#cfblackwidow

‘ you’ve led a very interesting life for quite a while, ms. rushman. as expected. ’ ed smiled tightly, tension lurking around his lips as he regarded his casual acquaintance. his voice was of a lower timbre, with less of the cheerful humor permeating their previous encounters. ‘ you look well. i’m glad that you were not harmed during the commotion at the festival, i was lucky to have made it out myself. i think i’ve had enough of new york for a while. ’ he chuckled, ‘ it’s good to run into you here, ms. rushman, to say farewell --- before we meet again. ’

‘ metal or bone I may be, many teeth i have and always bared. my bite means no harm and ladies delight in my touch. what am i? ’ he stood next to the long haired woman on the bridge, looking down at the river parade passing under their feet. it wasn’t one of the national holidays, or even a major occasion. but in the big apple, there’s always some festivity going on. edward smiled once he got his fellow spectator’s attention, holding out the referenced object.  ‘ ... you dropped your comb, miss. ’

Tony smirked, thinking about it for a minute. “You get...” he paused, “Full access to the office when I become mayor. You can bug me anytime you like. No pun intended.” he teased, looking at the flip the cup set up. “So what do you think? I personally think this game was made for you. So it’s sort of not fair.” 

she turned down the volume. the nurse sighed with a sense of finality to close up to the wound on the unconscious man nat dragged in. ‘ … not that it’s anything comparable to what you do, but i will say one thing about freelancing — now if they grab anything, i just grab right back. that usually shuts a perv up. i mean, they are under my knife after all, and what are they gonna do? file a complaint? ’

“that’s not a real question, is it?” jessica replies - but she makes an effort to reach for her good whisky, at least. she’s got a half-finished bottle of jack, somewhere - american shite if you ask her, but it gets the job done. but not this. this calls for a single malt, actually from scotland. she pulls out her glenfiddich, eighteen year aged, and splashes out a glass for each of them. “cheers.” she says, before raising hers and downing half the liquid in one sip.