Bo Jones. Or maybe Dennis. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
nookiepowered) wrote2011-05-08 11:28 am
nookiepowered) wrote2011-05-08 11:28 am
Baltimore, Late Sunday Night
Of course after all the time she'd spent stuck in this town, it was as easy as walking through a door. Or a gate, or a trellis or whatever it was the clerk from the bakery had rushed out of while Bo was standing near the causeway trying to decide how she was going to pick a Viking. Look for one whose kids had more than the usual number of bruises?
"Where the hell did you come from," when he almost knocked her over, and "Baltimore," with a blink like she was the crazy one for asking, and here she was, in an alley behind a bar on Front Street in the middle of the night.
Of course it was as easy as walking through an alley, and this time that wasn't sarcasm; it only took a few passes through the neighborhood before there'd been a knife pricking her side and a rough hand taking its sweet damn time patting her down for a wallet in places where it was kind of unlikely to be.
Good enough, she thought, turning into the touch instead of holding still. It was a gamble with a weapon on her, but she was starving, and if she did get wounded, a feed would fix that up. "If that's what you wanted, honey, all you had to do was ask."
He was a big guy, and thank God, he didn't look tweaked, just shocked at Bo's words, or her smile, or maybe it was her actions, when she put one empty hand on his waist and raised the other to his face. "Sorry," she said, quick enough that he wouldn't have time to react, and more sincere than he probably deserved. She didn't like to kill; she just had to eat.
Then she was on him, and it was a little late for sorry.
[Off-island, NFB, etc. Up SUPER early for massive SP, for one who knows who he is, except he doesn't yet. DAMMIT.]
"Where the hell did you come from," when he almost knocked her over, and "Baltimore," with a blink like she was the crazy one for asking, and here she was, in an alley behind a bar on Front Street in the middle of the night.
Of course it was as easy as walking through an alley, and this time that wasn't sarcasm; it only took a few passes through the neighborhood before there'd been a knife pricking her side and a rough hand taking its sweet damn time patting her down for a wallet in places where it was kind of unlikely to be.
Good enough, she thought, turning into the touch instead of holding still. It was a gamble with a weapon on her, but she was starving, and if she did get wounded, a feed would fix that up. "If that's what you wanted, honey, all you had to do was ask."
He was a big guy, and thank God, he didn't look tweaked, just shocked at Bo's words, or her smile, or maybe it was her actions, when she put one empty hand on his waist and raised the other to his face. "Sorry," she said, quick enough that he wouldn't have time to react, and more sincere than he probably deserved. She didn't like to kill; she just had to eat.
Then she was on him, and it was a little late for sorry.
[Off-island, NFB, etc. Up SUPER early for massive SP, for one who knows who he is, except he doesn't yet. DAMMIT.]