She adjusted her bag, took out her passport, and went to pick up her tickets at the reception desk. After much annoyance and some glaring from the heavily made up clerk, she finally got checked in.

First class, Astrid. Typical. Can't complain, though, she really came through. Hate to think where I'd be right now without her.

She had first met Astrid when she was shopping. They'd argued over the last pair of boots that were on sale, which would have been perfect on Ash. Astrid had to have them and offered to buy Ashlyn any other pair. They spent the rest of the day shopping for boots and soon became fast friends. When Astrid turned out to be a good contact for Alec, it had been a bonus and a reason to keep up their friendship.

Ashlyn went to the sky bar and used the spiffy card to open the door. God, who designs these things? Looks like a brothel, so furry and shiny. I hope the toilets aren't as bad. Maybe they have a shower. I need a shower.

She walked to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror, studying her reflection. She looked tired and emaciated. Her hair, normally styled to perfection, now lay flat, matted, and greasy. What little makeup she wore was now long gone or smeared beyond recognition. She opened her bag and set about fixing herself or at least making her reflection a bit more presentable. After all, this was first class.

When she emerged fifteen minutes later, she felt a little bit more like herself again. Her hair was wet and slicked back, and her makeup back to normal. Luckily, she had a change of clothes; she'd grabbed a small black dress before she left the house, which she now had on under her leather jacket. She'd even managed to pick up travel-sized deodorant at the drugstore and had brushed her teeth. Added all together with her best black boots, she didn't look too bad. The boots were comfy, too. Silver tipped, ridiculously expensive, and courtesy of that first shopping trip with Astrid. She stretched slightly as she walked to the bar and sat down.

"Four fingers of Jack, please, with ice," she ordered, sparing a smile for the bartender.

"Certainly. What mixer would you like with that?"

She cocked her head to one side, looking at him dumfounded. "Mixer? I already said ice, didn't I?" The bartender nodded. "Then, no, why would I pollute it with cola? Just gimme the drink."

She was just about to pay when a man sat down next to her and handed the bartender money. "I'll pay for that."

She glared at him. "I can pay for my own drinks, thank you."

The handsome stranger just smiled infuriatingly. "Then I'm sure you can pay for the next round, and you're more than welcome."

His smile never faltered. He had a very nice shape to him, strong shoulders and arms, and an honest expression. If he keeps smiling like that I'm gonna have to ... move seats. I hate being me.

"Your ice cubes are melting. Are you okay? You look a bit upset."

She looked up at him, into his dark blue eyes. He was nice looking--well balanced. Probably had a great ass. Most men did. It wasn't fair. Then she looked down at the drink she held clasped in her hands. The ice was melting. Damn power. "I'm fine, thanks. I do need more ice, though."

His face light up, as if it were a task he was born to do. He reached into a tanker that was on the bar and came out with a scoop of ice. "There you are. Ice, extra cold."

He looked so happy and proud of himself. All he'd done was get ice. His expression was so childlike and innocent she burst out laughing.

"See, that's better. A face as lovely as yours should always have a smile on it."

Cheesy line, but effective. I kinda like this guy. Plus, he's hot. "I'm sure you've seen a lot of pretty faces in your time."

He ducked his head and nodded, the smile still on his face. "A few, yes, but not one has ever turned down a free drink."

She looked up at him and held his gaze. "I pay my own way when I can."

He nodded again; this time the smile was gone. "I respect that. So, what has you so upset? It wasn't your boyfriend, was it?"

Ash turned back to her drink and took a long gulp before turning back to him.

"My boyfriend's dead. Well, he wasn't really my boyfriend. He could have been. We ... he's dead."

The man's eyebrows shot up in surprise, and his face took on a thoughtful expression that Ash wasn't quite sure she liked. "That is ... interesting. Now you're here, all alone. Poor little lost bunny in the rain, hiding from the wolves. Hell, I respect that, too. You're quite the woman, Ashlyn Co'shott."

He slammed his empty bottle down, and Ash jumped out of her seat and glared suspiciously at him.

"It's on your ticket." He pointed to the ticket sitting on the bar. She nodded at the ticket.

This guy just flipped on me. He's gone all "redrum." Out loud, she said, "Oh."

There was an announcement over the speakers, one of those ones that nobody can decipher and everyone strains to hear. The man stood, keeping a careful distance from Ash while he gathered his things.

"Saved by the bell. That's my flight. It has been a pleasure spending time with you. I'll have to get that drink some other time, perhaps? I'm sure if you're still up and about in a few years time, our paths will cross, one way or the other. My name's Cash."

"Yeah, maybe. Bye, Cash."

He smiled warmly then left. She stood for a while then eventually sat down and went back to her drink.