all I am is a body floating downwind

[selfmadman]

Who: Don and Kalinda
What: A promise kept.
Where: A rooftop (kind of) bar, Canker Wedge.
When: St. Fuck-this-holiday-I'm-going-drinking
Warnings: Help I can't think of anything flippant.

On this block in Canker Wedge, in a gap between buildings so slight the wind holds its breath to squeeze through, stairs rise from nowhere. A glowing railing corkscrews into the sky in a silver strand. The first step clangs metallic underfoot; as Don sets his hand on the railing its light fades then begins to pulsate. The climb isn't as steep, doesn't last as long as it should. It feels like flipping forward in a book.

At the top is a star-flecked night blanketing a distant city. For a while he drinks in the view; for a while it offers the same soothing burn as a glass of whiskey. Then he makes his way between the two long counters reaching for the bar. Heat blooms in unexpected pockets along the way: it's warmer up here than it is inside.

He orders a drink and as he waits realizes there's no music playing.

Comments

[betterthansubpoenas]

Self-satisfied, she smiles at the way Don falls into line. There's a lot about him that she appreciates. Some of it she can articulate, and some she can't. She sweeps a look down the length of the street in either direction as if she might see something that will decide for her where they should head from here.

"How about your place?" she asks smoothly, not even turning to face him until after the words have left her lips. The look she gives him is politely inquisitive, but appraising at the same time. Then again, there's always a sense about Kalinda Sharma that suggests she's filing away every move he makes, assessing and judging - though not maliciously - as they go along.

[selfmadman]

The breath that escapes him isn't a laugh: too soft, too contained. "It's not exactly around the corner." He peers at her, pictures their knees knocking together in a hansom. A level amusement in his eyes.

He hasn't said no.

[betterthansubpoenas]

"You chose the bar," Kalinda chides with a grin in her tone rather than on her face. "Unless you have an alternative in mind..." Which doesn't necessarily rule out her own home, but she won't be the one to suggest it. Likely for the same drawback associated with his place. "Ball's in your court."

Somewhere, she hopes Will Gardner is smiling, and with no idea why.