[B][h2][center]Paige Kennedy[/center][/h2][/b]

There was a wash basin in the corner of the shop and Paige went over to clean up the best she could as he spoke. She tossed the spent pair of rubber gloves the first aid kit offered with a trick shot off the wall into a far waste bin. Though her hands were clean her sleeves were stained with a combination of Milo's blood and alcohol. A few drops had also made it to her jeans. Both would would be a write off. In spite of it all though, she was beaming inside and a triumphant smile was creeping across her face as the warm water ran over her forearms. Two in a day was unheard of. Like a four minute mile. Bob had been a case of old fashioned police-work while Jackie was almost a matter of luck. She hadn't even been looking for him until chance brought Milo's revolver into her hands. The man had been very good at his craft, but like any old time criminal, [i]real outlaws[/i], would tell you, greed would get you locked up or killed quicker than a bullet.

Her stomach groaned slightly at the mention of food as she dried her hands. Pulling her phone out of her back pocket she quickly swiped away a few notifications to look into Milo's suggestion. "I think that silliness is over now," She said referring to the race. "Traffic is still gonna suck though." Her eyes scanned over the red and yellow highlighted lines of the traffic grid then scrolled down to the reviews of the restaurant itself. She knew nothing about the local fare. With the exception of her golf outing, she'd hardly done anything other than work since landing in Sol. "Looks pretty swanky," She said. She glanced at herself in a polished mirror that Milo used for some part of his work and cringed. Her hair had fallen away considerably from its regular tie and her face had some kind of smudge from scratching at an itch while working on his arm. Then there was the coppery scent of blood mixed with alcohol and the rough, burnt smell of metal that permeated everything in his shop and clung to her clothes. "God, I look like hell."

Looking back over at Milo, it really appeared that there'd been a heavy burden lifted off him. He wasn't spun up and tense like he'd been at the Winter Party and he wasn't mired in self loathing like she'd found him on Wednesday. He didn't have to thank her for doing her job, but turning his offer down felt in poor taste after what they'd just accomplished and she was in too good of a mood to refuse a free dinner, particularly an expensive one. "Well, if you don't mind waiting," She said running a hand through her hair. It already felt smoky and greasy and she loathed having to wash it again to look presentable. "Just run me back up to the parking garage. I'm gonna have John Dillinger's car here towed away so I can play with it later."

[@RoccanIronclad]