"Saturday. Gotcha." Her work schedule is as offbeat as it gets; she can go weeks without doing a damn thing and then it all hinges on one night, one hour even. But that's how the life goes when one of your more frequent requests is assassination and the setup for that ain't hard.

She's going to remember it; maybe next time they'll go to her place, which is a bit better stocked for not needing to go out as early. She cooks--not with any great skill, but she can manage breakfast at least--and has the same amenities that his place does, shower and toothbrushes and that shit. Sin thinks it could be fun, and her definition of fun is as unique as she is. She glances at Daphne, notes the way she looks at Reno, and knows she'll never look like that, never really feel the fluttery stomach feeling that goes with meeting someone and letting yourself get in over your head. But she likes just plain old sex and chatting fine enough, keeping it easy and lighthearted.

Sin ducks her head for a second at those thoughts, smiling. Oh yeah. This could be fun.