This building smells like donuts.

She inhaled deeply. "It smells good."

"Yes, and just look at the view!" The agent said enthusiastically, gesturing at the window.

Birds! I see birds!

She shook her head to dispel the odd thoughts, and scratched vigorously behind one ear. "Utilities are included?"

"Yes, and free cable," the agent replied.

She frowned thoughtfully, mentally running through her finances. New job, new city… "I'll take it," she said firmly.

"Excellent!" said the agent, and whipped a lease out of the folder she carried. "Now, if you adopt a dog or cat, there is a seventy-five dollar pet fee payable each month with the rent."

"That's fine. I'm allergic to most animals anyway." She signed the lease, and smiled.

That was easy.

"Top floor," she grumbled, climbing the stairs. "Why must I live on the top floor?" She stopped on the third floor to remove her heels, and made the rest of the climb barefoot.

At the top of the stairs, she rummaged in her purse for her keys. The swinging, shining shapes were fascinating. She shook them several times, admiring the movement and sound. They were fascinating.

Enough of that. She shook her head firmly, and unlocked the door.

A pigeon was on the windowsill. "Shoo," she told it, going into the tiny kitchen space. It didn't move, but it probably couldn't hear her; it was outside.

"Go away!" She rapped on the window. The pigeon stayed put.

She puttered around the apartment, unpacking a few boxes and eating bread. "I should go to the grocery store," she said aloud. "I'm out of cheese."

There was a knock on the door. Cramming the rest of the bread in her mouth, she went to answer it. The pigeon fluttered away.

It was a tall, friendly-looking African American guy. "Hey. Your air on?"

"I hadn't noticed one way or the other," she said around her mouthful of bread. Dammit, he was cute, too. Why are you eating bread, Em? Get it together.

"Well, ours it out. We think the power's been cut off," he said bitterly. "Terrible wiring in this building, plus we've got mice."

"Thanks for the heads up," she said, swallowing the lump of dough that had accumulated in her mouth and immediately regretting it. She stuck out her hand. "I'm Emily Clements."

"Sam Wilson," he replied. His handshake was firm. "You're new here."

"Yeah. I just moved in on Saturday."

"Are you new to D.C., too?"

"I just got a new job," she said vaguely. "So—yes."

"Where do you work?"

"A top-secret government agency," she said seriously.

Sam laughed. "Yeah, me too. Hey, if you're not busy tonight, you should come over for a beer. We like meeting new people."

"Who's 'we'?" she asked curiously.

"Me and my roommate, Steve. We're friendly and bored."

Emily laughed. "Excellent qualifiers."

"I thought so," Sam said. "I'll see you around."

"I guess so," she said, and shut the door.

She turned back to her apartment, which was growing warmer by the minute. "Dammit!" she exclaimed to the empty space. "Now I can't buy cheese!"