![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nookiepoweredOkay, so Bo had planned to sneak out to J,GoB early, to surprise Kenzi with doughnuts and coffee like the world's best roommate who occasionally knocked holes in the walls when entertaining a certain sort of guest. Then she'd got to the counter and discovered that when sneaking out to buy doughnuts, it helps to sneak into the pants that actually have your wallet in them.
Problem? No problem. She'd spent years living off I'm a little short, can I pay you later backed up by a soft touch of fingers or lips. She didn't even have to feel (very) guilty about it these days, since she really did intend to reimburse the new kid behind the till. With actual money, not just the supernatural pleasure of being drawn across the counter by his collar and smooched by a succubus.
Or...not? Because there was a smooch, and he didn't seem to hate it, but... nada. No dazed, goofy compliance, no temporarily free baker's dozen, and, slightly more worrying, no juice. No warmth, no energy, no life force, no...nothing. "The hell?"
New kid didn't have an answer for that. Just a polite, somewhat apologetic smile and an outstretched hand for the $13.99 plus tax that Bo currently didn't have.
She did, on inspection of every pocket and a couple other wardrobe areas less specifically designed to hold currency, find a rather wrinkled five. That at least bought her the coffee and bearclaw she was currently picking at while she sat by the window and listened to Kenzi's cell number as it rang and rang and rang.
"The hell?"
[Open for fellow matrix-dwellers, coffee swillers, and pastry-needers.]
Problem? No problem. She'd spent years living off I'm a little short, can I pay you later backed up by a soft touch of fingers or lips. She didn't even have to feel (very) guilty about it these days, since she really did intend to reimburse the new kid behind the till. With actual money, not just the supernatural pleasure of being drawn across the counter by his collar and smooched by a succubus.
Or...not? Because there was a smooch, and he didn't seem to hate it, but... nada. No dazed, goofy compliance, no temporarily free baker's dozen, and, slightly more worrying, no juice. No warmth, no energy, no life force, no...nothing. "The hell?"
New kid didn't have an answer for that. Just a polite, somewhat apologetic smile and an outstretched hand for the $13.99 plus tax that Bo currently didn't have.
She did, on inspection of every pocket and a couple other wardrobe areas less specifically designed to hold currency, find a rather wrinkled five. That at least bought her the coffee and bearclaw she was currently picking at while she sat by the window and listened to Kenzi's cell number as it rang and rang and rang.
"The hell?"
[Open for fellow matrix-dwellers, coffee swillers, and pastry-needers.]
