Lots of Hotdogs

April 25, 2017:

Rogue meets Fairchild and a homeless Glacier in Metropolis


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Happy as Caitlin Fairchild is in greasy coveralls with a wrench in her hand, there's still a little part of her that is a little giddy about the finer things in life. Midtown Metropolis features a Design District, one of those 'nice' parts of the city that's probably been privately owned by the same five families since the city was founded.

Fifth Avenue is the heart of the design district and Caitlin is walking around with a few dollars less than she'd prefer in her purse, window-shopping with an envious expression at some of the store displays. Fine jewelry that catches the eye, stylish haute couture dresses that are almost too avante garde to wear in public, designer purses that cost more than her car—

Caitlin sighs a little wistfully, absently tugging her purse across her stomach. It's a 'nice' one, certainly, and a gift from a friend, but it seems ratty and outdated to her eyes, particularly when compared to shiny brass buckles and hand-tooled leather on display.

Forcing herself to break her reverie, Caitlin detours across the unwritten boundary of Park Street, making a beeline for one of the hot dog vendors. Already her stomach rumbles angrily, and she steps out a bit to get across the street in a few long, lunging strides before the light changes. With the weather as fair as it is, she's dressed in jeans and a light t-shirt in pale lime with a stenciled 20-sided die on the front, and her wealth of bright reddish hair pulled back into a casual ponytail at the nape of her neck.

One of Rogue's students from last year is a 1st-year Kindergarten teacher in Metropolis now and she'd invited her favorite French teacher to come and speak to her class today. It wasn exciting thing for Anna-Marie, she'd never done anything quite like that. She'd only been a teacher for a couple of years now herself! And it had gone well, the kids had had a good time and they'd enjoyed learning a few words from the foreign country… afterall, everyone loved speaking French, it was the most beautiful language on all of Earth!

Plus, Rogue had a style about her that kids loved… for instance she was wearing a large knit-messenger-style bag that was designed specifically for her skateboard to rest at her hip inside of, and seeing a teacher with a skateboard? Come on.

Speaking of which, Rogue was skating toward the same Hotdog stand now. Class was out, and the Southern Belle had a hankering for a late lunch. Wheels on pavement, hands in her bomber jacket pockets, Rogue rolled down the sidewalk and reached the stand at the same time as Caitlin did.

"Oop. My bad…" Rogue motioned with a big and friendly smile on her red painted lips. "Its all yours." Not wanting to cut in line on the redhead.


Where does the 400-lb redhead stand in line? Anywhere she wants!

Caitlin flashes a dimpled smile at Rogue, shaking her head and making a little strand of brazen hair cling to the side of her mouth. "No, yo— Glakh," she says, gracelessly, pawing at her face. "I mean, uh, go ahead," Caitlin suggests, with a pleasantly down-home country sort of courtesy utterly foreign to New York. "I think you got here a little ahead of me anyway," she assures Anna-Marie. With a polite sort of insistence, she shuffles back a half a step to let Rogue in ahead of her in the line. She gives the messenger bag a curious look, trying to suss out the unique configuration of the straps, then brightens when she puts it all together.

"Wow, is that a carrying case for your -skateboard-?" she asks. "That is -so clever-!"
I don't know which one you mean!

Rogue looked up at the tall redhead and then down at her skateboard satchel. It was covered in patches from around the country, sports teams, clothing logos, cartoon characters… all sewn in haphazard arrangements that seemed to be foreign to anyone who didn't know. But they were actually in order of when Rogue had purchased them. She'd purchased them from every state she travelled to, sometimes multiple from each… and they were all in chronological order down the bag's sides.

"Oh, yep." She said, kicking her board up to her gloved hands she spun it around and then slipped it inside to hang against her right hip. "I use it in the summe'ah, when I don't got my heavy coat on…. My heavy coat has its own spot for the board sewn inside it." She showed a light smirk. "I'm a weirdo, trust me, I know."

Rogue huffed out a heavy exhale and then placed an order for some food. She glanced back at the redhead.

"You're tall as a Evahgreen tree, Pretty Lady. But I bet ya hear that all the damn time, huh?" She grinned at Cait. "Kinda like I hear stuff like 'Hey Skunkhair!'."

She stepped aside then with a basic chili dog and took her gloves off, tucking them into her bomber jacket side pocket.

"Tall as a — what?" Caitlin blinks at Rogue, clearly a bit surprised at the mutant's easy, languid Southern speech. It takes her a few moments to parse it and sort the accent out, and she pauses for a moment before responding.

But then Rogue's stepping away, and Caitlin is next in line, and having to place an order sufficiently derails her train of thought.

"Er, skunkhead? People call you that?" she asks, sounding a little aghast. She glances at Rogue's clear white streak in her hair, brows moving up and down in confusion. "That seems… kinda mean, doesn't it? You're not exactly Pepe le Pew," she tells the belle.

A card is handed to the vendor and Caitlin steps away with three of the famous 1/2lb brats balanced carefully in her hands, and starts inhaling one like she hasn't eaten in two days.

She's fairly polite about it, inasmuch as one can 'daintily' eat a hot dog… but she barely stops to breathe before she's got the first dog down in four big bites.

"Why do you have one for your winter coat?" Caitlin asks, confusion on her features. "It's kind of hard to skateboard when it's snowing, right?"

Rogue nodded her head at the woman's questions about her hair. "Yep." She said while dabbing at her lips with a napkin. "People call me that." She answered with a slight sigh. "People are a-holes… what can ya do. The white came out in my hair when I was a kid… I touched anothe'ah realm, I think it was the aftalife… And welll, now I can't even dye it out. The dye washes right outta my hair in a few days time."

A shrug was given to her shoulders and she took anotehr bite of her much smaller, singular, hotdog. "But, whatevs. I don't even care more. I like it now in-fact, makes me stnad out." She showed a grin to Cait then.

"And it don't snow -every- day." She added with a grin. Truth is, the board allowed Rogue to 'glide' across the ground with her flight powers, while not really raising any eyes or setting off any alarms.


"It is distinctive," Caitlin admits, but it's more out of admiration for (the bold) fashion statement Rogue's hair makes. "I love it, though, it's so…" she searches for the right word. "Eclectic? No," she says, waving the word away. "It's -neat-," she says, more firmly, smiling again. "I wish I'd thought of something like that. My hair won't even take dye," she says. "It just washes out right after it gets wet. But everyone says gingers look weird with dyed hair— I think we look weird with red hair— but y'know, I'm not a fashion maven either," she remarks, shrugging loosely at Rogue.

Clearly curious about Rogue's 'touched life', Caitlin opts for safer realms of discourse. "So you're not from the coast originally, I take it? That accent… uh… Tennessee?" she hazards.

Another hot dog vanishes in a few quick bites. omnomom.

Rogue is barely half way through hers and already thinking of not eating the rest of it. It was such a pretty day out that she was just more-so happy to be out of the 'house' today and out in the sunshiney weather.

She regarded Cait, who was a good 8 or so inches taller than her and she flashed her a big grin. "Don't evah change your hair, okay?" She said at her. "Red heads have all the true fun, an' eveveryone knows it. Looks great in the sun too, like lava." She nodded her head gently once in afirmation of her own statement.

"And I'm from Ol' Miss, originally… Till I was around fourteen? ish? Then I took out on the road on my own, fell in withthe wrong crowd… did some shitty stuff… then went totally rogue and was alone for awhile." She grinned a little. "All good now though. Got a good job and a good life. Can't complain about nothin'." She walked over to the trash bin then and discarded what she had left, then went to pull her gloves back on her hands… which might seem even more strange to Cait.

"So what do you do?" She asked, looking back to the redhead.


Snarf. Caitlin's eaten the third (totaling 1.5 lbs of brat) dog in the time it took Rogue to finish hers, pitch the wrapper, and come back to the conversation.

The taller ginger swallows the last bite hastily and with a meticulous bit of hygiene, wipes her mouth and fingers with a clean napkin and throws the wrappers aside too.

"I work for Starr Labs," she tells Rogue. "I'm a design engineer. We build all kinds of stuff. I'm working on an experimental 3D printer at the moment, actually, we're finalizing design and going into full production soon," she says, looking terribly excited.

Rogue walked over to Cait again and then slipped her gloved hands into her side pockets while listening to her describe her job. "Oh… sweet." She said back at her. "Boy, that must pay well…. I got a friend who has a pair of 3D printed glasses. Well… I mean, thats what he tells me they are. How the hell would I know if its true or not." She grinned then.

"Oh. I watched some video on the youtube that said they're workin' on a way t'print FOOD with machines like that!" Rogue grinned at the Red-one. "Is that what you're workin' on? What with how ya put down them dogs, seems like it'd be a wise career move." She grinned at the woman, making a little lighthearted teasing joke then, cause it was her style to play with others like that.

"I— well, I mean, it pays ok," Caitlin admits, pinking a little sheepishly across her high cheekbones. "Better than being an intern, anyway, I was barely making enough money to pay rent, let alone eat as much as I need to," she explains, a little self-consciously.

"Well— here, it's easier if I just show you," Caitlin says, digging in her purse for her phone. She swipes quickly across the screen, fishing for the video, and then turns the phone around so Rogue can see it. Promotional advertising, of course, and it shows a 3D fabricator humming along making things like wrenches, hammers, even some machine tool components. "It's a portable factory. In theory, you can drop one of these— well, anywhere you have a power source, and it'll build up everything you need to build factory equipment. It's for development in third world countries," she says, with unmistakeable pride, straightening up as the video ends. "It'll make it really easy for strugglign communities to build infrastructure without the expense of shipping tools in from all over the world."

Rogue was not the most engineer-savvy kinda gal, but she wasn't a dummy by any means either. She turned and leaned to watch the video and covered her eyes with her right hand to block out the sun so the screen could be more easily seen in the bright light.

"Damn." She muttered. "Thats pretty effin impressive stuff…" She leaned back then and looked up at the tall lady. At that, Rogue would flash her a big grin and extended her right gloved hand at her. "I'm Marie, by the way… I'll be investin' in your company someday, so's I can get rich on the othe'ah side off'a that wicked smart braina' yours."

Rogue would shake her head side to side then. "I have trouble puttin' togethe'ah a office chair, that has cartoon instructions tellin' me exactly what t'do. And you're like… buildin' future cities in Africa!"


Caitlin turns a furious shade of pink at the praise, giggling uncertainly at Rogue's flattery and shaking her head. "Oh gosh, no no no," she titters, stowing her phone and tugging on her ponytail with one hand in a nervous expression. "I'm not— building cities, just helping make tools."

She glances down at the handshake and puts her fingers in Rogue's hand, and squeezes carefully with both hands. "I'm Caitlin Fairchild," she tells Rogue. "It's really nice to meetcha, Marie," she remarks, before pumping Rogue's hand once and disengaging carefully. "How about you? Whatta you do for work?"

Rogue grinned at her and waved her left hand dismissively at the other. "Oh, pish posh. You're building tools that build cities, same thing!" She smirked and gripped the other's hand(s) with her own.

"I'm just a teache'ah. Not even a cool subject like History or, ugh, Math. Just a French language teachin' monkey. I've been obsessed with Paris and France, my whole life… since I was a little grasshoppe'ah. Speak it fluently, but, sadly…. Neve'ah gotten t'actually go."

Her head shook side to side then. "Someday though… someday. I had t'buy a car this time last year, so thats where all my savin's went, now I'm back to hoardin' my cash, hopin' to make that my next indulgence."

"I went to Paris once!" Caitlin exclaims, excitedly. But her face falls a moment later. "But I didn't get to see much of it. We flew in— it was an emergency— and I got knocked unconscious almost as soon as we got there. And then we had to fly right back, so I didn't exactly get to do any sightseeing," she says, wryly.

"But I can't speak ANY French," she adds, as if suddenly worried she's given Rogue the wrong impression. "I don't know any foreign languages, I just— I guess I never really bothered to learn any, because I never thought I'd -go- anywhere," she says, embarassed. "Which kinda bit me in the butt, because— y'know, I'm gonna have to start travelling more, I guess, and I can only wing it with '101 Common Phrases' for so long, y'know?"

Rogue and Caitlyn are standing near a park in a fairly busy stretch of the city. Its early afternoon and the sun is shining high in the blue sky, its a perfect day weather wise.

"Oh god… that sounds like a horrible way to experience Paris." She said back to the tall redhead that was about 8 inches higher off the ground than the Southern Belle was. "I'm glad ya made it outta there all good…" She grimaced, always hating the thought of plane crashes, she had nightmares about them, even though for the past decade she's had the ability to fly without a plane.

"I'd be up for offerin' lessons in French, but it takes a serious dedication t'learn a language. Its easiest when we're kids… thats when I learned. My mothe'ah taught me, before she died. Then my aunt kept the lessons goin', but it wasn't hard. I wanted t'learn it so I could run away from home and go there, cause my mother always said it was the greatest place on Earth." She showed a small smile then.

"Ohhh, it sounds so nice," Caitlin groans, sighing sweetly at Rogue's description. "Paris, you know? The Louvre, the Tower… uh… the… uh, arc… thingy," she says, making an arcing gesture with her hands. "Y'know, the one Napoleon walked through. Under. Built?"

She frowns, then dismisses it. "Sorry. World history's not one of my fortes," she confesses. "And yeah, all said and done, I was fine. Didn't even have a bad headache! Well, for a day or two," Caitlin admits. "But I bounce back pretty fast. Where else would you go besides France?" she asks, her thoughts darting all over the place as she gives Rogue a curious once-over. "Or is that like, you're one big 'checkmark' on the bucket list?"

Glacier slowly shuffles along the sidewalk, blending in somewhat among the crowds. Once the crowd breaks, though, she sticks out a bit, as she's the only one huddled up in a blanket, only her face visible.

The homeless woman spots the pair chatting off to the sideand wow, one of them is ridiculously talland sbe steps just a bit closer to eavesdrop.

Rogue flashed a grin at Caitlin. "The Arc de Triomphe." She told the other with a gentle pair of nods, her left hand going up to her face to sweep the white locks of hair out of her eyes that the wind has cast over them. "And the shoppin' too a'course… I'd need to bring a pretty penny with me in savin's so I could horde up on clothes." She sighed, knowing she could ramble about it for a long time, but this girl was basically a stranger, so she didn't want to be TOO weird.

"I'd like t'also go to North Korea." She then admitted to the question from Cait, then flashed a grin. "What do they call it? Pyongyang, or some such?" Her head slowly shook side to side. "I'm a mutant, by the by… I got some special mutations, that I'd just LOVE t'throw around at the military madmen that are torturin' all the poor souls ovah ther—."

Rogue's voice was cut short a bit, she glanced over at the person in the blanket. It was a bit warm for a blanket, so it just sort've caught her attention.

Glacier blinks rapidly and stiffens up as Rogue spots her. One could almost imagine a big, red exclaimation point appearing over her head. She turns her body slightly and stares off, pretending like she was never paying them any mind. Nope, completely innocent. On closer inspection, though, she's wearing -two- blankets, each with a different, clashing pattern.
You paged Fairchild with 'Oh dear, doesn't take turns.'

Caitlin is a Bit Oblivious. The big redhead cheerily chats up Rogue, listening to her words as she's corrected and basically captivated by Marie's slightly elevated sense of worldliness.

Particularly when the 'M' word gets dropped. Caitlin's green eyes get round as saucers. "Ohmygosh! You're a metahuman?" she squeals, barely managing to squelch her voice as it rises in surprise. "That's— oh so cool! I don't know a lot of actual mutants, I mostly just know metas, and aliens, and meta/aliens, and I -think- I know one guy who's just a really scary dude in a suit, but mostly yeah, metahumans."

"Oh, er, sorry, I'm a meta too," Caitlin clarifies, hurridly. "I'm on the Justice League," she explains. "We were just talking about the North Korea situation the other day, and it sorta lands on the International Abuse of Metapowers act, which is a really FASCINATING look at how—"

She realizes Rogue's looking pointedly at Glacier, and turns to give the homeless woman a curiouis once over.

"Hello? Do I know you?" she asks, with sincere politeness.

"Justice League?" Rogue asks, looking back at Cait and doing that little tongue-behind-the-teeth whistle noise. "Damn… Guess you're as tough as ya look, huh?" She flashed Cait a big grin. "If ya'll are gonna go ovah there an' smash some skulls… Let me give ya my card. Not many skulls can get smashed, quite the way I can do it."

But she did look back toward the woman with TWO blankets on her, it reminded the southern belle of her own time on the road. She'd bundle up in clothes like that too, but mostly cause'a her mutation and how dangerous it was not to be covered up.

"You hungry?" She asked, motioning to the hotdog stand not far away. "I'll buy ya whateve'ah ya want." She said to Glacier.

Glacier slowly cranes her neck to look back at the two. She's tall, at five-ten, but she's a runt compared to Caitlin! "Wh-…M-Mutants?" she mutters, voice quiet and wispy. Her breath comes out in frigid clouds. She looks back to Rogue as she mentions food and quickly nods her head. "Th-That'd—I'd appreciate it, y-yeah."

"No, she mutant. Me just ginger," Caitlin tells Glacier, flashing a reassuringly self-deprecating smile and gesturing back and forth from her to Rogue. Seemingly sensing Glacier's reticence, the big redhead eases a little bit backwards and hunches unconsciously as if trying to reduce the height differential. It doesn't amount to much, but at least it's just head-and-shoulders, not head-and-shoulders-and-soapbox taller than the other two women.

"I'm -pretty- tough," Caitlin agrees with Rogue, modestly. "At least enough the League hasn't fired me yet! If you haven't checked us out, you should," she suggests to the bohemian belle. "I think they're a great team, and with some great people on board."

Rogue went to the hotdog stand while the other two talked a bit and she ordered a couple of basic hotdogs with the usual toppings and she got two bottled waters as well.

She was grinning at Caitlin as she returned. "Glad t'hear that… Buildin' cities and fightin' evil in the League… my word, how do ya find enough hours in the day?" She grinned, then regarded Glacier and offered her the food and water, motioning to a set of metal chairs around a table just beside them. "Sit and eat, get yourself feelin' bette'ah, sweetheart." She told Glacier. "Anything else ya need?" She offered before glancing back to Cait.

"Carol Danvers is in the League, ain't she?" She asked then.

Glacier | Maya does as she's told, shuffling into the chair, and slowly chilling the metal. She takes the offered hot dog and starts hungrily gnawing on it. The hotdog begins cooling down, as well, to what would generally be considered inedible levels. Yet she seems fine with it.

"Ohgoshyes!" Caitlin says, excitedly. "Carol's like, one of my best friends, we hang out like ALL the time," she gushes, with shiny-eyed hero worship. She brings her phone up and flicks a few pictures left and right, then shows Rogue several photos of Caitlin mugging for the camera with a leggy blonde a few years her senior, usually at the end of a long-armed Caitlin selfie.

She watches as the strange homeless woman starts digging hungrily into the 'dog, curiousity on her features. She might not have Rogue's history to inform her empathy— but Caitlin recognizes earnest hunger anywhere. "Hey… could I get a few more of those 'brats?" she inquires of the vendor, slipping him her credit card. She retrieves four more… and sets two down near Maya, in arms' reach of the woman, and flashes a smile at the girl.

"So hungry," Caitlin mumbles, unwrapping another dog and digging into it like she hadn't /just/ eaten most of two pounds of pork not five minutes prior.

Rogue looked at the pictures and smiled softly at them, nodding her head. "Thats her, yep." She said. "She and I have a… rough history. I'd recommend not botherin' t'mention my name to her." Carol and she had gotten past old events, but Rogue's guilt toward it still made her feel as though Carol absolutely despised her, and she did everything she could to hide from her because of that guilt.

Rogue glanced at the homeless gal as she scarfed down those hotdogs and noted Cait going for more. "Gosh, you two… ya'll are gonna make this city run outta beef." She teased, her hands inside her coat pockets.

"I should probably be headed back though. I gotta catch a ride back to Westcheste'ah."

"O-oh," Caitlin says, looking a bit crestfallen, then promptly abashed as she realizes she's utterly misread Rogue's trepidation. She hastily puts her phone away, unable to hide a wince at the realization she's likely just shot herself in the foot with recruiting the southern belle to the League.

"I guess I should get home, too," Caitlin agrees with a sigh, waving generally towards Metropolis. "Listen, though— swing by the League sometime, huh?" she offers. "Say hi, pop in, we don't even have to stay there, we can go hang out," she offers with a flashing, brilliant smile. "And I'm on Facebook and Instagram, you can find me and DM me there." Ahh, the Digital Generation. "Caitlin Fairchild, two 'i's in Caitlin," she explains. "Seeya around, Marie?"

Rogue pulled her skateboard out of its satchel on her hip and she flashed a grin at Caitlin. "I definitely will. I've nevah been there before… I'd like t'see the place where ya'll do your thang." She dropped the board on the ground and put one foot up on it.

"It was a hoot t'meet ya, Caitycat. Keep rockin' them brats, okay?" She raised her right gloved hand at the woman and wiggled her covered fingers, then stood up on her board and started off toward the cross-walk to the other side of the street… it was a long trek back to Westchester, but once she was out of the city she'd hit the skies and fly the rest of the way to Breakstone Lake.

Glacier pauses chewing and glances down at the two other hot dogs. Her gaze flits up to the taller woman briefly, then she holds her free hand out to the two hot dogs and rapidly freezes them. She scarfs down the rest of her unfrozen (but still cold) hot dog, then grabs the other two and hides them in her blanket.

Caitlin turns back from bidding Rogue farewell in time to see Glacier seizing the foodstuffs, and her brow goes up just a little at the hoarding behaviour. The big ginger had never met a meal she could walk away from, but it's fairly obvious Glacier's spreading her meals out as pragmatically as possible.

"So, uh… d'you live around here?" Caitlin asks Glacier, struggling a bit to engage with the woman. It's clear Caitlin's a bit on the awkward side socially, and unsure of how to engage with Glacier, even in the wake of Rogue's relative social graces.

Glacier starts to get to her feet (bare, if anyone cared to look) but pauses briefly as Caitlin addresses her. "Ah…I-I…move around," she mumbles before stretching to her full height. "Thank you for th-the hot dogs, too." She smiles weakly, but it disappears as quickly as it comes.

"Ah," Caitlin remarks, sympathy writ large on her honest, heart-shaped face. "I've… well. I've had some lousy living accomodations," she tells the girl, struggling to find a commonality in ground between them. "This place in Gotham I rented, with like… five other people, and we got broken into -twice- in one month. It was awful," she says. "So, y'know, there's something to be said for, uh… being mobile," she says, turning bright pink when she realizes how insensitive her attempt probably is.

Maya turns to face Caitlyn square, though looks away bashfully. "Well…y-you seem like you, uh, got out of it a lot better than I'm…doing." She shuffles for a moment on her feet. "I mean, you're…uh, w-…well-fed." There's an audible hesitance in her voice. She's certainly not trying to call her fat, but she's never been particularly good at conversation.

"Well… I mean, I had some good friends, helping me," Caitlin acknowledges, shrugging a bit shyly. "I started helping people however I could. Sometimes it was little stuff, like… dealing with a mugger or just helping people move things that were in the way. Lots of broken down cars," she smiles, pulling some hair from her face.

"Then I teamed up with a few heroes a few times, and… I don't know. Things kind of snowballed. I got offered a job and it just kept getting better from there, y'know?" she says, fretting her lower lip.

"But it all started with me trying to help others. Maybe you can find a way to do the same?"

Glacier glances away and chews on her lower lip for a moment. "M-…Maybe. I mean, I, uh…y-you know, try a few things here a-and there…" She clears her throat again before speaking again. "What w-…um…" She lets a chilly breath out her nose, gaze dropping to her feet. "I…uh, d-don't know how to…phrase this, but…uh, h-…I mean, while y-you were…poor…f-food was…hard to come by, right? How…" She hesitates again, then "How skinny w-were you?"

"Uhh… let's see… I -was- a size twelve?" Caitlin hems, trying to think. She screws up her button nose in thought. "But I'm impossible to fit for clothes anyway," she says, shrugging her shoulders at Glacier. "I know I was a couple inches shorter and I had smaller arms, so I'unno, I wasn't -petite-, not like Marie," she says, waving vaguely at the belle's path of departuer. "But once I started eating right and exercising, I guess I grew up and out a bit?"

Maya rapidly nods, then stutters out a quick "I-I'm sorry, that's…uh, I sh-shouldn't have asked such a…um, personal question." She clears her throat for a third time, then continues. "I just…ah, well, I-I've been eating…-better- lately, but I'm…still…small." She lowers her gaze downward again.

"No no, it's ok," Caitlin says, hastily. "I don't mind. No one's really asked me that before, actually," she admits, blinking. "I guess all my friends watched me over the last year. But it did take a lot of time and work— I mean, I eat twenty-thousand calories a day to maintain body mass and work out," she explains. "I have to eat almost all the time. You probably would start, y'know, filling out if you just… got some more hot meals."

"Listen, um… I have to get going," Caitlin tells Maya, straightening up a little. "I… I've got a little cash on me," she offers, fumbling in her purse. "It's not charity, just… y'know. Something to help a little," she offers shyly, extending a pair of $20s to Maya.

Maya doesn't hesitate to snatch up the fourty bucks. She nods quickly to Caitlyn as she stows the money in her blankets. "Right, uh, w-…well, thank you. I appreciatexjt." She nods, then offers her name. "I'm…uh, M-Maya. I, uh, can't guarantee we'll meet again, but…I-I hope we do. You're…nice." She smiles again, this one lasting a bit longer.

"I'm Caitlin Fairchild," Cait says, flashing another dimpled, sincere smile at the woman. "I hope we meet again, too. I'll keep an eye out for you, Maya. Take care of yourself, okay?" she inquires. With a short, cheery wave, Caitlin returns Maya's smile, then turns and heads back towards uptown Metropolis.


Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License