Evening in Rapture and the close of play thrum audible in the walkways had long been replaced by a fluorescent glow as the city's bars hummed into life, filling up with people beginning their weekend. In the office of Booker DeWitt Marie glanced wistfully through the misty depths to a cabaret bar. How she'd love to make dinner and a show one day. Not that she could afford it even if she did ever finish early enough to make it. The light levels at the bottom of the ocean never really changed but the shift in the mood of the place told her when she was staying on much later than anyone else might tolerate.

Officially she was the secretary but she practically kept the place going. Sure, Mr DeWitt ran the jobs and could handle the trouble that often came along with them, but it was a two man operation, they both knew it. She would describe herself more as an all round personal assistant except that she wasn't sure they were generally as useful on cases as she was, or that part of their job was to wake up their boss from amongst the whiskey bottles on his desk before bringing the coffee, or dealing with the fallout of some of his less wise decisions. Booker, you sure better appreciate what you got.

She was a saint. She ought to be asking for more pay to do all she did or go elsewhere, but what were friends for? No one else would keep things going the way she did and they couldn't hire extra help. She regularly pushed him to make her a detective too, it was what she really wanted and she was good at it; why else would he bring her in on the details so often, even take her in the field when a delicate touch or extra pair of hands was necessary?

But the money wasn't there to make it happen and hire new admin, so here she was making vague plans to take herself to the cabaret one day while clearing the last thing on her desk.

A knock at the door roused her from her daydream and in walked a young woman. Possibly around the same age as her, she was pretty with immaculate black hair in the style Marie always tried to achieve but could never get quite right, and dressed to appear the perfect balance between professional and attractive. "Hello, I'm looking for a Mr Booker DeWitt. Is he still here?"

She didn't look like a client. And most clients didn't show up so late on a Friday. Booker was always working or else drunk, though, so he wasn't dating, was he? The blouse was a little formal for a date, but the fishnet stockings and sultry dark lipstick was a touch too much in the other direction, in Marie's opinion. "We're about to close, but yes, Mr DeWitt is still here. May I take your name, and I'll let him know you are here." She hadn't intended to respond so coldly- professionalism, after all- but she didn't appreciate having her working day extended yet again, she supposed. The weekend was calling, of course, har har.

"I'm Elizabeth," the woman cooed.

Marie stifled a sigh as she rose from her chair and strode to Booker's office, knocking and pausing briefly before slipping in.

He looked up from the mess of transcripts and photographs on his desk, the ice in his glass jingling with the movement. At least he was using a glass. He was still working when he bothered not to drink straight from the bottle. "Marie, get yourself home already, kid. It's Friday."

"I'm just finishing up. It's not like I've got anything fancy planned with what you're paying me, anyway," she smirked. She really did want a promotion so she wouldn't let up, even if it was just teasing.

Booker sighed and ran a hand over his stubble. Not that he needed to look any more rough- Marie had seen him in and after a brawl a few times- but she rather liked how it made him look so rugged. "Well leave it until Monday, it's late. I ain't a slave driver."

Marie inwardly rolled her eyes- how easily he had forgotten how much paperwork there was now that she did it all. "Well, thanks. I like to get it done though so I'm not swamped when you need my help on those hard cases." She folded her arms while he scoffed a little and stood up. "Anyway there's a woman here to see you... says her name's Elizabeth." His slight frown told her it was not a date, which she discovered she was pleased about. New help, maybe? Trust him to give in to her wishes and fill her old job with someone prettier. "We've no appointments, I don't know what she wants. I can tell her to come back next week."

Booker headed for the door. "No, no I'll see what this is about. If you really want to work cases we need more jobs. Could even catch a break."

Marie followed Booker back to the main office and continued finishing the last of her work while they greeted one another.

"Booker DeWitt. What business brings you here, Miss...?" he offered his hand.

"You can call me Elizabeth," the woman purred, taking the hand.

Marie thought she was looking at him altogether too knowingly, and the handshake lingered a little too long.

"If we might speak somewhere private, I have information that will be of great interest to you."

"Hm. All right." He led the woman back to his office, turning to Marie on the way. "I'll take it from here. I'll call you if anything comes up, Marie."

Of course he would. She smiled as the last paper work was filed. "Good night, Booker."