the meeting (placeholder)

 "Ah. The Beatles. How trivial."

"I would have sung the Turtles except I don't think anybody knows them anymore."

He raises his eyebrows. 

"No, but really... I guess they do because of that one Naked Gun movie but maybe not because who sits there listening to '60s music because all the time it's '70s music now and even then it's only disco and and even then the radio wants to play all the cover versions and that totally messes up everything."

"Did you just say that all in one breath?"

"Yes."

She shrugs and turns away.

"An impressive feat."

"Thanks."

She mimics his flat tone. 

"Do you know who I am?"

"Yes. My brother's talked about you."

"Saying only the kindest things, of course."

"Yeah. We'll go with that."

She starts whistling 'Do You Know What I Know" even though it's not Christmas. 

"Perhaps you could tell me who you are."

"I'd rather not. You've already insulted my musical taste. That's a red flag right there."

He smirks slightly. 

"Plus you've been cowering over me like The Shadow knows and that's just creepy."

"You're too young to know The Shadow."

"You mean I'm not emo enough? I'm all in black after all. You almost ran into me. Next time I'll carry a flashlight like a detective... a detective that dresses like you."

He looks down, curiously.  His suit was of the finest blend, and his grey tie matched perfectly. There was no way at all that he looked like anyone from a Dashiell Hammett story. 

"I'd look out of place in a Dashiell Hammett mystery."

"Well you certainly aren't Nick Charles, much less Humphrey Bogart."

He stared at her, wide eyed. Who was this person? 

"What? I was raised by my grandparents. I can't help that. Well maybe I don't want to help that. Sometimes I want to help that. There were some days that I really wanted to help that... but that day isn't today."

She looks at him.

"Sorry. I'm the Queen of Overshare."

"I was beginning to recognize that." 

"Are you reading out of a dictionary?" 

"No."

"Darn."

This conversation was not going the way he wanted it to. 

"This conversation isn't going the way you wanted it to, is it?"

"No."

"Is it at least a little fun for you?"

"Yes."

"Well good. I got that going for me, anyway."

And all was well and good, until her brother came in and dragged her away, glaring at him over his shoulder.