A slow grin curled Fiona's lips, something feline in the expression. The fact was, she'd been on her way out to get a sixer and some snacks for a well-earned night of virtually shooting people, and Max and Samuel had quickly become two of her favorite co-players. They played against each other often enough, but they also teamed up, and they were both really fuckin' good -- which was awesome. Playing with people who sucked put Fiona in a bad mood, and usually she'd switch teams or set them up to get taken down unless she knew them. Scores didn't matter for shit, it was the principle of the thing.
But Max had a knack for this stuff, and playing a few dozen rounds with him sounded like a great night to her.
"Sure," she said. "This sounds like a pretty good plan to me. I was just gonna run over to Trader Joe's for some beer and chocolate-covered peanut butter pretzels, you wanna --"
Fee cut herself off mid-sentence. She'd gotten off the elevator and had been walking toward Max when suddenly she noticed a door open that she hadn't even known was there. Before today, it had simply looked like a panel in the wall, nondescript and blended in. Now, however, it was swung wide, and the illuminated -- storage space? -- was revealed, and Fee's jaw had dropped. It looked huge; it might even be a room, and there were all manner of belongings in there. It didn't looked livable, it looked like somebody's insane attic from Hoarders, except for the garbage and dead cats.
"What the shit is that?" she asked Max as she turned to move closer to the discovery.