Tying Loose Strings
Milly suppressed a yawn as she pulled her car into its usual spot adjacent to the store. She grabbed her coffee from out of the cup holder and started across the street, taking a minute to glance up at the weather which proved to be another clear and potentially beautiful day. The normality of heading into the shop and heading up towards her desk contrasted oddly with the events of the past couple of days. Just another day in Searchlight, she thought to herself and smiled wryly.

A man in polished, black shoes made his way down the center of the narrow sidewalk, never side-stepping as other pedestrians approached. His eyes were focused beyond them, on a bookstore with a green front. The corners of his mouth lifted as the dark-haired clerk hurried inside, a cup of coffee in her hand. He'd known that she would be there at just that moment, and had timed his appearance accordingly. A pale hand reached for the handle and he stepped inside, pausing to run his eyes over the interior before let them rest on the woman. "Good morning, Milly."


Milly glanced disinterested at the door figuring it was just another curious townperson until they addressed her. "Darian!" She was surprised at first to see him here. It had been what? Several weeks at the least. She had almost forgotten about their deal up until now and Milly had an ill feeling he would make sure she never would again. He did after all have a certain amount of power over her when it came to her powers. She turned around from the base of the stairs and set her coffee on the counter. "Did you need something?"

Darian slid both hands down the front of his business coat and gave the hem a tug. He started down the center aisle towards her then, taking his time and filling the room with the sound of his sharp footsteps. "Need something?" he mused. He paused just before her and lifted one hand to his chin, rubbing his fingers across the hairless skin. "I would not categorize it as a need. Rather, a payment of services rendered."

"Right. About that..." Milly clapped her hands together and brought them under her chin as her eyes drifted to their corners in a moment of thought. "I haven't had a chance to go into Vegas yet to service a client." Her brown eyes turned back to Darian and she brought her hands down.

Darian lowered his hands to clasp them behind his back. He tipped his head to the side and slightly forward. "Really, Milly. What on earth could have distracted you from a calling you so desperately wished to restore just a month ago? After all... you have such the reputation to uphold."

Milly raised an eyebrow, not at all appreciating the tone he took with her though this hardly was the time to air such little grievances. "Let's just say there's things around here to keep a person busy. Don't worry. You'll get your money soon enough. You can't rush an artist and expect good results, can you now?"

"Even artists have deadlines," Darian replied. "What you've been given comes with a pricetag, one on which my own ... comfort depends." He turned away from her and walked along a glass display case, seeming to peruse the items inside. He glanced back in her direction. "I do not wish to relinquish our contract. However, the fact remains that I have been most immediate in my end of the deal..."

"Like I said, don't worry. I'll go into Vegas... sometime this weekend. You'll have your money by Sunday. Just arrange a time and a place to get it." Milly leaned against the counter top and crossed her arms, waiting to see if he'd agree.

Darian returned to the counter, placing his palms along the edge and meeting her eyes. He seemed to be studying her, looking for truth. His annoyance was clear though restrained. Had she been human, he might have reached out and turned her neck. Her procrastination could have been perceived as a deal-breaker. Did she really think this was about money? Green pieces of paper that smelled of filth and brought the weak to their knees. "Perhaps you'd like to consider a change of payment," he said at last. "Something that would allow you more time to practice your generosity."

She lifted herself off of the counter and straightened her shoulders. "We went over this and my answer is still the same," said Milly, simple as that.

Darian ran one finger along the countertop, frowning at the light coating of dust that clung to his skin. He did not answer her immediately, merely rejoined his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels for a moment. "Your impudence is something of a risk, Milly. Particularly for someone whose greatest gift rides on the success of this agreement." Without warning, Darian lifted a fist and slammed it onto the glass surface of the display case. Shards of thick glass flew everywhere. A vein seemed to bulge in his temple, but he simply pulled a handkerchief from an inner coat pocket and wiped the trickle of blood from his hand. Darian readjusted his tie and cleared his throat. "I trust you'll do well this weekend." Darian turned and walked towards the door, his shoes grinding fragments of glass into the floor.

Milly cringed away from the pieces of glass that came hurtling towards her and she quickly covered her face with her hands. Between the gaps of her fingers she saw him take out his handkerchief and watched him leave. She slowly lowered her arms and looked around at the shards on the floor with a sickeningly realization that it could have just as easily been her lying broken on the floor. One thing was for sure, thought Milly as she numbly went to go fetch the dustpan, Milly was going to Vegas.