Because Fiona had the same apartment as Karin, just two floors up, the stairwell she'd taken to the first floor conveniently let out just as close to her sister's place. The hours Fiona kept had her just coming into full energy around this time. Her television had been on, muted, with Tarsem Singh's The Fall playing on it, her computer speakers playing "A Kiss with a Fist" at what was probably edging on an unreasonable volume, and she'd been at her third-hand drafting table, doodling something that might have come to something else when the room descended into silence and darkness.
Of course, this was followed shortly by expletives and Fee stubbing her toe violently on said drafting table.
Finding her shoes was a bitch, and even though they were ruby-sequined ballet flats they still hurt her toe, but they were the first pair she found, and, she noted, they added something she liked to her black leggings and oversized, off-the-shoulder grey top. They were what she would have chosen anyway, since the bra strap the shirt prominently displayed was bright red and so the large, fake gems in her stud earrings. So in a way, it was serendipitous.
But her toe still hurt like a bitch.
This temporary setback, however, was soon forgotten when the concierge's arrival with his Christamighty mini-white-dwarf flashlight allowed her to grab her coffee and her bag (wallet, cigarettes, lighter, keys - the necessary elements for most successful ventures), which had let her finally get downstairs.
She grinned when she saw her sister's silhouette walking toward the lobby, and padded quickly and quietly behind her until they were almost at the lobby, at which point she grabbed her sides and exclaimed,
"BAM!"
Which Fee thought was a lot more scary to hear out of nowhere than "Boo."