[hr][hr][center][h1][color=ff6600]Chloe "Tuesday" Ridgeway[/color][/h1][img]http://24.media.tumblr.com/1071c7c1d1975d9a3faaf314d9b849cd/tumblr_mk4fyrIasg1r5va4eo1_500.gif[/img][hr]Location: Haunted House[/center][hr][hr]As Tuesday frantically attempted to tend to Marc, the FBI agent quiet as she searched for the wound, her mind briefly drifted back to her decision to return to Grimm. She had come back to face her former life, to spit on the remains of Chloe Ridgeway, and prove that she was a new person, reborn as a drug addicted criminal. In the world Tuesday had thrusted herself into, credibility was everything--and this, this was her letting go of the past. 

[color=ff6600]"What the fuck?"[/color] Tuesday muttered, unable to find the wound. Fingers wrapped around her own, and her first instinct was that it was one of the props from the haunted house. But glancing at Marc, she realized the man wasn't injured at all. The FBI agent moved. The bullet had hit his [i]fucking vest.[/i] She huffed slightly, knowing that if Marc hadn't looked injured, Riley wouldn't have had to shoot Chris. She could have dealt with him instead, Tuesday felt. Her hands were already soiled--Riley's didn't have to be. 

[color=ff6600]"Oh, fuck you Tinder,"[/color] Tuesday grumbled, hugging him back. Of course it had been oil. She jumped slightly as the haunted house continued on with its normal motions, and Marc arose, heading over towards her sister. Fortunately, Riley didn't seem to want to go on a murder spree, releasing the gun from her grip. Her sister smiled at her, and Tuesday smiled back, feeling ever the more relieved as the lights turned on, and the creepy fair attraction ceased operating. 

As Tim came running in, Tuesday didn't fall on her usual brand of sarcasm. Tim was about as useful as a bimbo on Jeopardy, coming in after the firefight had finished. Both Marc and Riley pulled at her hand, and Tuesday took Riley's hand back. [color=ff6600]"Sorry, hun. Sisters before misters."[/color] Winking slightly, Tuesday pulled on her sister to get her to leave. She didn't need to have any lasting trauma from killing the asshat. 

Nodding at Riley's affirmation, Tuesday set her eyes forward. [color=ff6600]"You can say that again. Instead of coming home for Christmas, let's go to Vegas,"[/color] she suggested, with a wry grin. They may have been about to leave Grim, to leave their childhood home, but Tuesday felt untethered. For a mere moment, she realized that Los Angeles was the closest thing to a home she ever had. 

And she couldn't wait to go back.