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40 Days: Not on bread alone
Sofia has more news about Zala. Lorna pays her in food. And wine.
Lorna rapped on Sofia's door with her elbow, her hands encumbered with several bags. Her nervousness at receiving Sofia's call had been rather predictably channeled into cooking so she'd brought dinner with her. At least this way she had an excuse for it other than 'my coping mechanisms require industrial ranges.' It was only polite to bring something to share when going over to someone's house. Besides that, Lorna liked Sofia.
It opened away from her, though, Sofia was not behind it; instead, she was neatly tucking the fold of a manilla envelope into it's sleeve. She smiled when she looked up and found Lorna on the other side.
"I made notes for you." Her brow creased slightly at noticing Lorna's load, and she set the papers down, coming over to assist her. "I know I've lost a little weight working here, but I think of all people in the building I'm still eating the best. You didn't have to pick up provisions."
"It's dinner, not a commentary on your eating habits," Lorna explained with a smile, allowing Sofia to take some of the things from her arms. "It's the least that I can do considering all the work you're doing for me pretty much out of the goodness of your heart. I hope you like southern French." She glanced around, admiring the clean grey and cream of the space then headed for the kitchen.
"So what's news?" she asked as she opened a bottle of burgundy to breathe.
Sofia stood in her own entrance dumbly, holding the bags she had taken and staring into the empty hallway; she wasn't entirely used to kindness, to appreciation or recognition, still. The spell broke with an almost audible crack, and she turned, following the bobbing green hair. Her door closed with little more than a backwards thought, she could hear the click harmonize with the turning on of the light in the kitchen, and Sofia placed her bags beside the ones Lorna had already put down.
"It... your sister," she said, stumbling before she tore her eyes away from Lorna's hands and to her face. "There's new information on your sister."
Lorna's hands trembled and her lips thinned, thinking about the conversation she'd had with Zala the day before. "She's very prickly. I called her." Moving out of habit, Lorna unpacked the dinner elements she'd prepared. She didn't really like assembling it too long before presentation. "Plates?"
There was a beat as Sofia's brain tried to decide which to answer first, deciding on simultaneous as she gestured to one of the cupboards. "She's in weapons, Lorna. Not in an easy, direct way, she's too smart, but black market nonetheless. It's all in the notes, the links, from dealer, to Zala, back to the dealer and their customers, sanctioned countries, usually."
Lorna stopped and stared at Sofia, one hand poised on the cupboard. "You're not serious. That's ridiculous, you said yourself that she was just a figurehead for the company. You mean that she's being set up as a front for this business?" It wasn't denial, it was just sheer shock. This didn't happen to her family. Nate's family, sure, never a greater hive of villainy than his family tree. But hers was too normal for that. All their weirdness was usual weirdness--aside from the mutant thing.
"I wouldn't be warning you to stay away from her if I wasn't," Sofia replied, folding her arms. This whole caring thing was annoying. "As I said, she's smart. She's built her life to be entirely multi-layer, the surface of course being quite legal."
Lorna fell silent as she pulled out plates and arranged the food, letting the movement distract her while she processed the information and tried to decide how to respond. "I...Sofia, I'm going out there next week to meet her. I talked to her yesterday."
"With one of your teammates, I assume," Sofia answered, her eyes following Lorna around the room. It was her attempt to be kind. "You shouldn't be going to see her at all, nevermind alone."
Silence reigned a while longer while Lorna fussed with dressing the greens. "No. Alone. But in spite of appearances, I can take care of myself." She poured a splash of wine into a glass and held it out Sofia to taste. "Tell me more about her. When you say she's in weapons...what does that mean exactly?"
The wine hung between them as Sofia stared levelly into the offerer, golden eyes carefully pulling things back and away before she dropped them, with a tight pinch of her lips and fingertips on the stem. She took a sip. "It's good. And I meant how I said it. She's the supplier's supplier."
Lorna matched Sofia's gaze for a moment but looked away first. "Let's have dinner."
"You can read the notes at home. I'm a bitch and want to see if your cooking measures up to mine," Sofia replied, her own kind of compliment and kindness in the same. "Then we can get drunk and making cutting commentary. It will be like high school."
"God, I hope it's not like high school. I had the worst hairstyle." Lorna filled Sofia's glass then handed her a plate and gestured for her to proceed to the table. She put the notes out of her mind and told herself firmly that there would be plenty of time to read them over the weekend. Right now, she might as well focus on just having a nice dinner with a friend. It wasn't like that happened very often anymore.
Lorna rapped on Sofia's door with her elbow, her hands encumbered with several bags. Her nervousness at receiving Sofia's call had been rather predictably channeled into cooking so she'd brought dinner with her. At least this way she had an excuse for it other than 'my coping mechanisms require industrial ranges.' It was only polite to bring something to share when going over to someone's house. Besides that, Lorna liked Sofia.
It opened away from her, though, Sofia was not behind it; instead, she was neatly tucking the fold of a manilla envelope into it's sleeve. She smiled when she looked up and found Lorna on the other side.
"I made notes for you." Her brow creased slightly at noticing Lorna's load, and she set the papers down, coming over to assist her. "I know I've lost a little weight working here, but I think of all people in the building I'm still eating the best. You didn't have to pick up provisions."
"It's dinner, not a commentary on your eating habits," Lorna explained with a smile, allowing Sofia to take some of the things from her arms. "It's the least that I can do considering all the work you're doing for me pretty much out of the goodness of your heart. I hope you like southern French." She glanced around, admiring the clean grey and cream of the space then headed for the kitchen.
"So what's news?" she asked as she opened a bottle of burgundy to breathe.
Sofia stood in her own entrance dumbly, holding the bags she had taken and staring into the empty hallway; she wasn't entirely used to kindness, to appreciation or recognition, still. The spell broke with an almost audible crack, and she turned, following the bobbing green hair. Her door closed with little more than a backwards thought, she could hear the click harmonize with the turning on of the light in the kitchen, and Sofia placed her bags beside the ones Lorna had already put down.
"It... your sister," she said, stumbling before she tore her eyes away from Lorna's hands and to her face. "There's new information on your sister."
Lorna's hands trembled and her lips thinned, thinking about the conversation she'd had with Zala the day before. "She's very prickly. I called her." Moving out of habit, Lorna unpacked the dinner elements she'd prepared. She didn't really like assembling it too long before presentation. "Plates?"
There was a beat as Sofia's brain tried to decide which to answer first, deciding on simultaneous as she gestured to one of the cupboards. "She's in weapons, Lorna. Not in an easy, direct way, she's too smart, but black market nonetheless. It's all in the notes, the links, from dealer, to Zala, back to the dealer and their customers, sanctioned countries, usually."
Lorna stopped and stared at Sofia, one hand poised on the cupboard. "You're not serious. That's ridiculous, you said yourself that she was just a figurehead for the company. You mean that she's being set up as a front for this business?" It wasn't denial, it was just sheer shock. This didn't happen to her family. Nate's family, sure, never a greater hive of villainy than his family tree. But hers was too normal for that. All their weirdness was usual weirdness--aside from the mutant thing.
"I wouldn't be warning you to stay away from her if I wasn't," Sofia replied, folding her arms. This whole caring thing was annoying. "As I said, she's smart. She's built her life to be entirely multi-layer, the surface of course being quite legal."
Lorna fell silent as she pulled out plates and arranged the food, letting the movement distract her while she processed the information and tried to decide how to respond. "I...Sofia, I'm going out there next week to meet her. I talked to her yesterday."
"With one of your teammates, I assume," Sofia answered, her eyes following Lorna around the room. It was her attempt to be kind. "You shouldn't be going to see her at all, nevermind alone."
Silence reigned a while longer while Lorna fussed with dressing the greens. "No. Alone. But in spite of appearances, I can take care of myself." She poured a splash of wine into a glass and held it out Sofia to taste. "Tell me more about her. When you say she's in weapons...what does that mean exactly?"
The wine hung between them as Sofia stared levelly into the offerer, golden eyes carefully pulling things back and away before she dropped them, with a tight pinch of her lips and fingertips on the stem. She took a sip. "It's good. And I meant how I said it. She's the supplier's supplier."
Lorna matched Sofia's gaze for a moment but looked away first. "Let's have dinner."
"You can read the notes at home. I'm a bitch and want to see if your cooking measures up to mine," Sofia replied, her own kind of compliment and kindness in the same. "Then we can get drunk and making cutting commentary. It will be like high school."
"God, I hope it's not like high school. I had the worst hairstyle." Lorna filled Sofia's glass then handed her a plate and gestured for her to proceed to the table. She put the notes out of her mind and told herself firmly that there would be plenty of time to read them over the weekend. Right now, she might as well focus on just having a nice dinner with a friend. It wasn't like that happened very often anymore.