At the Apartment
Emma walked into the apartment, the cuffs of her baggy denim jeans scuffing under her Doc heels. She let the door close gently behind her and slumped against it, the solid wood shutting out the rest of the world. Emma opened her eyes. Huh. No bike. Max was probably out enjoying herself. Yey her.
She looked down at herself. The zip up grey hoodie was smeared in mud and God knew what else. The green shirt of some random university, 'Miskatonic' or some such was much the same. Both were probably burnable. She was purely Salvation Navy stock. After spending the day in the Shades looking for 'help'? What else did she expect?
Emma needed a bath. A long one. She trotted up the stairs, envisioning a big bath full of bubbles to melt the tension from her shoulders. Emma walked into the bathroom to-
Sod it.
No bubble bath. Max still hadn't replaced the bottle she'd "broken".
"Buggeritmilleniumhandandshrimp," she exclaimed. Looking down once more in disgust, Emma stripped off and threw herself into the shower.
Stepping out a few minutes and two Blondie renditions later, she grabbed the first decent set of clothes she could find and headed into Callahan's.
On her way out the door, she paused, picking up a smell she hadn't before over the reek of her slum clothes.
Was that....
Wet dog?
Max was keeping a pet here?!?
"Dead woman. I'm living. With. A Dead Woman." Emma muttered as she slammed the door behind her, locking it firmly.
Now she definitely needed a drink.
She looked down at herself. The zip up grey hoodie was smeared in mud and God knew what else. The green shirt of some random university, 'Miskatonic' or some such was much the same. Both were probably burnable. She was purely Salvation Navy stock. After spending the day in the Shades looking for 'help'? What else did she expect?
Emma needed a bath. A long one. She trotted up the stairs, envisioning a big bath full of bubbles to melt the tension from her shoulders. Emma walked into the bathroom to-
Sod it.
No bubble bath. Max still hadn't replaced the bottle she'd "broken".
"Buggeritmilleniumhandandshrimp," she exclaimed. Looking down once more in disgust, Emma stripped off and threw herself into the shower.
Stepping out a few minutes and two Blondie renditions later, she grabbed the first decent set of clothes she could find and headed into Callahan's.
On her way out the door, she paused, picking up a smell she hadn't before over the reek of her slum clothes.
Was that....
Wet dog?
Max was keeping a pet here?!?
"Dead woman. I'm living. With. A Dead Woman." Emma muttered as she slammed the door behind her, locking it firmly.
Now she definitely needed a drink.