She returns to find him gone.  Of course.  Which possibly explains Bill's agitation when he left her.  Without the gun.

She leaves the door open, and flips on the stereo, thumbs it over to a hard pounding club mix, and starts tidying.

She is Not Happy.

Fiona doesn't know how to do anything half way, and that's why she's carrying a quart of grapeseed oil in one hand, and a magnum of Cristal cradled in the other. Which leaves her no hands to either open the door or to fend off Ramon's hands. She's laughing though, so clearly she doesn't mind much ( Read more... )

She rummages in the small pantry looking for something that isn't mineral water.  Nothing presents itself.

"Clearly I have not stocked this place in anticipation of visitors."  She looks over her shoulder at him, sprawled on the bed in that boneless sated fashion he perfected no doubt years before she ever met him.  "We may have to put on clothes ( Read more... )

"So you have this woman going with you," she asks, bumping the door of her flat open with her hip.  "She any good with a P90?"

She has to stay a few steps ahead of him, just out of his grasp, smiling over her shoulder as he follows her over the bridge.  Playfully, she holds him at bay with one fingertip in the center of his chest.  "Not out here."

It takes her a moment to get the door open, and of course, it jams, making her use her hip and her weight to bump it open.

Michael hears her footsteps on the stairs long before he hears the insistent knocking at his door.

Fiona, on a mission.

Stand back.

( Ramon~ )

Fiona slips from between the sheets and drifts into the kitchen.  She takes a clean glass from the rack and takes a glass of water straight from the tap, drinking it all down in one go.  Too much tequila makes her feel like shit, and she'd like to avoid that ( Read more... )

[cont'd from here]

Fiona let them into the flat, bumping the door shut with her hip. "Beer's in the fridge.  Get me one too, please." She dumps the bags of take away Chinese on the table, and goes to find something more than a beach towel to wear.   Sitting on the edge of the huge clawfoot tub, she brushes the sand off her legs and feet, and ( Read more... )

[from here]

Fiona waits for Flynn to finish his beer and then leads the way to the stairs, pausing to blow kisses to a dark haired man in a really nice suit.

The man does not look happy.  Which only seems to cheer Fiona more.

Her door has a huge brass number four nailed in the center of it.  This door opens on a small foot bridge across empty space to ( Read more... )