!!0ZviLFh59My 03/14/12(Wed)00:11 No.18318744|
File: 1331698284.jpg-(32 KB, 462x600, 1330240072314.jpg)
"What's not getting better?" you ask automatically.
"Oh. This," Erica says, patting Trude on the head. "She's blamed herself for her sister's injury for a while, now."
"The whole year? Since the Martians invaded?"
Erica nods. "Thirteen, fourteen months of... hating herself." She shakes her head, an oddly somber gesture for Erica. "I knew she was under pressure, but..."
"Not this bad, huh?"
You sigh. "Sean was right, then," you say, and to your surprise, you feel a bit let down.
"The lust thing. Just a distraction. Me, I mean. I'm male, I'm available, I'm decent, dashing, disposable and deniable, when you come down to it." You shrug. "Ah, well..."
Erica quirks an eyebrow at you. "You don't know much about women, do you?"
You open your mouth, then close it again, then open it. "The hell you say?"
"Yeah, she was looking for a quick lay when she reeeeled you in her window during that ghost stunt crap," Erica tells you, "-but you just saved London forever and hunted down her little sister and saved her when she thought she'd lost her forever...?" Erica shakes her head. "She thought Chris was *dead* the last few days, after the rocket-bomb attacks, and she didn't lose it. Then she just goes waterworks on your shoulder and..." Erica giggles. "She's a tough dame. Always has her panties on a little too tight, you know? I think she licks the dust off the floor of her room. Like a cat. But where Chris is concerned..." she waggles her eyebrows.