[Sodium_noir] Hell is Other People

[Jennie Teakle]

Sinclair Mansion
late


Christine
Mage

A yellow cab sluices to a halt in front of the impressive entrance.  
The passenger window winds down and a redhead leans out, gives the  
locale a swift once over. Her lips purse as if whistling but any  
sound is drowned out by the bronchial growl of the cab's engine. She  
disappears for a moment then re emerges, opening the door and  
stepping out of the taxi with slightly exaggerated care. The cab  
speeds off in a spray of gravel leaving Christine eyeing the majestic  
Sinclair Mansion owlishly. It really is a most imposing residence;  
anyone who *is* anyone in Gotham City is currently inside enjoying  
Lady Marguerite's hospitality.

So . . . what's your line, Miz Noboby McAbee, thinks Christine.  
Anyone order pizza? Giggling - until she realises that this plays  
merry hell with her already precarious balance, Christine makes her  
way carefully up the steps and to the doors. These are open and  
guarded by a discreetly liveried Sinclair employee. Christine fixes  
him with a dazzling smile and a mostly in focus gaze.

"Christine McAbee, Crosby party." She congratulates herself on the  
crisp confidence of this statement.  "Little late," she confides to  
the impassive flunky. "Waylaid by . . . "

  Some serious vodka and a couple of sociable lil tequila shots?  
Christine's giggles threaten a return.

" . . . business." She refocuses her wavering stare, hitches her  
smile up a notch. There is a faint tic beside the Admirable  
Crichton's granite jaw, a flicker of resignation in his eyes but he  
doesn't bar Christine as she breezes past him. Hey, she thinks,  
pleased. I must have passed the dress code!

She does falter a little once inside. It's a bit overwhelming, what  
with all the sweeping staircase, glossy marble, sparkly chandeliers  
and - Lord Above! - spangly fine throng of high class types.  
Christine pauses and scans uncertainly around, looking for a familiar  
face - and spots a familiar back. Pale and slender, emerging from a  
slinky black dress. Mara. Christine doesn't recognise the handsome  
aristocrat her former employer is chatting to but she double takes at  
the woman who twines close to him. Sugar! The girl from the Iblis  
kidnap! It's the first time Christine has seen her in the flesh, so  
to speak, but her face and figure are unforgettable. It's definitely  
her.

Christine hesitates. She can't quite see herself - not even this  
loaded - approaching Mara while she's doing the socialite thing.  
Can't quite brazen that one out . . . yet. But a couple more drinks  
and who knows? She glances about, starting to panic a little now,  
until her frantic cast happens upon a fellow redhead. Aurora! Oh  
thank Christ! And Jack! They both look about as comfortable amid  
their surroundings as Christine feels. With a sigh of relief,  
Christine heads over.


Tag Aurora, Jack (& Mara?)

		
___________________________________________________________ 
The all-new Yahoo! Mail goes wherever you go - free your email address from your Internet provider. http://uk.docs.yahoo.com/nowyoucan.html