Pale angel go away
Come again some other day
The devil has my ear today
I'll never hear of what you say
A Perfect Circle, "Weak And Powerless"

She surely had to look the fool; a pool of claret spread about her tennis shoes, glass quivering to a stand still within the liquid, and she was standing there, half bent, her brows furrowed in confusion – a little shock as well – staring curiously at his mask. If it hadn't been for the soft clearing of his throat, her tired mind wouldn't have snapped out of it. Blinking once, she met his eyes, raising a brow.

"Huh? Oh...I uh," she stammered, trying to find the right thing to say, and inwardly scowled at his low laughter.

"I am sorry. I did not mean to startle you." The corner of his mouth lifted and he crouched down to begin picking up the shards of glass. "I do not make it a habit to sneak up on people, I assure you," he teased lightly and she looked down upon him, studying him quietly.

His gloves were the first thing she noticed; besides the mask of course. Her attention had always been drawn by a person's hands; they spoke a lot about that individual. His fingers were long and thin, matching his frame perfectly as they deftly, effortlessly, plucked one shard or another from the floor. She would almost guess that he was painter, musician, or maybe even a surgeon with the quiet grace of his wrist and fingers. Shoulder-length hair – so dark of an auburn that it was nearly black – rested over the cream of his silk shirt in a vivid contrast. He was a well dressed individual, clean cut and meticulous according to the fine creases in his shirt and dark trousers.

"You don't have to do that; the clerks can take care of it." Ending her observation, she shrugged and stepped back a foot or two to get rid of that uneasiness of having a stranger within her own personal bubble.

"Mm, you are right, of course. I was simply finding a reason to stick around for a few seconds longer." He had a light accent, though from where...she couldn't quite pin point. Ugh, stop! You're not at work anymore. Stop profiling the poor guy. This time it was her turn to clear her throat, but she did so a little guiltily, then easily regained her composure giving him a dubious glance.

"I should go get someone..." she began, then trailed off when a clerk began wheeling a mop bucket down the aisle. Holy hell, they're fast. Then again, it is pretty empty this morning.

"Ah, yon Knight in Shining Bucket," he stated with a quiet grunt, pulling up to a stand. It was only then when she truly noticed how tall he was; a half a foot or so above her own height and she was a tall one at five-foot eight. Unable to keep her stoic resolve at his jesting manner, a soft smile passed over her lips, and she glanced to his hand as he reached for another bottle.

"How about I pay for this one, for startling you?" Though she couldn't see the lift of his brow, she could almost hear it within his voice, and she shook her head lightly, raising a hand to tuck a few strands behind her ear that were too short to be kept within her braid.

"Thanks, but no," she murmured, slipping her fingers beneath the bottle to take it from his leather clad hand. Tucking it into her basket, she glanced up to his face again, managing to keep from studying the mask more than she had already. Burn victim, perhaps? Shaking her head she shrugged. "Don't worry about it..."

"Erik," he continued, providing her with his name.

"Erik," she parroted, nodding once, then absently began shifting a few things within her basket, simply keeping her hands busy for the moment. "Thank you again, Erik. I...have to go. Have a nice night." Without further comment she turned around and started off toward the check out stand.

There was only a moments silence before his voice lifted just loud enough for her to hear him. "I did not catch your name."

Unable to resist, she turned her head with a light smirk cast back toward him. "That's because I didn't throw it," she called in return, rounding the corner, this time grinning when she heard him chuckle a "touché". Exhaling a tired breath, becoming more exhausted by the minute, she approached the counter and placed the basket upon the edge of the conveyer belt. Unpacking her groceries, she snagged herself a Kit-Kat and added that to the pile.

"You know. We really have to stop meeting up like this."

At least this time she didn't flinch when his voice came up from behind her. Her long braid twitched against her back as she glanced over to him, moving closer to the cashier. Slipping her small wallet from her slacks she flipped it open, drawing out her ATM card and poised it over the swipe-slot. "Yes, we do." She almost immediately felt guilty of her lightly caustic tone and sighed heavily. "Sorry, I'm just very tired and I'm really not looking forward to the ride home."

"Ah, it is fine. Completely understandable." He shrugged, apparently unfazed by her brush off, then apology, as if he had gotten the same reaction time and time again. He began unpacking his own basket, immaculately placing the cans within rows and columns, then began with the boxes and finally the fragile items; bread, eggs and tomatoes. "Argument with a–"

He couldn't finish the question before Charlotte's voice rang over the gentle beeps coming from the register. "Christina! Are you done yet? I'm practically falling to sleep in the car!" Amused, Erik glanced over toward the loud-mouthed woman, then back to the woman who he knew now as Christina. Only a subtle chuckle was given as he watched her rub the bridge of her nose.

"No," she muttered, continuing: "A ride with an annoying bint." Swiping her card at the clerks indication, she glanced up to the young woman. "Twenty dollars over, please. In fives." Shifting her weight, unconsciously covering the tapping of her PIN into the system with her body, she tucked away the card as well as the wallet. Collecting her groceries once the bagger finished, she glanced over to Charlotte, then up to him with a soft smile. "Thanks again, by the way. Maybe next time I won't make a fool of myself."

"Next time?" His lips turned up in that smile he gave before, one she couldn't help but find almost cat like, yet...sensual. A charmer, mm?, she mused, looking toward Charlotte as he spoke again. "Planning on meeting again, I take it?"

"Don't get your hopes high, bub." Glancing back to him she cast him a wink then started off toward Charlotte, quite aware that he was watching her leave; she could almost feel the weight of his eyes upon her back. When they moved through the electric-sliding doors she glanced through the window long enough to note that his attention was upon the clerk. Dear God, Christina. You weren't flirting, were you?

As if she truly needed a relationship at this point and time in her life. Barely in her thirties, still somewhat young – or at least that's what she'd vehemently argue – she was at the height of her career and didn't need someone dragging her down with something like a love life. She was far too busy, and far too interested in her work. Though...it couldn't be denied that she did find interest within one person at her work place; which made him a definite "hands off". Business and pleasure just didn't mix well, at all.

"Took you long enough," the murmur from her side broke her thoughts and Christina rolled her eyes.

"Do you always have to be such a bitch?"

"Do you want to walk?" Charlotte countered, side glancing to her before she turned to the car and unlocked her door.

"Do you want your gas money?" Christina's retort came swiftly and she let a smile form on her lips that should have given her cavities. Though five dollars wasn't much, as high as gas prices were she knew that the woman would take every little penny she could. Charlotte gave no response, only closed her door and waited for Christina to climb in before the car was started and they were off again to their next destination.

This time the ride was completely silent save for the songs that 92.5 XTU was pumping out. Christina wasn't sure she could take any more of that woman's singing tonight without telling her to leave the Country music to the professionals.


She was more than pleased to finally get home. Leaving Charlotte with her money she started up the drive way of her house, practically sagging against the wrought iron door as she fumbled out her keys and unlocked it then the door behind it. Once inside, she carried her bags to the kitchen, unloading the items into the fridge and cabinets, then tucked the plastic bags away to use later.

Starting to get a headache from how tight her braid was and how long it had been fastened within her hair, she began to loosen the dark blonde strands as she went upstairs, aching for a long hot shower. Inwardly she lamented that the tub was cracked. It was yet another thing on her list to get fixed. The house wasn't the best; a bit run down and in need of some fixing, but the mortgage was cheap, it was close to work and it was a place to live.

After her shower, she considered checking her e-mail, but the comfort of her bed was calling to her. Donning her usual night wear of a large T-shirt and boxers – she could never seem to sleep in anything too tight – she climbed into her bed, pulling her teddy bear beneath the sheets with her. She had outgrown the thing ages ago, but it was the one thing she couldn't get rid of from her childhood. Surprisingly it was still in shape, save for the once silky fur was kinky and knotted from being tossed in the dryer after a good washing.

Tucking the bear's head beneath her jaw she hugged the stuffed animal to her chest, exhaling a soft comfortable sigh. Inadvertently her mind traveled back to the supermarket and the appealing man she had met there. Once one got past the initial oddity of the mask, he didn't seem so bad. An incorrigible flirt, undoubtedly, but he appeared nice enough. Besides he had sparked her curiosity...and he had amazing eyes.

Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to see him again after all.