(no subject)

[elasticity]

It's been an embarrassingly long time since Sally has given a facial to anyone other than herself. She knew that her skills were up to snuff because she did them to herself every week in the mirror, but she hadn't exactly done then on anyone else in a long while.

Which meant she could be losing her touch. And besides, it wasn't like the market was any kind of temperature to sell products, so instead she was in the kitchen with all her self-made tools and supplies.

And now she needed a volunteer. The minute she saw him, she knew that she had the perfect suspect. "Charlie!" she excitedly called over. "Charlie! Are you busy?"

Comments

[kindofbroken.livejournal.com]

"Busy?"

Turning from where he stood by the kitchen counter, Crews pulled a face, slowly setting the dish he'd finished wiping off into the sink.

"No, I don't think so. I don't have an appointment book anymore — well, I guess I never really did — but no, I don't think so."

A beat.

"Why?"

[dinnerfor1-girl.livejournal.com]

Sally began to grin and it was a terribly mischievous and horrible grin, at that. "I need a volunteer," she said, in the manner that implied he had just been told that he was going to do it. "How do you feel about a better you, Charlie?"

[kindofbroken.livejournal.com]

At the sight of the expression on her face, the one on Charlie's grew steadily more dubious.

"That depends on what you mean by 'better,'" he said, not budging from the spot. "More zen? I could go for more zen. Or more one. More one-ness. I think that's better."

[dinnerfor1-girl.livejournal.com]

"Well, I suppose that some of my clients find a kind of peace," she reasoned as she twirled the blackhead scraper back and forth. "I need someone to practice a facial on. I'm wonderful at doing it in the mirror, but no one's needed a facial in a long while. I need to make sure I'm still good enough."

[kindofbroken.livejournal.com]

Almost immediately, all remnants of dubiousness lift from Crews' face. "A facial?" he repeats, "I could go for a facial. I mean, I've never done one — had one done? — before. But I can sit still, if that's all I need to do."

[dinnerfor1-girl.livejournal.com]

"You're perfect," Sally announced, searching around them and finally finding a chair that was slightly broken. "Come here, sit back, and close your eyes. I'll get you moisturized and looking young as anything in no time!"

[kindofbroken.livejournal.com]

Crews obliged, taking a seat and closing his eyes, folding his hands over his chest. "Did you use to get lots of practice with this sort of thing?" he asked, crossing his ankles as well.

[dinnerfor1-girl.livejournal.com]

"This was my job," Sally replied with a bemused smile, shifting until she had the light and could study his face. She drew out the lotion first in order to start moisturizing before she could strip away layers. "I was a beautician. I still am. I just don't have the resources or the shop here."

[kindofbroken.livejournal.com]

"That's a pity," he remarked. "I still do my job, here. Sort of. IPD. Island Police Department. We don't have nearly as many cases, but that's not a bad thing. There aren't any badges, here, though. But I do have my old once. From the LAPD."

[dinnerfor1-girl.livejournal.com]

"And did you solve many crimes there?" she asked as she began to isolate any blotches of skin and any blackheads so she could remove them. "This may hurt a little," she warned, letting the grime and dirt ooze out of his pores before starting to clean it away.

[kindofbroken.livejournal.com]

"I did," he replied, only showing the smallest flicker of a reaction as she cleaned his face. "Well, we did."

There's a brief pause. Dani isn't a topic that he's really broached since her disappearance, and although he's gotten much better about his behavior since her departure, he's still hurting.

"Did you ever meet Reese?"

[dinnerfor1-girl.livejournal.com]

"The name doesn't really ring a bell," Sally had to admit as she worked, leaning in rather than squinting and earning the inevitable lines for the movement. "Sorry," she added (almost as an afterthought). "Who was she?"