Spending All Your Money On Me

[Tom Harriman]

A daughter. Ordinarily, this would be the workplace situation where one crooned, asked to see photos, and pressed for really pointless trivial information that would ever be of use in any other situation, unless you wound up on some weirdly personal quiz show where the ten thousand dollar question was the birth weight of the daughter of Terry from Accounts.

From the context though, this clearly wasn't the time for prying. He could see sadness in Dahlia's eyes, and a little in Frank's eyes too. This was family business, and Tom most definately was not family.

Instead, he focused his attention on the situation at hand. He wasn't familiar enough with LA's geography to know where they were; but he was willing to bet that their pilot was. Regardless, this was hardly the first time that Tom had been flung out of an aeroplane into the middle of nowhere - he'd done it for a living, once - and while he hadn't been able to study maps extensively beforehand, there were still a few clues in the terrain and topography that helped him out.

Hands on his hips, he scanned the horizon; halting, he gestured towards a moderately substantial road in the distance. "We should head over there," he decided, glancing over his shoulder to Dahlia. "Any chance you can use that phone of yours to call us a limo?"

[Dahlia Ericsson]

"Yeah."

Dahlia muttered under her breath as she let her diamond skin recede, fingers handing the phone over to Frank to make the actual call. As he walked off a few steps to do just that, she turned slightly to look back towards the city.

Hands clasped behind her back, she concentrated simply on breathing. It could all just be a coincidence. It didn't necessarily mean that Athalie was in danger. But Dahlia just couldn't shake the feeling that some nebulous 'thing' was coming for them.

Frank returned in short order, and Dahlia nodded as he confirmed that he'd sent coordinates to Joe. It was simply up to them to make it over to the road.