Emma's Flat, Bed-Stuy, Brooklyn. Monday Afternoon.

[icecoldfrost]

The wonderful thing about currently being a few weeks ahead of Fandom - in Emma's opinion - is that she had spring. Almost. For her, it was early March and her spring break, and the sun was out in New York. It also meant that Jack could leave his shift at Devil's Nest on his Monday night, and still show up in her world at a reasonable hour.

Her little flat was as tidy as a telepath on a binge Spring Cleaning Spree could manage (which was scary), and Emma was happily ensconced in her laptop, working away at her big psych paper for the term. Early. Because someone was an overachiever.

[OOC: Open for calls, texts, and That Boy.]

Comments

[icecoldfrost]

"I do believe the financial forecast is in your favor this week," Emma replied. "In fact, it may move in your favor multiple times."

Diiiiiiiiiiiiirty.

[bitten_notshy]

"As I am the servant of the market, that would only please me," Jack said, dignified. "I work for it, and it works for me."

[icecoldfrost]

Emma just snickered. "You're a terrible boy," she informed him. "I didn't think a lawyer would care about such things."

[bitten_notshy]

Jack snickered back, then examined Emma thoughtfully.

"We should finish eating," he said, and stuck his chopsticks into his noodles with renewed vigor.

[icecoldfrost]

"I mean, are we sure a lawyer working in the interests of the market is entirely ethical?" she teased around bites of her chicken. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

[bitten_notshy]

Jack smiled half a smile. "Plenty of lawyers work for large banks," he said. "It's just a matter of everyone being clear where your loyalties lie."