Between her dislocated descriptions and his knowledge of the city, they find their way to her doorstep. She smiles sheepishly, cheeks red against the night’s cold and his constant attention. She thanks him, or at least she dreams she does, and he says something gallant and nonchalant. Her palm’s on the doorknob when he presses a hand lightly on her shoulder.

“When can I see you again?”

“Oh, you don’t have to check on me. I have someone helping me out, and...”

“That isn’t why I’d like to see you again.”

“Oh.” The thought trickles through her brain while the tips of her ears and her cheeks, far quicker on the upswing than her thoughts, light up like a holiday lamp. “Me? You want to see me?”

“You are the person I’m asking, so that would be the logical inference.” He smiles with one half of his mouth and she melts. “Unless this is a clever way of declining that I’ve unfortunately misunderstood?”

“No! Um. I mean, no. I would like to. A- any time.” Taya smiles a nervous but inviting smile and brushes a hair back behind her ear. Fingers pass her cheek, ice against a furnace.

“Anytime including Wednesday? It’s my afternoon off, I thought we could go for tea.”

“Wednesday would be included in ‘anytime’ by definition. W- wouldn’t it?” Her joke stumbles like a colt’s first walk, but he seems to understand enough to laugh without prompting. She nearly glows. “Tea sounds fun.”

“Wednesday, then. There’s a café called the Greenhouse on seventeenth if you would like to meet there. Well known for its garish red awnings, very difficult to avoid noticing.”

“I bet I could, um, find it?”

“Excellent. I’ll see you then.”

Taya opens her mouth to say something affirmative but then he’s leaning close and she can smell the cologne on his neck and his lips touch her cheek and her thoughts derail sharply into ‘he kissed me? He kissed me? He. Kissed. Me?’

“Have a good evening.”

She probably says something along the lines of ‘you too’ or ‘thanks again’ or maybe even ‘okay’, but the words slip out without interference from her brain. She waves as he walks away and continues to wave when his back passes far beyond her sight. The phantom lips against her cheek block any chance of coherent thought.

He...!

“...shows up an goes all ‘let the girl go, or else’ on me like we’re in some goddamned chilvalric... thing.” Green hair flops into her vision and she brushes it aside so vigorously it swishes back to its original position. She leans back on the bar and raises her glass to the sky. It twinkles rich russet in the dimmed lamplight and casts a prism shadow on her face.

Flick of the wrist and it’s empty. She can feel it down to her toes, warm and fuzzy feelings in a shot. Ah. Good stuff. Pricey, but worth every penny. It’s been a miserable day and she’s building a towering tab, but it’s worth it.

“What did you DO?”

“Ha?” Blurry eyes blink the girl into focus. Sweet smiles, bright cheeks, wide eyes, round face, and rounder other places all hanging off every word. Rounder other places wrapped in a tight low shirt. . . The thief pulls her gaze up with effort. Right. “What d’you think I did?”

“You showed him one for?”

“Damn straight I did. I look at him,” she gestures to the fictional albino freak with one hand and wraps the other around her audience’s shoulders, “an I say he’d better think real hard ‘bout starting something with me. Because gloves off I’ll kick his pansy chivalric ass.”

“And then?”

“An' then he goes all disbelieving because he’s a guy, right? Totally too distracted by the hotness of two women wrassling to think about his life. So I’m all like bring it, and then I-”

“What about the girl you were robbing? Did she get,” a bubbly gasp, “hurt?”

“Hell no. I set her down first, on account of not wanting her to get caught in the middle. See, I rob people but I’m not down with hurtin’ pretty young ladies.” A winning grin, despite the liquor, and a wink. “Anyway, so I gave up on her money ‘cause it was pretty clear she was broke, an then Pasty and I - did I mention he was an albino? ‘Cause he was - go at it.”

“Ooh. What happened?”

“Well he’s dumb as a brick, ‘cause you know, guy. An he’s all tough and rushin’ me and stuff, but then I catch him unawares like so.“ She pantomimes without remembering her hand on the audience and they both slip forward on the barstools through momentum. Her audience giggles and she laughs, the two of them draped on one another to keep from falling onto the floor.

“Anyway, I won. Valiantly.”

“Wow,” whispers her audience. “Your life is so exciting!”

“Iiya, it’s just normal. But if you want exciting...”

They’re holding close, quickly becoming an island in the crowded smoky bar. Close enough to see freckles on her gently pale face and close enough to notice the embroidery on the edge of that dangerously low shirt. Close enough to smell the rich perfume in her hair and to know she’ll be sleepin’ in a soft bed tonight.

About time her day took a turn for the better.