Re: Fashion District: Clementine & Holly
[Holly clocked the knowing all over Clementine's face as the saleswoman left for the name that had been wrapped up in ribbons for a Christmas present. And yeah, okay, she wasn't dumb. No one handed out blankets in the East End for poor people without a flash-mob of photographers to capture them doing it and a press-statement the following day. No one gave things away to Gotham street-rats no matter how friendly they got and she figured Clementine thought it was all about fucking, no matter what. Mr. Wayne was fucking slinky Selina and maybe it was about fucking, because she didn't think he'd do it if he wasn't. She'd been his son's friend, but that hadn't been long at all.
Clem sagged back in her chair and maybe Holly grinned just a little at that groan and she smoothed the stretchy neon over one hip with a critical tug in the mirror.] I do.
[She said it quiet but the rush of the woman coming into the room lost that admission in amongst the flurry of reassurances that no, she was definitely expected, in fact, they'd been anticipating her visit, and had looked out some clothes in advance. She got the impression Mr. Wayne's decision to set her up with a shopping experience didn't do anything for the owner at all, but her curiosity had been tucked into her cheek, like an expensive sweet to suck on and she didn't ask anything once.
But she swung around the second the woman ushered herself out of the room to fetch all those clothes and stared at Clem, round blue eyes and shock. Crying during blow-jobs was one thing - she'd seen really drunk, okay? Crying wasn't beyond belief - but Bats?]
You and Mr. Wayne? You and he are... [Holly mimed vigorously and stopped the second the rattle of clothes signaled the return of the sales staff.]