Stakeout. Blayne sat on the ground, albeit on a pillow, with her back against a wall, and waited. Irritably she rolled a piece of sushi between her fingers, all the while watching the doorway. One of Aryn's weaknesses was this restaurant- it had the only good sushi in town.
Sushi was a new fad, from a land across the ocean. Many places had tried to copy it, but so far only this one succeeded. Whenever Aryn had money, and sometimes when she didn't, she came here.
Blayne, knowing the State would be looking for someone of her description, had taken precautions. Her hair was highlighted golden (she had tucked all the highlighted strands under the hat earlier), she had put on quite a bit of makeup, and heeled boots added a few inches to her height. Her hair had also been yanked into a miniscule high pony, and she wore a sleeveless, black, formfitting shirt with laces at the neck, along with moderately tight jeans- a far cry from the girl in the State uniform.
Even though the sushi was delicious, Blayne was getting bored. She wondered if the other thief was even going to show up. Just when she was about to get a nosebleed from impatience, though, a suspicious figure slunk in. She dropped her face to the sushi bite and conducted a scan through her eyelashes. Baggy clothes- check. The person might have been a boy, from all you could tell by the cargo pants and long-sleeved t-shirt. Hat- check. Aryn was rarely without a hat, and this one had a face-shadowing brim. Blonde hair- check. The other had made an attempt to cover the hair with the hat, but due to incompetence, blonde showed around the edges. Aryn almost never put her hair up. But there was one last thing- as the person looked up slightly to take a menu from the waitress, Blayne caught a glimpse of a pale, finely boned chin. Definitely Aryn the glowstick twig. So white she glowed in the dark.
She stood up and walked over, then dropped onto a cushion on the opposite side of the table. After looking at Aryn for a moment, she laid both hands on the table and said in a conversational tone, "I believe you have something that belongs to me."
"'Scuze me?" The hat came off, revealing- not Aryn. Blayne had never seen a face like that on a boy, but the deeper voice and shaggy golden-blonde haircut left no doubt. He seemed to be a year or two older than she was. With an obvious scan of her body, he smirked and said, "I might. What's it worth to you?"
Embarrassed and disgusted, she almost stood up and left, but she caught the barest glimpse of blue through the window. Doing a double take, she realized that a troop of State soldiers were headed towards the restaurant and jumped to her feet. But a slim figure in a t-shirt and cargo pants, shoulder-length pale blonde hair unbound, brushed past her, unrecognizing: Aryn. If she was here, then the military must be after her, Blayne realized. Maybe getting Aryn caught by the State would be the best alternative, but she couldn't get caught herself. No way would she give Mustang that. Shit. I've gotta hide.