Re: Log: Joey / Maggie
Yeah, Maggie knew dismissal like an old friend, it sidled up sideways and said a long, strong hello like an alcoholic sitting down at the bar for just one more. She put a finger to the bridge of the sunglasses, settled them in the dry-sea-slick of blond hair and eyed Joey down like he was dust on boots. "Yeah," she said back as evenly, big sister carving out a space in a family of nomads, dog with a bone.
She didn't look for dish soap and she didn't give a sweet goddamn about the sheets. She'd got used to walking around as dirty as she went to bed and they all smelled so bad nobody was making any complaints. If it got really bad, she could walk around bare-assed. She put palms flat to the counter-top and hitched herself up in a clean movement that said upper body strength clearer than she could go ahead and spit it out herself, as her heels knocked against the cabinet.
"I'm not. You ever met a drug dealer who liked leaving evidence?" One eyebrow cocked up over glass-pale blue eyes that scrutinized his movements like watching someone trying to tip a cow; interesting, strange, in no immediate need of altering the course of action. Maggie's eyes were remarkable. Her ex, when feeling charitable, had said they were nicer than her ass. After he was done sleeping on the couch for a week, she'd taken the compliment to heart.