ellectrical (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ellectrical) wrote2010-03-20 11:08 pm
ellectrical) wrote2010-03-20 11:08 pm
Entry tags:
June 2007, Three Weeks
After three weeks, everything had finally come into place. It had rained until late into the previous night, but the sky was clear by morning, and Elle had packed her bag (a large black purse) with what she'd borrowed from X, her map, her gun, even another plastic bag of Girl Scout cookies, before locking the door to her room and heading out to the street.
She gets an early start, making her way to the alley a couple hours before she thinks he'll show up. After double-checking that the employees of the club have really cleared out, Elle checks her surroundings, then moves to the double doors, and sets her purse down on the wet pavement.
About ten minutes later, with the aid of a torsion wrench and bump key, the padlock on the door has slid open. She leaves it hanging on the chain, puts her tools back into her purse, and moves away.
There's a space on the other side of the alley - it gives her cover in the form of the hair salon's dumpster and is kept dry by a short, striped awning that juts out from the wall, over the dumpster and the door on the other side. Elle positions herself, and waits.
Patience is not one of her virtues.
But sometimes, when she wants something bad enough, it doesn't really matter.
She gets an early start, making her way to the alley a couple hours before she thinks he'll show up. After double-checking that the employees of the club have really cleared out, Elle checks her surroundings, then moves to the double doors, and sets her purse down on the wet pavement.
About ten minutes later, with the aid of a torsion wrench and bump key, the padlock on the door has slid open. She leaves it hanging on the chain, puts her tools back into her purse, and moves away.
There's a space on the other side of the alley - it gives her cover in the form of the hair salon's dumpster and is kept dry by a short, striped awning that juts out from the wall, over the dumpster and the door on the other side. Elle positions herself, and waits.
Patience is not one of her virtues.
But sometimes, when she wants something bad enough, it doesn't really matter.
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But she checks her watch again, and says, "I don't want to be here that much longer."
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Jamie kicks back his chair. "If it's such a rush, let's go, then."
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"Do you know where to go?"
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There's an emphasis on the last word, so Jamie might remember what to call them if the next world's anything like hers.
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He picks up his grocery bag, looks at it, and sighs. On the one hand, he's sick of toting it around. On the other, it goes against the grain to throw away food - especially when he doesn't know where he'll end up - so he might as well haul it on with him.
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She doesn't even sound impatient. But she does stop short as she's about to step away from the table.
"That stuff I told you."
Maybe she'll think of a polite way to say it.
"- don't talk about it."
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"What do you take me for?"
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And for the first time, she lets Jamie lead the way.