maevelous | IC CONTACT

I'll give you the number. Just tell him you know me, and the rest will be taken care of accordingly.

[ And she does give him the number. Because these things are always best done without names attached. ]

Looking forward to it, darling.

[And so is he.

And when the night comes, he'll show up right on time, having the cab driver pull up in front of her place and give a little toot of the horn.]

[ Maeve heads out with a purse dangling from her hand, wearing a more modern style of attire. She couldn't cling on to the saloon girl attire forever, and hell, she was almost glad to be rid of the damn corset.

She slides into the back of the cab with ease, giving a brief nod to the driver and then leaning in to press lips to Alfie's cheek in greeting. ]

So how far are we traveling, darling? Shall I inform my employer I won't make it in tomorrow?

[Daaaamn, girl. Alfie's not in a suit or anything - he's not really a suit guy - but his shirt, shoes, and slacks are noticeably nicer than normal. Though like all of his clothes, they're still old-fashioned, and wouldn't look at all out of place in the 1920s.]

I found us a restaurant instead of a pub. Hope you don't mind.

[He's assuming not, since she'd let him have full reign in choosing where they went.]

Would you be prepared for an overnight trip? Have you got the things for it?

A smart woman never leaves the house unprepared.

[ And whether by prepared, Maeve just means she has a change of panties in her purse and she's good to go or an entire outfit remains to be seen. But either way, she leans back in the seat, making herself comfortable. ]

Goodness, you're going all out, aren't you? A restaurant.

[ Spoken with a playful wink. ]

A nice restaurant. Yeah. I've made us reservations.

[He looks her up and down appreciatively.]

And you're certainly dressed for it.

A proper date deserved a proper dress, after all.

[ Maeve smirks casually -- slyly even. ]

Though perhaps not so properly is the fact that I'm not wearing any knickers underneath this skirt.

[God. Alfie bites back on a grin, and his eyes flicker to the cabdriver for just a second. What a third wheel that guy is.]

Well, I suspect we'll have our fill of being proper at the end of the night, won't we? But I am wearing mine; I hope you'll forgive me.

Oh, I've little doubt those will be gone toward the end of the night, too.

[ Her head turns toward the window, watching the passing scenery -- the disappearing red and blue lights of cops pulling over cars in Maurtia Falls, the flashing neon lights from unsavory clubs. ]

So what is it you've done that landed you a pesky parole officer?

Well, you've heard about the bank robbing incident.

[He says with a little sigh.]

Of course, I didn't do it, but there's no way to prove that, is there. So they've got a man following me around for a bit. It'll be all over in a few weeks. I suppose the idea is that I'll be too irritated to commit any further crimes.

Well, I imagine had you done it, you wouldn't have been foolish enough to get caught.

[ Her hand rests on his thigh and slides inward a bit. ]

Of course, I have to wonder how you managed to take the fall for it. Wrong place at the wrong time?

Mistaken identity. Of a sort. I was nowhere near the bank at the time.

[Really, he knows exactly who did it and what their motive was, but he's keeping that information close to his chest.]

I'll sort it out. Just gonna wait for the right time, and I can be a patient man.

[He ghosts his fingers over the back of her hand and up her arm.]

Patient and noble, serving the sentence as though it's your own.

[ She studies him for a moment, trying to get a read on his rationale behind it all. But in the end, it doesn't really matter. Petty bank robberies aren't exactly anything new or unusual. ]

But no matter. Parole is a joke here, isn't it? These whole damn sentences are. I'd think they're trying to facilitate crime by giving us such a slap on the wrist.

[ She shrugs. ]

But I'll be the last person to argue for a change in the system.

That's a reason to go ahead with it, yes. I tried to argue against it, and it didn't work. I decided to be pragmatic about it; get it over with. It hasn't even fucked my reputation.

[Which is a little baffling to him, but.]

Looking like I'm giving in will make it easier to do what I like after. And that, I do plan to do.

But you.

[He shifts in his seat, turning to face her a little more.]

I'd like to hear more about your business. Either the one you've got here or the one you've got at home.

[ Maeve tilts her head, regarding him with interest. Just what is it he plans to do? But she figures she could get in on that as the conversation carries on. For now, it's the generic questions. ]

I managed whores at the Mariposa saloon back home.

[ No shame. No embarrassment. Prostitutes made a decent living. Especially ones who couldn't die when men got too rough. ]

Saw men from all walks of life. Courted a bank robber for a time. Probably several.

[ Maeve shrugs it off. In their park, many men are probably bank robbers. And train robbers. And robber robbers. But Hector was lore. Hector was a legend. ]

Here, I work for Sam Merlotte at his bar. You know the man? I'm one of his managers. Boring work, but it earns a penny and then some in tips. Can't say how long I'll stick with it. Perhaps we can rob a bank tonight, you and I to save me from the banal.

[ She's mostly joking. ]

I know him a bit, yeah.

[He knows of him, more like.

He nods at the cabbie, and says in a voice perfectly loud enough to be overheard:]

Well, we've got a getaway driver already, haven't we.

[Mostly, he's just curious to see how the guy reacts, if he reacts at all. Someone who will drive basically anywhere and not ask questions the way Maeve claims he will could be a useful thing. It'd be good to know where his lines are.]

[ The driver doesn't react at all one way or the other. He acts as though he hasn't heard a thing, and that's why Maeve likes him. No questions asked -- just paid to do what he's told. And carting criminals around does tend to be lucrative work. ]

We do. And this car has a hover option. Quick get away from any pesky officers who try to chase us down. I'm certain our friend there has outrun a few policemen in his day.

[ She glances at the driver, who again doesn't respond. ]

Quiet man, though. Enough to give you the willies, isn't it?

[He could just as easily be quietly gathering evidence to use against them, after all.]

Not in the least. I'd say he's a smart man.

[ Maeve is clearly not worried about a single thing. And whether that's because she's foolishly confident about their confidant or whether she has no qualms about silencing permanently are not things she'll let on about, but her hand does stroke up his thigh a bit higher. ]

When are these reservations? You and I don't have time to work up an appetite first, do we? Not here, of course. When we get there.

We've got--

[He checks his pocketwatch, making sure not to jostle her hand away as he does so.]

-- a good hour and a half. But I hope you're not actually thinking of bank-robbing.

[He presses a kiss to the side of her neck.]

Bankrobbing takes a touch longer than an hour and a half.

[ She tilts her head into his kiss, exposing more of her neck. ]

If you do it right. Not that I would know, of course.

[ Turning her head back toward him, Maeve intercepts his mouth with her own -- giving a taste before catching his bottom lip with her teeth. ]

Mm.

[He kisses back, breaking after a moment to murmur against her mouth:]

You'll have to tell me about it sometime.

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