It was a surprisingly elegant building, a location that not many in the city could afford. Someone had taken their time with the architectural details, putting time and affection into plaster and polished woodwork. Everything was clean, carefully chosen, from a table in a niche to the high polish of the brass.

Traveling from the roof, James might have been the recipient of a faintly suspicious look from an elderly woman and her small, fluffy poodle as he boarded the elevator from an upper level and headed down, making a stop that was not the lobby. But she had the good grace not to comment, merely pressing her lips together as he stepped off at Fuu's floor and the elevator door slid back closed.

It took a few moments before Fuu answered the knock, the sound of a chain sliding before the door opened. Her hair was wet as though recently from a shower, damp around her face, and she was dressed as though for bed, in a silk nightgown and short outer robe that left her legs pale and bare.

Her eyes greeted him, warming to the sight of his face before she pulled the door open wider to let him inside, opposite hand reaching to run her fingers through her wet hair. "There's Chinese on the way."