33 Apocalypse Ave, Saturday Afternoon

Margo's feelings about sex pollen week: surprisingly mixed, this time around. But at least she'd woken up less murdery, and had gotten some clothes to at least make it back home.

Handy, especially because - ugh - she still wasn't anywhere near as tall as Eliot.

"Eliot?" she called, as she slammed the door shut behind her. "I brought lattes!"

Fuck. Would he know it was her?

"Come check out my new dick!"

There. That'd do it. ... If Eliot was here, anyway. If not, well, easier to steal some of his cologne.

[[ mostly for eliot if he wishes but can be open for (house)calls ]]