O f c o u r s e she knocked on the door, but she didn’t so much as wait politely to actually enter Peter’s apartment. Another day full of powerful blasts that seemed to land her nowhere in particular, a day where her questions were questioned. It was really just becoming typical. “Do you have more of those Messy John sandwiches?” Words flew out of her as feet paced quickly on the floor. “I think I might try bringing them to work and just letting them fall out of my bag like right on the floor. Maybe that’s how they want me to catch war criminals, yeah?’ With a huff, in her usual ungraceful manner, her body fell back onto the sofa, looking around momentarily for a cat to find her lap. “But you think I’m bloody brilliant right? What’s the different, cat, if I interrogate with my feet on the table? It’s a part to play, it is.” Then, she remembered where she was and looked back up to her friend with a typical warm, inviting smile as that had always been her best penance; fingers petting over fur as almost an apology to a grand entrance. “D i d y o u k n o w you have the loveliest eyes, darling? Really outshining my own especially in this light.” @peterparlak
