As if his rising nerves called to some bitchy goddess of fate, there was movement - fast, energetic movement - around the curve of the current stairwell. From above, a curvy little lady came bounding down the steps, two at a time, dark hair fluttering behind her in the rush. Hands awkwardly juggling a purse and a soft duffel bag, her head was tipped downward to watch her feet.
A collision was inevitable, really.
With a very decided "eep," the young woman hit Shae's chest, sending him into an instinctual braced mode with one hand grabbing at the railing, and rebounded to land on the stairs without a shred of grace. Her purse and bag hit soon after her and slid down a few steps. She stared up at him in confusion, big dark eyes blinking.