Gaia hummed quietly as she rang out the last of her undies in the sink and put them in the small basket on the counter. She drained the water before carrying the basket out to the fire escape to hang things up. There was already a line of showy undergarments and a few shirts flapping in the breeze. There was something relaxing about the domestic chore of washing her clothes. Hand washing, at least. And she had enough costume pieces for work that were made for show that they needed to be hand washed.

It didn't hurt that she knew that the teenage son of the family that owned the Indian restaurant got a cheap thrill seeing her underwear hanging from the line. Contributing to the delinquincy of a minor? Me? Never! She smirked at the thought. As long as he didn't get the bright idea to go panty raiding, she didn't care if he, or his father for that matter, took a peek. That stuff was expensive.

When she was finished hanging the landry she went back inside, tossed the basket just to one side of the window and reached for her cigarettes. Just another day. Damn, when did her life get boring?