With no reason to doubt Xian's word, Elektra took that at face value. the reminder that the other woman could fly was not an unwelcome one. It almost beat out the reminder of everything else she could do.
Not that Elektra was in any danger of forgetting. Or forgiving. Grudges kept her youthful.
Coffee didn't hurt, either.
Elektra boosted herself off the island and strolled past Xian to the espresso machine. "Back in New York, there's a coffeeshop on every block. A lot of dead birds, too," she added snidely. The machine called for ground beans, introducing another step to the equation. Elektra didn't let on that she wasn't sure which setting to use on the grinder; bluffing her way through uncertainty was the only way to succeed. Although it did explain why, after the grinder had done its work and the espresso machine had gurgled and groaned, and a tiny cup of foamy espresso sat on the metal tray, the resulting concoction looked distinctly... watery.
"I always wanted to be a barista," Elektra crowed and handed Xian the cup. "Tell me how amazing I would've been."