Low Tide

An eighteen-wheeler barreled along the dark, Florida highway. On its way by, the driver honked twice at two women standing on the edge of a heat-cracked parking lot spotted with oil puddles. Locks of long, brown hair lifted off the brunette's neck in the wake of the truck. She smoked her third cigarette since taking off on the miniature road trip. She hadn't so much fallen off the wagon as been dragged off by the prospect of an hour in the redhead's company. Southern Florida was lucky she wasn't nursing a bottle of hard liquor while she drove.

So much for new car smell.

Rhiannon scraped her boot on the pavement, trying to free a pebble that was stuck in the tread. "Before you ask, no, we're not here for guns." It would've been a fair question, since she had pulled the black car alongside Big Al's Army Navy Surplus. "But you do need something they've got, and you're not gonna find it in the Red Chandelier Boutique."

( Plain, Non-label Cotton )

Note: this takes place before the events of 'hunger pangs'

It wasn’t often that Jenny got time off work, her hours were hectic, her free time was spent sleeping or catching up on the important things she had missed. She didn’t get much of a chance to just go out and do things that interested her, particularly since at the moment her brother was crashing down at her place and she needed to get some time away.

Granted, standing in a large bookstore, perusing the medical section and looking at other text books. Her finger ran along the spines of books like Med School Confidential and Current Medical Diagnosis and Treatment 2010. It went from the technical books that would make her spin to Medical Terminology for Dummies which she picked up and opened, flicking through idly to see what was inside. She had never read any of the ‘for dummies’ books before.
( fancy meeting you here. )