from Flagstaff. But one fun thing about this job is the extensive travel opportunities, so there's definitely a 'drifter' element to me too."

She glanced over at Ian curiously. "What's the website?"

[z-Ian]

"AlienHunter.org," Ian said, running a fingernail over a patch of stubble he'd missed that morning. Sighing, he looked at her and said, "Yes, it's an information resource for the serious xenologist. I collect all the information I can find and post it there. I have it set up so that people can leave comments, dispute it, whatever. I even have room for the debunkers." He made that last sound like a big deal.

[SalmonMax]

Lily smiled, "And by 'room,' I bet you mean a little room all to themselves in some corner no one else ever goes to. Nah, it's cool, Ian. There's a lot of shit in the world you can only ever see out the corners of your eyes. We all need ways to deal with that. Angels...ghosts...aliens... My uncle, God love him, still goes on about spirits like the crazy old Indian he is."

She shrugged. "I'm not into judging, is my point. It's cool you have a website. There's where things are going, you know? Like a whole other world, all around us, but we can't see it."

[z-Ian]

"No, no... I like critics," Ian said with a smile. "It's way too satisfying to prove them wrong." He looked at her closely out of the corner of his eye, assessing her.

"Do you believe? I guess in the general sense. I know you're not into UFOs, just from our talk. But do you dig them like your uncle?" He pulled out another cigarette but didn't light up; instead he rolled it over his fingers. His expression was interested as he waited for his answer.

[SalmonMax]

Lily shrugged noncommittally. "Do I believe...?"

She glanced out the dirty, smudged side window for a second at the desertscape outside.

"Times like this, not really. Driving down a road in broad daylight...any world where weird shit like that happens in seems a million miles away. Everything's solid and where it's meant to be."

Now she turns her sunglasses to give Ian a momentary stare.

"But ask me that again sitting out on an old log, under the moon by a fire, with not another living soul around for miles and the stars as thick as fireflies around my head..." She nods. "I'll believe then. UFO's, spirits, ghosts, conspiracies...whatever you got."

Lily put her eyes back on the road where they, arguably, belonged. "So I guess that adds up to, 'I don't know.' I've seen weird shit, but nothing that ever quite convinced me. At least not during the day."

"So what made a believer out of you?"

[z-Ian]

Ian was quiet for a long time. Lily wasn't sure he was going to answer; then he said, "I was taken. Snatched me right out of bed one night, experimented on me and left a probe in my head." His voice sounded distant, as if he were telling her the plot of a movie, but Lily had seen this often enough. It was forced emotional distance to disengage from a trauma. It implied that something had happened to him, though probably not aliens. Abuse could trigger that kind of response, and seemed more likely to the bounty hunter.

Ian continued to say, "That's why I do what I do. I don't want another little kid to have to go through what I did." The sincerity of his mission was unquestionable; the focus seemed to be off, however.

[SalmonMax]

Lily was quiet for a bit after that, just letting the engine and the road fill the silence. She was familiar with self-therapy. Everyone had their demons, and the lucky ones found ways to appease them that didn't involve a descending spiral towards self-annihilation. Running a kooky website seemed to be a pretty benign way to deal, compared to some of the alternatives she had seen in action.

She'd had troubles of her own as a young'un...but she didn't want to go there at the moment. He was cute, but not that cute, and she wasn't drunk enough.

"Hey...you happen to play an instrument?" she asked abruptly, appropos of nothing.

[z-Ian]

"Only the pink harmonica," he said automatically, then flushed. He hadn't meant to be so crude aloud; it didn't usually end well if he pissed off a woman helping him. "Uh... can we try that again?"

"No," Lily said with a hint of a smile. "No do-overs."

"Right." Ian fought to stop his blush and mostly succeeded. "I don't play any kind of instrument." He studied her for a moment, a smile curling his lips slightly. "Why do you ask? Looking for a drummer for your band?"

[SalmonMax]

"I do the drums," Lily corrected good-naturedly. "I seem to excel when it comes to hitting things with blunt objects. It's a gift."

The desert, the road, and low-intensity flirting with a harmless stranger. This trip had turned out to be not as dull as she'd anticipated. She toyed with the idea of inviting him for drinks at some UFO-themed bar Roswell was undoubtedly teeming with, but hesitated. Did she want to wake up next to this guy? She was pretty sure that if she was drunk and in a partying mood, that's what would happen. And it wasn't that he was unpleasant or bad looking even...maybe a bit geeky, but even that was kind of cute...it was more that she figured he'd be smug about it. Bagged ya, babe.

Funny how it was the little things that stuck with you. Hilarious, even.

Fuck that, she told herself. I'm a grown woman, I can make up my mind, drunk or not, and I'm not letting some douchebag in my past fuck up my future.

"We're getting close," she commented as a green mileage sign whooshed past. "Where am I dropping you off?"

[z-Ian]

"A friend's," Ian said, rattling off an address. He looked at her sideways and considering offering to go elsewhere with her, if she wanted. But chicks like this didn't cozy up to guys like him, so Ian let it go. He relaxed into the seat of the truck and thought about what was waiting. The hassle of getting the car towed in and fixed. Figuring out where that money was coming from. Hanging out in a dark back room somewhere with a bunch of nervous, paranoid UFOologists, all jumping at each other's movements.

"Unless you'd like to let me get you dinner," he added quickly. He may not have a shot in hell of getting into her pants - he didn't have a middle name in quotes or a cool factor like a Harley - but that didn't mean she couldn't be a pleasant distraction for him for a few hours. "For the ride. As a thank you."

Shut up. Don't oversell it.

[SalmonMax]

Lily gave Ian a glance, then shrugged. Despite her earlier hesitations, one thing she cleaved to pretty tightly in life; never turn down a free meal. You never knew when another one was coming.

"Well, I won't say no to that. I was planning on making my move later on anyway, so I've got some time to kill."

"Know anyplace good? I'm not too picky when it comes to food, so whatever's fine."

[z-Ian]

Ian gave her a sharp glance, wondering what "move" she was planning on making. Surely, it wouldn't be toward him, but just in case, he changed his mind about the restaurant. More of Krystal's money would go toward this, more than he'd intended, but after the fuckin' thing she'd done, she deserved it.

"Well, what genre do you like? Warning, if you say anything besides 'American', 'Southwestern' and 'Buffet Chinese', the pickings will be sparse," he told her.

Lily smirked at him. "Mexican is fine."

Ian nodded and considered a moment, then said, "Turn left up here, I know a place." He directed her through Roswell to a small abode building. They parked and entered, and the cool interior was heaven to Ian. The hostess met them, and at Ian's request, directed them to a booth in the back, well away from the large windows. Gratefully, Ian peeled off the sweaty jacket, draping it on the bench. Lily saw a flash of something on the lining, but Ian was already pulling his faded "Can't sleep, clowns will eat me..." shirt away from his chest and dropping into the bench. "So much better," he sighed as he pulled a menu to him. "The best thing about living in the southwest is working AC."

[SalmonMax]

Lily shook her head with a smile and sat in the booth with her back to the wall and her legs stretched out along the long bench, knees bent just enough to let her heels perch on the edge.

"You know, the local climate's a bit easier to take when you don't bundle up like it's a Minnesota winter," she pointed out in a kindly tone.

She glanced at her menu but didn't pick it up. She pretty much knew what kind of food a Mexican place would have, and since Ian was paying she didn't need to know the prices.

Instead she watched Ian check the menu out. He was surprisingly sane for a paranoiac. He didn't bring his own napkins or water, for one, and he didn't radiate that frantic 'hunted animal' vibe that was so disconcerting. Lily had met one or two real doozies in the course of business, and thought she had a decent scent for what mentally unbalanced paranoid was. Ian wasn't it. He was...quirky, with his security coat and his UFO website. A normal guy who'd caught a glimpse of how truly effed up the world was, and was dealing with it as best he could. And really, wasn't that just about everyone?

"What're you getting?" she asked.

[z-Ian]

"Not sure," Ian said. This was his first night in town so it was okay to relax a little. They'd never found him on his first night in a new location. Besides, he didn't want to freak Lily out anymore. "Was thinking the chicken-type burritos, heavy on the chicken."

Ian lowered the menu and watched her for a moment, noting again how cute she was. She wasn't as hot as Krystal, but she was certainly acceptable. She also didn't have any wiggy drawing powers which scared the shit out of him. He wondered again what that 'move' she'd mentioned was.

"What about you?" he asked, dropping his voice a touch in an attempt to establish verbal intimacy. "What looks good to you?" Come on, say it. Say, "A slab of hot Ian-meat."

[SalmonMax]

Lily's dark eyes met Ian's across the table and her wry smirk made it feel uncomfortably like she knew exactly what he was thinking. Or maybe she was merely aware of the entendre-value of her reply when she said, "I'll go with a beef burrito."

The decision made, she leaned back in her chair and consulted her watch. The time put a little scowl on her face. Hours to go before she slept. Was that how it went. Miles. Whatever.

What she really needed was a place to crash for about six hours or so, or she'd be totally exhausted by the time she went for her mark. And that was just asking for trouble. There were motels of course, but they were kind of expensive.

She eyed Ian again. Hmm.

"Where are you staying tonight again?" Lily asked lightly. "Friend's place or something?"

[z-Ian]

"Beef burrito," Ian drawled, pulling the words out to made the suggested entendre a full-on double entendre. "Good choice."

I have a beef burrito for you, complete with not-so-sour cream.

Her next statement really drew him up short and killed his lusty mood. Why the sudden interest in his sleeping arrangements, especially after that considering glance? "Fuckin' bitches always want something from you, boy." His uncle's favorite saying was suddenly in the forefront of his mind and Ian heeded the old man's advice. Ian had a sky-high opinion of himself, but he knew that the female race didn't see him that way. So he was sure she wasn't about to offer to sample his burrito.

"Yeah," he said casually, "I have a place lined up with a fellow xenologist." He took a sip of his water and asked bluntly, "Why?"

[SalmonMax]

Lily lifted her eyebrows slightly, a little taken aback by his reaction. He was playing it cool, but it didn't take a social genius to feel the sudden chill from across the table.

"Just figured I'd ask if I could stay there for a few hours," she replied. "I've got some time to kill in town, and..." She shrugged. "Eh, it's no big deal anyway. I can get a motel room. Besides if this is your friends place, you probably can't go making promises. Sorry, I guess that was kind of a stupid question."

Despite her apologetic tone, she didn't look terribly embarrassed...or maybe her skin tone just made it harder to tell when she was blushing.

[z-Ian]

Ian hid his smirk. He'd called her on it, and like a woman, she'd caved at the first bit of resistance. Feeling better, he shrugged. "I can call and see if he wouldn't mind a hot bounty hunter crashing on his couch for a bit." He grinned at her. "As you might imagine, xenologists aren't exactly rolling in the feminine company, so I'm sure he won't mind. Let me go out and make the call. I need a smoke anyway."

Standing, he pulled on his jacket - getting some weird looks from people in the room - before he added, "If the waitress comes around, tell her I want the beef nachos with extra salsa, 'K?" Digging a phone out in one hand and a cigarette with the other, he headed for the door.

[SalmonMax]

Lily just nodded as Ian walked out, then frowned slightly. Either his social reactions were off, or it had been WAY too long since she associated with people who were normal. Or close to normal. Or...not criminal or borderline criminal.

The waitress strolled up and filled her water, and Lily went ahead and ordered. Beef burrito, mild salsa. Beef nachos with extra salsa. Of course, Ian hadn't said what KIND of salsa, so she had the waitress get the hot stuff for him. That'd teach him to be fey. Unless he liked it, in which case go her.

She was already starting to regret asking if she could sleep over though. Something in his expression had completely nullified her vague attraction to him, born largely of isolation in the first place. For just a second he'd looked at her like she imagined the guy holding the air hammer looked at the next cow stumbling up in the line at the slaughterhouse. Metaphorically. He wasn't dangerous. Not physically at least.

With a sigh Lily picked up her water and swirled it around, then took a swallow. She spent most of her time chasing child-payment scamming, wife beating, cheating, boozing inbred imbecile incontinent men who didn't even have the balls to face the music for what they'd done, and dragging them out of the squalid holes they tried to hide in...screaming and mewling like piglets more often than not. When she thought of it that way, she was just fine never getting laid again.

She glanced at the front window, trying to see if he was still out there, or if he'd run off, leaving her with the tab.

[z-Ian]

Ian was clearly on the phone, talking to someone. It looked like he was going through some kind of long explanation about something that agitated him. In truth, he was, but Lily probably wouldn't have guessed the topic: he was ranting about the latest theory regarding the involvement of the Men in Black in 9/11. He wasn't really into it though; Rodney required someone to go back and forth with him about whatever was burning in his brain. And when that was done, Ian said, "Hey, man, got a question for you."

"Yeah?"

"My car broke down out of down, and this hot chick gave me a ride."

"Awesome for you. That's not a question."

Ian rolled his eyes and bit back an angry retort. "I'm giving you some background on the question."

"Background-smah-ground," Rodney grumbled. "Just ask it, man."

"Can she crash at your place with me?"

"With you, or with you?"

"Whichever she wants," Ian smirked, knowing it was likely to be the former. "Can she?"

"Sure whatever. She'd better be hot, though."

Ian glanced into the restaurant again and said, "You will not be disappointed. See ya soon." He tossed his butt and headed back in slipping into the booth before shedding his coat. "You have a place to stay free tonight, if you want it."

[SalmonMax]

Lily nodded. "It won't be for the whole night. I just need to crash for a few hours until midnight or so. Then I go collect, and I'm on the highway outta here before sunrise."

She took a drink of her water, and ate one of the complimentary nacho chips that a waiter...not the same one that took the order...had brought over in a wicker basket with a sheet of wax paper in it.

"Anyway, food's on it's way. Thanks for that, Ian. When you pay all your expenses out of pocket, every little bit helps."