"Don't you dare add that to any file on me that you've got at your station," she said, a little bite returning to her words as they took off for the gastropub. If he did, she'd find out. Somehow or someway, she'd know.

Nancy followed Lance dutifully, taking the few minutes to try to breath, dry her tears. Lily, truthfully, helped, as Nancy kept a had brushing her fur as they walked. Animals were outstanding, and she'd always loved them. The way they just knew things. She knew in the instant she got home tonight, Juliet would bound over and try to make sure she was okay, in the way that cats do.

Mostly she'd show her her butt and meow at her.

At the bartender's words, Nancy looks down, blushing. Her makeup's mostly gone, and she likely looks her own eighteen years old for once. "He's just buying me a drink," Nancy muttered, "I try not to associate with the police, otherwise."