Fiona had changed at work three times. The first time she'd put her jeans and top back on, before deciding that wasn't pretty enough. Not that it was a date, of course it wasn't. The skirt suit had gone back on before deciding that was too old lady. So finally she'd just combined the damn clothes, muttering not to be such a girl about lunch of all things. Finally she began the walk home from Arthur's office in blue jeans, black heels, and the dark purple peasant blouse she'd sported under her suit jacket. She suddenly wished she had lip stick or a brush to make her pony tail a bit more in place, but then she remembered something rather wonderful.
Her brothers hardly noticed if she cut half her hair off. Her brothers were boys. Brendan was a boy. He would not notice, not the way Grace would have.
And so her nerves calmed slightly as she ignored the gossamer spirit flitting by her on the street, staunchly refusing to get off track as she turned the corner onto the street her apartment sat. Anxiety was rising steadily as her hands clenched and she felt herself sweat more than usual. But finally Fiona opened the door, the smell hitting her first. "Brendan?" she called from the door, Bruce barking from the hall.