( one of the things that surprises her most about life away from the 707 is how positively quiet the nights are. can barely remember the last time she heard crickets chirping over the relentless noise and chaos of the bang-a-rang. one might think the peace would help her sleep more soundly, but instead meredith finds the quiet unnerving. after so many years, pounding music and bar fights were practically her own personal lullaby.
so she goes out. finds some little dive bar where the men make perfectly polite conversation while carefully watching each little shift of her skirt.
it's late. cabs are starting to park down the street, just waiting for the drunks to start staggering out, and any minute now the bartender will be offering up last call. time for all good little boys and girls to head home, but meredith doesn't know what home is any more, and she's not quite ready to call it a night.
she's caught him glancing her way more than once; quiet, diminutive. the kind of guy who'd be eaten alive in the 707, and maybe that's why she makes her way over to him. boredom, curiosity and the kind of itch under her skin that can only be scratched by a bump from one of the 22s rattling around in her purse. )
Hey there, sugar. ( perching on the stool beside him, one corner of her crimson lips pulled into a smirk, meredith doesn't wait for a response, positive or negative, before plucking the cigarette from his fingers for a drag. ) You been sitting down here all by yourself for a while now. Seemed awfully lonely to me.
a little 5, a little 9 and a lot 10?
so she goes out. finds some little dive bar where the men make perfectly polite conversation while carefully watching each little shift of her skirt.
it's late. cabs are starting to park down the street, just waiting for the drunks to start staggering out, and any minute now the bartender will be offering up last call. time for all good little boys and girls to head home, but meredith doesn't know what home is any more, and she's not quite ready to call it a night.
she's caught him glancing her way more than once; quiet, diminutive. the kind of guy who'd be eaten alive in the 707, and maybe that's why she makes her way over to him. boredom, curiosity and the kind of itch under her skin that can only be scratched by a bump from one of the 22s rattling around in her purse. )
Hey there, sugar. ( perching on the stool beside him, one corner of her crimson lips pulled into a smirk, meredith doesn't wait for a response, positive or negative, before plucking the cigarette from his fingers for a drag. ) You been sitting down here all by yourself for a while now. Seemed awfully lonely to me.