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

[ashyperfume]

"Probably," she agreed, tapping the ash off the end of her cigarette. "God only knows what would happen if someone were to take you seriously."

Her eyes would probably tell him that she was poking at him again - and enjoying it, no less.

"Are you in town tomorrow?"

[trainwrecked]

Beat.

And then he frowned, slightly. "Somehow, I doubt many people did." A tad darker. "For different reasons than most recently, that is."

A shrug. "But, yeah, I think so. A few days is what I usually give myself, most places. More, in lower-tech countries. Less, in cities where I'd be expected."

[ashyperfume]

Her eyes narrowed towards him slightly -- a discerning, analyzing look. But whatever conclusion she came to, she kept it to herself, opting for the matter at hand.

"Tomorrow, then." She pushed off the wall. It was starting to rain again, but she didn't flinch at the droplets that slid into her hair, twisting back to face him. "My place."

[trainwrecked]

He'd find that.

"What time?"

'Tomorrow' had a duration of twenty-four hours. Specifics were good.

[ashyperfume]

"Nine." Her shoulder lifted, but she didn't look at him, toeing her cigarette against the pavement. ". . . Better make it nine-thirty."

"Not past your bedtime, I hope."

[trainwrecked]

"Nine thirty."

Acknowledgment, firm. And then, just as deadpan.

"And the bedtime really depends on the time zone."

[ashyperfume]

Likely very few could pull off deadpan in the same way that he could. She stared back at him a moment, then burst into a snort of laughter.

"Good night, James."

And then she was off into the rain, her heels clicking across the pavement. She didn't rush.

[trainwrecked]

He stared at her for a long, long moment. Those words...

It had been a very, very long time since anyone had said them to him. He couldn't recall who, or when, but it was a very long time ago.

Then he shook his head, and thought for a moment on what the answer should be. In the end, he settled on something which he knew could be a problem - he had been that problem, in some situations.

"Safe return home, Fuu."