"S'cuse me, comin' through...get outta my way!", shouted the young purple-haired woman. Ignoring the angry and suprised looks she got, she pushed through the rain-soaked crowd and into the rundown tavern. "whoever 'es got dis time be'er be worth all ov dis,"she muttered darkly.
"I guarentee he is, my dear Magpie," said a smooth, low voice from behind her.
Unsuprised, Magpie turned and looked up at the tall, deathly pale man looming over her.
"'Ello Mr. Romailn .Can' say i'm to 'appy ta see you, especially in dis weather. Then again, i'm never 'appy ta see you."
"A fact that I think of as ironic, looking at all the times we have worked together," he replied, not a bit put off by her rudeness."May I get you a drink?"
"Whatever's strongest. An' 'urry i' up,"she said, sitting in a dark booth away from prying eyes and ears.