fandomtownies | The York Gallery; Sunday [ 02/15 ].

The best way for Charlotte to try to cope with anything and everything was to just throw herself into some work, which meant that she was finally getting the Larson exhibit packed up and shipped out to replace it with something else next week. It was a pretty involved process for this specific exhibit, what with that giant contraption as the centerpiece, so the whole things was pretty involved and maybe a little chaotic, which made it perfect to get Charlotte involved and distracted.

It also made it perfect for sneaky little creatures known to bite to sneak into the gallery under the guise of chaos and many opened doors, unbeknown to Charlotte until the whole thing was clear and she sat for a moment at the desk. The biting feeling on her ankle came as a surprise, and she winced. "Ow," she said, leaning down to gingerly rub it as the gremlin scurried out of the way...

...and by the time Samantha had sat back up, she was feeling a little bit confused, especially when she glanced at the clock. "Well, fuck," she said, "it's seven o'clock, what the hell am I still doing here? And what the hell am I wearing?"

She had some serious work to do and some serious time to make up for, so she wasn't going to waste another valued minute sitting there.

[[ brought to you by the king of enablers,

pieandcoffee; gallery's open if you want to catch Charlotte pre-bite, or on her post-bite way out completely thinking she's actually Samantha Jones ]]

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"Charlotte?" Dale called out as he came down the stairs from the apartment ~~post-bite mwah-ha-ha~~. "Did we say we were going to discontinue Elizabeth Taylor's current lamb and rice kibble and move on to the turkey rice or the other way around?"

[ooc:*demands crown*]

Samantha was pretty sure she was going to leave without asking any questions, but this sort of put a stop in things. "Honey," she said, "I know she's getting old, but I think someone like Elizabeth Taylor deserves a little more respect than kibble. Besides, I'd practically give my left breast for a client like that."

And then she tilted her head, realizing that this man looked familiar, and not in the vague underling you see but never think about kind of way.

"Do I know you from somewhere?"

Maybe it was the vague person you had sex with but kind of forgot about kind of way.

"Well first of all Ms. Taylor is just a pup," Dale said looking confused, " and furthermore I should think you would recognize me. Are you feeling all right?"

Definitely looked familiar. Sam tilted her head a bit, trying to figure it out, but a face was pretty much a face after a while.

"I'll be fine," she said, "once I get out of here and get myself a drink."

Dale frowned.

"Are you sure? If you're having problems with your memory maybe we should take you to the clinic for a quick check up."

Sam snorted a laugh. "Trust me," she said. "it's not a problem with my memory. As for your Liz Taylor problem, maybe you should just stick with what works. That's what I plan on doing."

Which meant going and getting good and drunk.

"Oh. Okay," Dale said frowning a bit more. "Well, if you insist you're fine then... um. Have fun. I guess."

"I'd better," Sam decided with a snort, because she was not going to be happy if she ended up just wasting her time tonight.

Which did inspire her to stop when she was at the door, just before going out of it, to stop and look back toward the guy, look him over a little, and add, "But you should feel welcome to come join me later, if you find you've got nothing better to do."

"I may take you up on that," Dale said watching Charlotte carefully. Something was definitely off about her. "Promise me you'll be careful?"

Samantha couldn't understand why this guy would even care, and her expression showed as much before she said, "Well, of course," before stepping out.

The York Gallery; Sunday [ 02/15 ].

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