"An interesting proposition," she said, giving him a hard look from underneath the brim of her hat.
"Will you take the job or not, Detective?" Sulu asked, putting his fists lightly on the table to lean forward. Not menacing her, but not seeming all that patient either.
"You'll have to cover expenses if you want me to track down this Jim guy. And travel to Morocco won't be cheap," she told him, eyes narrowed.
"I can cover it," he shot back with a smirk, "But you should know. I'm going there with you. I won't sit at home twiddling my thumbs when my old friend's in trouble over there. And you might need me if things get... complicated." Sulu glanced down at the gun at his waist to indicate exactly what he meant.
She grinned, sharp more than friendly, and said, "I have my own methods of handling complications, Mr. Sulu," as she untied her trenchcoat, leaned back in her chair, and let the tan cloth fall away from her body.
Sulu was almost distracted by the curve of her body, the breaths moving her ribs up and down beneath the well-fitted silk shirt, until he saw that beneath her coat she had been hiding, somehow, a gleaming katana.
He smiled at her. "I'm sure you do, Detective. But it's my dime and my friend, and you might as well get used to the fact that your new travelling buddy snores."
She peered at him. "Can't work with the client hovering over the shoulder."
"Can't or won't?" he asked.
"Not worth it," she said and raised an eyebrow.
"Make it worth it?" he replied.
"If you want to help, it'll cost double. I don't need a straight arrow like you cramping my style."
"I don't think your style is in any immediate danger, Detective," he said, smiling, "And double your regular pay will be fine. Plane leaves at ten."
He strode out of her office then, leaving her to stare as he left. She had wanted the man to go away, forget about her, and thought that double her fees would do the trick. But here she was, remembering the place that first taught her that she was no wilting flower. That she, in fact, had steel in her will.
And she was getting on a plane to go back there at ten.
AN: Written for a prompt on livejournal at the Characters of Color ficathon