Thursday: Fixing the Facade
"Here." She dropped the folded sports section on top of his desk. "How you spent almost a century on the surface without becoming even a bit familiar with human sports is beyond me, but that's not the point."
He looked up at her, closed the thick leather bound book, and got to his feet. "Got all that from chit-chat with the doorman, did you?" The nonchalance is feigned, the malevolence not. And as always, she has no fear of calling his bluff.
"Sisters," she murmured, palms smoothing his shirt against his chest, "tell each other everything." Her smile could curdle milk. "I only want the mission to succeed." She picked up the folded paper. "Do us both a favor, and get up to speed."
He looked up at her, closed the thick leather bound book, and got to his feet. "Got all that from chit-chat with the doorman, did you?" The nonchalance is feigned, the malevolence not. And as always, she has no fear of calling his bluff.
"Sisters," she murmured, palms smoothing his shirt against his chest, "tell each other everything." Her smile could curdle milk. "I only want the mission to succeed." She picked up the folded paper. "Do us both a favor, and get up to speed."