#ext. firepit.

"By the end of the week, if I don't find someone to let me use their shower -- I'm going to look like David Bowie did in Labyrinth." And that was terrible, horrifying. A hand came up, running through the silk of blonde hair. Still, she stretched her legs towards the fire, a small smile tugging at her lips as the effects of one too many drinks set in. "I wish he was here, he would've loved this shit." Leyla, too.

Everyone else had found somewhere better to be, it supposed.

Amélie had attempted to find the one place no one was. Thankfully, as she walked towards the firepit, it looked completely empty. Not another soul was around, as the red and orange melded into one and twisted upwards to the sky, a billow of smoke carried away by a phantom wind.

It wasn't until she rounded the fire that she spotted one other person.

Oh, you've gotta be kidding. Lara. She should've laughed at the irony, of all the people she was trying to escape, of all the Rutherford's, it was either her or Gideon. Not when he was on a manhunt for his replacement. But what right did she have? They weren't together anymore, and it wasn't her place.

Their life never had been. His, yes. But with him came entanglements she couldn't be involved with, no matter how much she wished she could've changed things. She couldn't. But Lara? She'd never been warm, not someone she'd believed she'd ever have a close relationship with.

Knowing of Andrew's and Felicity's friendship — the fact that none of what she'd recorded could be used...meant she'd have to make it up. Because of them. So, she'd admit, with dramatic effect...she walked just close enough to Lara and tossed her notebook into the fire.

A flurry of sparks flying off.

"I'm not stupid." it came out before she could stop herself, and maybe it was because she was a girl who usually felt the need to use a thousand words to get one across: but as she sat down, she realised that was getting her nowhere. "I know your family control..." She didn't even have words to describe the magnitude. "So much." the thick gulp that followed was because she knew whom she was talking to. One of Amélie's greatest skills was her ability to research, to investigate: she now knew. "I made a promise to Gideon that I'd never be public about anything." Because she refused to be like his ex-wife.

"Well, I'm off my fuckin' face, so you've got one of two options." A smug smile on his lips, bottle buzzed alongside it, as he took another swig. "You can come over and listen to me play the guitar by the firepit and make women...swoon." he wasn't overacting, it was lighthearted, a chuckle following as he turned his gaze to the burning fire. "Or we can take a walk," nudging her with an elbow. "Feel like we rarely get time like we used to anymore." Many nights they'd spent talking, not talking...he missed her.

"I tried to hit on your friend," Odile said in way of greeting, taking the seat directly next to Nora, offering an easy smile, and a quick raise of her glass -- thankfully, the dent in her bank account would be minor to be afford the luxury of drinks this weekend. Some, however, would suffer or it. "He didn't take it very well..." she paused, laughter bubbling on her lips. "I don't think the shirts are working."