Please see Chapter 1 for relevant disclaimers and explanations.
A/N - I know, I promised this last week. But, to make up for that and the fact that this is so short, I'm posting two chapters today. I would have combined them, but they refused to stick together :-) Thanks to Leanne and maliek for the reviews!
Faith stood before the open bag, gazing doubtfully at its contents. Not much to work with. After another moment of deliberation, she sighed and pulled out a wrinkled button-down shirt and black skirt. She could button the top buttons for once, maybe pull the skirt a little lower. It would have to do. She had already blown her cash on the Cassatt and wasn't about to go shopping again any time soon. She squinted at the gifts where they lay tossed on the bed. They seemed smaller now, somehow. They weren't even wrapped. They were crappy anyway. Who was she kidding? Maybe she shouldn't go. The TV might work tonight. She could use that stake herself.
She began to stuff the shirt back into the bag. As she reached for the skirt, a brief rustling movement across the room caught her eye. A newspaper page scuttled across the corner, neatly avoiding a dusty mousetrap, and was still again. Faith watched it resignedly. She turned back to the gifts on the bed, biting her lip and not thinking about whatever was living in the corner. She swallowed and pulled out the shirt. Fine. She would go.
She shook the garment a few times, scowling at the wrinkles. Why couldn't she ever hang something up for once? Grabbing her towel from the radiator, Faith headed for the bathroom. She draped the shirt across the sink as best she could and stripped off her remaining clothes. Turning the shower as hot as it could go, Faith did her best to steam up the bathroom during her shower. The hot water continued for a pitifully short period of time before ebbing into a lukewarm dribble. Used to showering quickly, Faith quickly rinsed her hair and stepped out to examine the shirt. Well. It was as smooth as it would get. She'd just have wear her jacket over it.
Uncomfortably aware of the dark shade of her lipstick, Faith hurried through her make-up application. Slipping on the chosen outfit, she found herself once again wishing for a full-length mirror. She dragged the wobbly desk chair to the bathroom and stood before the mirror hunched over, tugging the skirt lower on her legs. Finally, convinced it would go no lower, she rose and abruptly cracked her head on the ceiling. She swore as a shower of plaster dust coated her. I can't believe I'm doing this. Who the hell cares what I look like?
The chair clattered to the floor as Faith irritably kicked it back to the bedroom. Screw that. She was leaving. Scooping up the gifts from the bed, she headed for the door.