(no subject)

Layla couldn't say she was worried by the sound of Jamie having a conversation with Richards. Everyone needed a sounding board. This sounded particularly purposeful, though, and not the usual 'I can't believe you chewed up/peed on/hid that' exchange. She walked into the hut, ponytail swinging where it was tied low between her shoulder blades- she was due for a trim, she figured; it was starting to get to conventional super-heroine lengths- and went to lean in the doorway to his room, absently sliding her hands into the pockets of her khaki shorts.

"Don't you make the conspiratorial pair."