[Finished] Not a normal, apple-pie life after all

[Moved.]

thread status [complete]

A putrid place with its crowded back alleys, aural cacophony, and multitude of scents; it was something out of a Dickens book. Tyler pushed his gloved hands into the deep pockets of his overcoat, pressing his chin to his chest as he sought shelter from the cold air behind the thick woollen lapels. There were many things about Ravenblack City that he needed to learn before he set his sights on the target; and being a senior agent allowed him to pursue his research prior to the mission at his own pace, without anyone to look over his shoulder. Rumour was that one of the many black markets in this city was housed on Cedar St between 83rd & 97th, on the periphery of the city. It was evident that, as all great cities, Ravenblack would surely cater a certain amount of eccentricities, all of which he hoped to learn before immersing himself in the job—ignorance often compromised missions. And so, with a microwave-heated pot-pie in his stomach, and a minty piece of gum between his teeth, Tyler ventured towards the market.

And here he was, walking past makeshift stalls as vendors yelled at him and others, his body pressing against others as he made his way along one side of the bustling street. To be quite frank, he had not expected the market to cater to such peculiarity, its stalls offering anything from pickled hearts to vials of holy water. Lifting his shoulders to his ears to avoid leaving his head behind, the rim of his coat caused his longer strands to stick up at odd angles. Many times he was stepped on, but he figured there were just as many victims to his own hesitant step. With wide brown eyes, Tyler watched the scene he was part of; he assessed this city through fresh eyes whilst his exterior presented no reaction to the novelty he experienced. The last thing an agent wanted to do was to stand out, but unbeknownst to him, he did, at least to someone... or rather, something.

[Chloé Flannigan]

After the events of this evening, Chloe doubted she’d ever want to shift into her fox form ever again. It was true, she shouldn’t base her actions and reactions off this single momentous event. It was only one out of many, and there was small chance that it would happen again. Maybe it was her mistake. It was her punishment for thinking she could get any ounce of freedom out of shifting. These days, she was not bound to the movements of the moon. She could shift when and however she wanted. And she only did so on those nights that she was feeling constrained or caged. There was adrenaline and the feel of the air rushing through your fur...

Not now, however. Fate was trying to tell her that even as a fox she could feel constrained and caged. Literally.

There had been a trap laid out in the outskirts. When she stepped into it, Chloe suffered a moment of shock and disbelief. She didn’t think this kind of thing happened any more. It was an electronic trap, triggered by weight and hidden by leaves. It instantly caged her. And the cage was so small, and so steadfast, that she did not want to risk shifting back into her human form lest she break a few bones in the process. A fully grown woman would not fit in this cage, not at all. And besides, even if she could fit, it would not bode well if she still couldn’t escape and was found out here, naked, by some erstwhile hunter.

It was then that she really began to panic. She had images of men on horses with shotguns and hounds at their sides. Sure, that was a very Austenian interpretation of the event, and it was far from the truth. The truth was actually more of a relief than anything else. At least they weren’t going to immediately skin her alive.

Instead, they took her from the forest and toted her to the scummier part of the city. The black market had a roaring trade here, and Chloe began to understand what her fate was. She was to be sold. A real live wild fox! At least she couldn’t be flushed down the toilet. At least she didn’t shift into a baby alligator. There were pros to this situation. It could definitely be worse.

Inside of her little cage she twirled and circled, yapping every now and again as if to get someone’s attention. She was set up on a long table, amongst other cages of varying sizes. There were quite a few rabbits for sale, and right down the end was a full grown wolf. The look on its face was vicious, its teeth bared and snarling. At least she could pull off ‘cute’. All she needed was someone to buy her and open the cage. And then she could make a break for it.

And then she saw him. Chris!

This time she actually barked, and whined, a combination of the both as if she were trying to talk to him. He was walking closer, slowly but surely. She’d abandoned all reason in her desperation; Chris was no longer around and there was no way that he could have come back to the city without her realising it, right?

But before she’d comprehended that the guy wasn’t actually her beloved first childe, she send him a vague telepathic message;

“Chris, you have to help me! To your left!”

If the guy was her childe, he’d have known right away which animal she was.

Regardless, he still might have some clue.

She was making enough noise to deter most of the passerby.

[Moved.]

Tyler was completely flabbergasted by what he saw, his expectations vanquished in more ways than one. He made his way towards one of the many stalls and tentatively reached for a leather-bound book. Before his fingers could grace its undistinguishable cover, the wrinkled woman whipped the top of his hand with a makeshift rod of bunched up, dried twigs.

This is not for you! she warned him, her eyes crazy as she regarded him with an eccentricity particular to old witches in films. Furrowing his brow at her, he retrieved his injured hand and brought it to his chest to tend to it, fighting his urge to question her. It was no use getting involved in any ill encounter tonight, for he was merely an observer, too ripe to participate in any transactions or interactions. Tyler glanced down at the book one more time before shrugging at her, deciding it was best he left given the discomfort her presence caused.

But seriously, what the hell had she meant? Surely if that was for sale, any one could purchase it, no? Dropping the assaulted hand into his pocket, he scratched the underside of his jaw as he continued to meander, this time approaching a menagerie. It pained him to see such animals trapped in cages, some of them stripped of their mystical allure. He had done some undercover word in Central and Southeastern Asia regarding the trafficking of furs and ivory, a job which had left him permanently marked.

Chris, you have to help me!

A strange occurrence took place. Amongst the aural chaos surrounding him, there was a particular voice that was clearly distinguishable. He glanced around him in search of the perpetrator—possibly a female in her 20s, fair skinned given the Irish accent. There seemed to be no one in the crowd that fit the description, so he broadened his search terms and tried to scope out someone. He wasn’t a Chris, surely the person must have noticed that, which was why he was not beckoned a second time. Yet, the voice had sounded strained, its plea genuine and urgent; no one in the crowd appeared to be particularly perturbed. Furrowing his brow, he turned his head back towards an ivory display when the voice sounded in his mind again.

To your left!
This was peculiar.
Hesitantly, he straightened his back and made his way towards the next table immediately to his left, where in a cage was one noisy little fox. He glanced down at it briefly before he caught sight of the merchant.

Better than a watch dog isn’t it he commented bemusedly, glancing over at the merchant whilst gesturing towards the boisterous creature.

A noisy little bitch she is, she’s yours for 20000 the man grunted in a raspy voice. Tyler appraised his well-fed frame, prickly double-chin, and the worn grimace upon his aged face—this man surely would not be a great source of conversation. He did look desperate enough to rid himself of the merchandise, for his table appeared to be as full as ever. Clearly people were not buying wild animals, but the man was pushing his luck by pricing it this high.

Shrugging lightly, he glanced along the table at the quieter animals, clearly not interested in purchasing anything. What would he do with a pet? He could barely keep cactus plants alive. Returning his hand into his pocket, he cast a sidelong glance towards the fox once more.

[/SIZE]

[Chloé Flannigan]

If Chloe were human, she would have flinched at the high price the merchant asked for her. Somewhere, deep down, she was flattered. No one had ever told her that she was a particularly beautiful or cute fox. Somehow, having such a high price on her made her feel a little better about herself. But it didn’t help an ounce in this predicament she was in. As the merchant offered his price, the fox had fallen silent. She wagged her tail in anticipation, and stared intently at Chris...

Though now that he was close enough, and now that she could get a better look, a better smell, she realised it was not Chris. There was no link, and he did not smell familiar. At all. In her tiny chest, that rapidly beating heart of hers metaphorically sunk. If he did not recognise her, then why should he want to part with his precious money to buy a rowdy fox, no matter how silky or flawless her hide was.

Still, she barked once in ascent, bowing her head as she looked up at him. Do it, she urged.

”Do it, and I’ll pay you back.” She sent.

She was wary and didn’t like to intrude the stranger’s mind another time. She’d only done so before because she’d thought, irrationally, that it was Chris. Now, if this one bought her, she’d have to change her plans. She’d have to slip away and make sure that he did not see her. How she planned to pay him back she didn’t know, but she would. She vowed it.

The Merchant gave her an odd look, but Chloe ignored him. Yeah, she was acting strangely. She was not acting like an ordinary fox. The other animals around her were still making small amounts of noise, whimpering and pawing at the edges of their cages, wanting release. Some didn’t even seem to care what was happening to them. But the fox was lucid, was paying attention, as if she knew exactly what was happening.

Well, she did.

”Quickly, else he’ll put the price up.” She urged once more. She could see it, that glimmer of greed in the Merchant’s eyes, that arch of his eyebrow as he realised she could be sold for a higher price if she was tame. And, well, Chloe was desperate. As soon as she’d sent the message she yipped, bouncing once on her small paws, careful not to hit her head on the top of the cage, though it was hard to do.

[Moved.]

Tyler’s left brow crept upwards as he regarded the fox with reservation, his feet slowly leading him towards the cage.

Quickly, else he’ll put the price up

He crouched in order to be at eye level with the yipping animal, his hands fisted within his pocket as he scrunched the coat to his waist so it would not drag on the floor behind him. Tilting his head at the vixen, he offered the animal a bemused smile as his eyes wandered, studying the cage.

What an odd little creature, he mused out loud, his tone inquisitive almost, his eyes fixed upon the miniature beast ahead of him. Surely the poor animal’s fate was sealed if it were to remain in the cage, though Tyler saw little gain from letting the animal out into this city’s bustling streets; a wild animal in the city was a preposterous notion to associate with survival. Clearing his throat, he glanced up at the merchant, who was waiting with his arms folded over his protruding belly, clearly holding his tongue lest he dampened the buyer’s interest in purchasing the fox.

I do not have that kind of money, sir, Tyler straightened back up to his full height, shrugging his shoulders, In fact where I come from, England, mind you, he added, purposely acting pompous, The hunt is what makes the animal worth anything, like this however, it is worthless...

Well, you aren’t there, are you? You are here. So either pay up, or run along. the man replied gruffly, clearly disillusioned by the revelation; Tyler had no interest in purchasing such a beast. However, he would let it go, merely because the creature seemed intuitive enough that making its way out of here unharmed did sound plausible. He would suffer a different fate unfortunately.

It wouldn’t be too pleasant for the creature, but the tumble did permit the cage to crash open. What followed next happened in a blur, and by the time Tyler tore his eyes off the disappearing creature, he was greeted with a jaw popping punch. Luckily he had a few moves up his sleeves and once he slipped out of his coat (which was now utterly soiled, laying on the ground) he delivered a few blows of his own. Eventually the fight came to an end when the gruff merchant tumbled back onto another dealer’s table, allowing Tyler to slip past the bystanders as their attention was captured by a new brawl.

By the time he made his way out of the bustling market, his eyebrow, lip and cheek were cracked open, rivulets of fresh blood beginning to dry upon his otherwise handsome face. His nose had stopped bleeding a few minutes prior, but his upper lip was still lined by the remnants he hadn’t wiped off with his handkerchief. Sniffling loudly, he grunted and grimaced, gathering a substantial amount of blood and spit in his mouth before shooting it out onto the sidewalk. A chill crept down his spine, causing him to shudder visibly as his attention turned to his soiled coat. Holding it up before him, he let out an exasperated sigh.

I sure hope it was worth it... he mumbled, actually quite energized by the eruption of testosterone-driven anger, it had allowed him to distress ever so slightly. The endorphins were beginning to kick in too, and despite his pitiful state, he was quite merry about the whole thing, chuckling quietly to himself as he stood by the curb.

[Chloé Flannigan]

Chloe did not expect it to happen in such a way. One second, she was watching the two men talk, heart sinking as the Chris look-a-like told the merchant his intentions in a round-a-bout way. He wasn’t going to buy anything, and all Chloe’s efforts were for naught. But the next second, she was tumbling around inside that little cage as it fell to the ground. Although she feared a broken claw, she ignored the slight sting as the cage door swung open. It evidently wasn’t a very expensive cage. Either that, or it had seen far better days.

Tasting her freedom, and giving in to the natural instincts of the body she resided in, Chloe ran for the hills. Literally. There were a few hills in the outskirts of the city, and they were particularly fun. It was toward the trees she sprinted, unable to wait for the security of their bent boughs.

But half way there she came to a slow halt. She could see her safety in the distance, and longed for it. But she also wanted to thank the young man for helping her out of this scrape. She doubted he’d have been received well by the shady merchant who’d caught her to begin with. And all because he’d wanted to save her some horrid fate.

So she backtracked, and was relieved when she found the man not within the market itself, but outside of it, standing on a curb. At least he wasn’t frowning.

But she couldn’t likely thank him as she was. Nor could she thank him in her human form...not yet, anyhow. Not if she wanted to retain her dignity. So without further ado, she trotted toward the male and jumped once upon her hind legs, yipping and nipping at the corners of the coat. She caught the material gently at her maw and tugged at it, before releasing it again.

It was a fox-like way of asking for the coat. She wanted it. And if he did not give it to her... well she’d have to track him down at a later date....or cause a scene.

[Moved.]

The piece of gum he had been chewing on since his departure from home no longer held any interest to him, its flavour was gone and his jaw muscles were sufficiently strained by the fight. Spitting it onto the ground, he furrowed his brow at the coat. As a government worker he received a decent salary, but this coat was particularly expensive and irreplaceable. Surely he should be able to find a drycleaner’s that could fix it up, but Tyler was never good at following through when it came to his personal life. Clearing his throat, he lowered his coat to gaze at the edges of the city, the silhouette of various warehouses lining the deteriorating roads that bordered the outskirts. There probably would be no proper store opened at this time where he would be able to find a replacement; and even if there was, Tyler was a picky shopper. Clicking his tongue, he assured himself he would go tomorrow morning to the mall complex near his current residence. For now he would have to warm up by making it back to his car at a moderate pace (albeit a slight limp), and then into the warmth of his home.

Just as he lowered the coat to drape it upon his forearm’s anterior surface, a familiar sound caught his attention. Perking his brow at the disturbance, which he assumed to be a dog, he made a slight ‘oh’ sound when he realized what the pestering beast was. How odd, for he had been around foxes sufficiently to know that they were not prone to approach civilization if they had had a bad encounter prior. Sniffling, Tyler crouched, tugging the coat away from the brute’s bite lest it take another taste of it. Tilting his head at the animal, he tentatively lowered his hand before hesitance got the best of him, causing him to retract it back. It sure was a beautiful fox, but all sorts of diseases flourished in these kinds of environments.

You are quite an odd little creature, aren’t you? he questioned the animal, raising an eyebrow before glancing around. Perhaps the animal was lost? Had it followed him? Why would a wild animal follow him lest it was trained? Was it trained? Was that why the price was so high? Furrowing his brow, Tyler stood to his full height once more and glanced down at the dog warily, clearly of unsure of himself.

Sit he urged quietly, the word taking on a slight interrogative tone. He was more than happy to escort the little beast towards the outskirts, it was merely a few blocks on foot and perhaps the animal was lost. Poking at his sinus, he glanced over his shoulder as people walk past.

[Chloé Flannigan]

It seemed no amount of urging on Chloe’s part would have the man give her his jacket. Of course, it was understandable. No person could ever rationally assume any animal capable of free thought. But it irked her that this man thought she was some tame beast that would do as it was told. He was irksome. Chloe was not the type to judge upon first appearance or first impression. Especially when the person didn’t know they were in the process of making a first impression.

So instead of sitting, she huffed a sigh (which might have looked a bit like a sneeze, coming from the fox), and trotted away. There was no reason why she shouldn’t just go home right now. She had a way of getting up that fire escape and jumping through the window, which she’d left open for her own purposes. Luckily, Pandora was a house cat, through and through, and had no interest in leaving the apartment.

But Chloe wanted to thank this man, even if he was irksome. And there was something about his looks, and how he could have been some Doppelganger of Christopher’s come to taunt her. She did not want to go home just yet.

And yeah she was odd. That, she took as a complement. But after she revealed her last trick, he was going to realise just how odd she really was. It would be amusing, really.

She disappeared behind a dumpster—not exactly the most discreet of places, but there was no-one else around. For now. She only hoped it stayed that way. Otherwise she would just change right back and be on her way without a backward glance. A new acquaintance was not worth terrifying embarrassment.

Once securely behind the dumpster she focused on whatever it was that allowed her to change back. It was like commanding her own DNA to do something against its nature; except that it had become second nature. It was like commanding her foot to take a step forward or her middle finger to stay erect to form a rude gesture. As easy as that.

So in place of a fox was a fully grown woman, completely naked. She peeked over the top of the dumpster, careful to keep everything but her face from view.

“I’ll try it again. Can I have your jacket, please?”

[Moved.]

Tyler repressed any sign of amusement as the animal trotted off. There surely were better things for him to do this evening that chase after a wayward fox, but he was rather invested in the matter and wanted to make sure his efforts weren’t in vain. Clearing his throat, he looked around him to make sure no one was aware of what was going on, and followed the furry beast into a rather grotesque alley. Peering into it, he straightened his shoulders and raised his hand to his nose, protecting it not only from fumes but from any bacteria from sticking to the open wound.

The fox had certainly appeared to have some sort of hidden agenda, but he had no idea it had been a woman’s pet guiding him to her. Hers was the same voice he had heard previously, which made him quite confused as he stared at her. If she had been behind the dumpster all this time, then how come she had managed to speak to him? No, this made no sense. Anyways, the realization that there was a rather attractive woman standing in the nude behind a dumpster was sufficient to annihilate any resolve to explain what was happening.

“Blimey!” he lowered his hand from his nose and glanced down at his coat, not understanding the use of again in her sentence. Unfolding the item in question, Tyler approached the dumpster hesitantly with his arm outreached.

“May I inquire as to why exactly are you naked?” he questioned, his eyes trailing southwards despite her body being out of his sight. “Oh right, he added, turning his head around as he held the soiled coat in her direction. Having been raised with brothers and his father, it always took a bit longer for him to figure out what to do when in an embarrassing situation with the opposite sex.

[Chloé Flannigan]

As he got closer, Chloe inched further away, further into the shadows. She remembered too late that she could have hidden herself more properly amongst the shadows, but she was drained enough as it was. She might not have been able to pull it off to a satisfactory level.

Of course he’d ask that question. Of course, being human, and ignorant, he wouldn’t have put two and two together. He wouldn’t have noticed the sudden disappearance of the fox and the appearance of a woman in its stead. No, of course he’d think there was some other reason, and she didn’t quite know how to go on. How could she possibly tell him the truth? Though she supposed she probably looked nut already. What more could she do to this first impression?

She just huffed a sigh and pretended to be irritated in order to hide her embarrassment. She snatched the coat from his fingers, uncaring of its filthiness. As long as it covered her up it would be a royal cape. She pulled it over her bare shoulders and crossed it over the front, holding it tight so that it wouldn’t fly open again. Only once it was fastened did she step from her hiding place.

“Well I’m not naked any more, am I?” She said, sheepish and verging on complete and utter nerve-wracking shyness. Why had she been so determined to thank this man face to face?

“You look a hell of a lot like someone I used to know.” She said. It was the only reason she felt able to speak to him at all—he looked so much like Chris. Didn’t act like him though, and the accent was totally wrong. Still.

And though she knew she probably should try find some kind of explanation as to her nakedness, she was drawing a complete blank. And though she’d formerly resolved to just tell him the truth, her resolve had completely disappeared. And she should have thanked him, too, but the words stuck in her throat. How could she thank him for releasing a fox that had disappeared?

[Moved.]

The bellowing of a passing ambulance caused Tyler’s attention to shift momentarily from the female, and when she spoke again he turned to look over his shoulder before turning fully to face her now-covered form. Offering her an uncomfortable smile, he reached up to his chin to scratch at the dried blood that was causing the most unpleasant of itches along his wounds. There was a pounding in the back of his head; though it was ebbing away ever so slowly he still grimaced in consequence as a sharp ache settled in his sinus where a fist had surely injured the cartilage. Tyler glanced past her into the darkened alley, and concluded that it would be best they move out of such a place. However, in the state she was, he doubted she had any interest in walking the streets barefoot and naked (under the coat). Clearing his throat, he shifted his weight onto his left foot and glanced back at her.

“May I offer you a ride home, or somewhere safer than here at best?”

There was no rational way to explain why a fox had knowingly led him anywhere, and though it seemed to be too far of a stretch of the imagination to pass this off as mere coincidence, he decided to let the matter go... for now at least. His head was not in the best of shapes, and he could really use a nice block of ice and some time on his back to rest. Peering around her once more, he furrowed his brow, obviously confused about the entire incident, but still not ready to confront her about it. Tyler had had a fair share of bizarre encounters during his life, this would simply be another on the list.

“You shall be no imposition, I promise, Miss....?” he added briefly, cupping his cheek for a few seconds before combing his long strands back behind his ear. It was only then that he noticed the fresh blood lingering around his lobe, but he did not show any sign of panic as he raised his bloodstained fingers to eye-level. Clearly, Tyler Harle had been through his fair share of scuffles.

[Chloé Flannigan]

Of course she ought to have expected him to offer something. Probably best that he was not some raving mad man cloaked in the clever disguise of someone handsome. Even then, who knew? He may still be some raving mad man. He could simply be hiding the fact, like the stalker she’d had those months ago. A stalker who was now dead and gone, much to Chloe’s... well, she didn’t really know how she felt about it. The whole incident was lost in the memories of her pursuit of Thaddeus.

“Chloe Flannigan.” She answered him, clearing her throat thereafter and wondering how best to go on. His accent and framing of words was so proper, she was thoroughly aware of falling short. Her own accent would be crass and third-world in comparison to his, and she certainly didn’t speak as if she belonged to the higher echelons of English society. And besides, she found her voice lacking in volume, now that she paid it some attention. The terrible yapping and noise she’d made as the fox seemed to translate to her human form—her throat ached, as if she’d been screaming all night at some loud, live concert. She cleared her throat again, before answering his former question.

“If you like. I live...” Well, she didn’t exactly know where they were. She blinked, and stepped past him out of the alley in an attempt to find some street sign from which she could figure out where she was in relation to her own home. The street sign was too far away, and at an odd angle.

“Where exactly are we?” She asked. It gave away the oddness of her situation... that she should find herself naked behind a dumpster in an alley, without even the smallest inkling where she was. But she had been displaced rather severely by that stupid merchant. She had a vague plot forming in the back of her mind to go foraging through the forest next time she was there to disarm every single trap she came across. It would be an action in vain, no doubt, as they would just be reset the next day. But it would offer her some kind of consolation, and revenge for her former predicament.

For which she would find a way to thank this well-spoken stranger. She just needed some time to figure out how. She glanced over her shoulder at him, waiting to know where she was...she might then be able to properly accept his offer.

[Moved.]

“I believe, Miss Flannigan...” Tyler furrowed his brow as his sentence was cut short by the sudden realization that he had no idea of their exact location. Following in her footsteps, he diverted his gaze to her bare feet as she came to a stop in the middle of the pavement. Stopping short of bumping into her, he glanced back in the direction of the street where the market was located. The souk stretched along Cedar Street from 83rd to 97th, which meant this road they were one was perpendicular and thus a numbered street... Which one however, he did not know.

“That over there...” he glanced towards the illegible street sign at the corner, squinting as he tried to make out the letters. “Must be Duck, as this over here is Cedar...” he stepped back to allow her a decent view of the busy street. His eyesight was not particularly impressive, but he was able to see the surface area of the letters. Considering that Cedar was between Cormorant and Duck, it could only make sense that such a short name, no matter how indecipherable from a distance, was in fact the latter.

“I believe I am parked no more than four blocks down that way…” he glanced back towards the illegible street sign, rolling his shoulders back as he reached for his jaw once more to massage the underside. Moving his hand up to his hair, combing it back with his hands once more, he glanced down at her, “...however I have no idea what number we are on, so it may be a bit further...”

Clearing his throat, he clasped both his hands together, blowing into them discreetly before lowering and moving them so that the friction would warm up his palms. It would be most advantageous for both of them to make haste, for neither were dressed according to the weather, and surely she must be in worse condition than him.

“I will however need the keys if you don’t mind...” he interjected with an amused smile, casting a side-glance her way. “In the left breast pocket...” he added, offering her a toothless smile before looking back ahead of him, clearing his throat.

[Chloé Flannigan]

As soon as she heard the ‘C’ word—the one pertaining to which street they were on—but her quick mind soon corrected her mistake and her heart sunk. There would be no walking home... or she could, but it would take the rest of the night to do so. The ‘C’ street which she resided upon (Cobalt) was at the other side of the city. There was always public transport, or a cab. But she had no money for either of them. And even if she could sneak onto the train and hope not to be nabbed by the inspectors, she hardly wanted to do so wearing what she was currently wearing.

So she could not refuse this kind gentleman’s help. He’d helped so much already, and she’d have to impose on him further. Yeah, sure he said that she was not an imposition, but people always said things like that and didn’t mean them. She still felt like an imposition.

He’d told her where the car was and how far they’d have to walk. She nodded resignedly and gave a short smile—she started to head in the direction he’d gestured, until he told her he’d need the keys. In the left breast pocket. Chloe glanced down at the jacket—she was not at all used to men’s jackets, and she was looking for the pocket on the outside. There was no pocket on the outside, however. In order to get the keys she’d have to sift around inside the jacket, and by doing so she risked flashing unwary strangers more flesh than she wished to.

So she cleared her throat, bowed her head and turned away from the gentleman; her face screwed into an expression of concentration as she used one hand to hold the jacket shut whilst the other slid into the confines. Swiftly, her fingers fumbled about until she found the cool metal of the keys. She retrieved them with a flourish, and had done so without flashing anyone anything.

“There you are.” She said, turning back to him with a triumphant grin.

After which, there came a cat call from somewhere on the other side of the street. Chloe was becoming more uncomfortable by the second, and her triumph vanished.

“Hmm, we should go...?” She said, the sentence half sounding like a statement and half sounding like a question. She was in no position to be ordering anyone anywhere, and she was still a little insecure, regardless of how many people who told her she shouldn’t be. Still, she didn’t wait for his answer as she turned around and started walking in the aforementioned direction.

[Moved.]

Tyler watched her as she turned her back to him and delved into the coat for the keys. He stifled his amusement as best as he could, but a pleased expression remained upon his features when he chose to look elsewhere whilst she searched. When she did hand him the keys, he glanced back at her briefly, for his attention was immediately captured by the man responsible for such lewd attention. The MI6 agent scanned the people there, noticing a group of tattered men watching Miss Flannigan from across the street. Casting them stern glance, he returned his attention to the woman besides him.

“Yes...” he replied distractedly, beginning to walk behind her as he glanced in the men’s direction over his shoulder once more. It would be hypocritical to say Tyler was not a man who was ruled by his desires, but rarely did he resort to such crudity when dealing with the opposite sex. His two aunts had been present figures in his and his brother’s lives, which had somewhat made up for the lack of mothering they’d received. Though he could succumb to a certain amount of crassness when caught up in the moment, he knew that few women were ever comforted by or attracted to such behaviour at their expense. Picking up his step to make up for his late start, Tyler gingerly set his hand above the small of her back and lead her around the clusters of people on the sidewalks.

Once they turned on the street where he was parked, he retrieved his hand and glanced both left and right before crossing the cobblestone road. There, parked along the sidewalk was a silver XC90 Volvo, its wheels and lower tier covered in dried mud. Over the weekend he had ventured towards a neighbouring town to enjoy the fresh slopes of white powder. The melted snow had caused the roads to be muddy on his way down though, and he had yet to find a reason to clean the wretched thing. Tyler’s policy was that as long as the inside remained clean and he could see out the windows, there was no need to wash the vehicle.

“Here we are” he announced, pressing the button that would disengage the alarm. On any other occasion he may have opened the door for her, but he was not courting her and thus did not think of expressing any superfluous chivalry. Pulling the driver’s door open, he slipped in comfortably and slammed the door shut. Glancing over his shoulder at the mess overflowing from the trunk (skiing and snowboarding gear), he pulled the seatbelt across his chest, and then turned the engine on.

“I am afraid I am not well acquainted with these streets,” he announced, glancing at her as she settled in. He did not turn the Global Positioning System on, for he did not particularly want to reveal any information pertaining to his job that may come up inadvertently.

“Where to?” he asked, glancing into the mirrors as he slowly pulled out from the parking spot. Once on the street, he reached for the heater and fidgeted with it until a constant stream of warm air flowed to their feet and hands.

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