For ashyperfume

[trainwrecked]

It took a while, before he dialed the phone on the card. Weeks, he thought, he wasn't very good at keeping up with the dates. Or, rather, he didn't care that much.

But time had passed since the party. He'd memorized the information, then burned the card - in his experience already, anything after the last wipe wasn't going away, so he was using what part of his memory he could. Extensively.

In the end, though, he just picked a street phone and punched the number.

"Ms. Fukuyama?" Yes, she'd told him to call her Fuu. He couldn't be sure she'd pick up the phone herself. "This is James Banes."

That was how normal conversations went, wasn't it?

Comments

[trainwrecked]

He wasn't sure what she was talking about for a moment, she did know what he looked like, after all...

... and then he put it together. His mouth twitched, behind the phone receiver, but his voice was as serious as when he was mentioning the hour.

"The very one." Yes, he was, in fact, capable both of thinking fast... and of traces of humor. It just wasn't something that occurred to him easily, these days, the latter one.

[ashyperfume]

Was that a joke? Had he actually played back? In full honesty, she couldn't be sure. On the one hand, the idea was absurd; on the other, he maintained such deadpan composure, even in this, that it was challenging to tell without seeing the tell-tale quirks of the mouth. She very nearly laughed outright. As it was, the wisps of humor emerged in her voice.

"9:00, then, Mr. Banes. Safe flight."