a tale of two shirts

Who: Dodge and Evelyn
Where: Evelyn's Place
When: Evening

He'd considered just having someone follow her home after the ball, but instead he'd found out where she was staying through his normal means. So he'd gotten dressed in one of his favorite suits, wiped off his fedora and took Angelo's umbrella with him as he headed across town to her new digs.

Once there it didn't take much more than a sweet smile and a little nervous tone to his voice to get him through the door. Actually it got him more than that. When he asked for her she wasn't in but one of the girls who was offered to make him tea and sit with him while he waited in the front room. After a few moments though more of the residents had joined them, one even brought cookies, and Dodge soon found himself holding court to three lovely ladies all of whom giggled appropriately at his every joke and story.

Evelyn hadn't been out long -- and it wasn't long before she had come back in again. She had actually stayed in most of the day, but certain necessary errands had sent her trekking out -- wrapped up in her coat, gloves, and scarf; covering up as much she could for her own sake rather than just avoiding looks from strangers. She even had her hair down -- something she never ever did in public -- and thrown over her right shoulder in a way that covered the side of her face. And then she went about getting something to eat (because her wrist wasn't fond of cooking at the moment) and also stopped by drug store for painkillers and first-aid supplies. But walking about the city, even the populated and familiar part that was her own, unnerved her a bit so Evelyn had wasted no time returning home once her errands were done. And she was just looking forward to the peace and quiet of her apartment -- even though the day had proved anything but peaceful -- and was about to head up there... if it weren't for the fact that she couldn't not miss Dodge happily hamming it up as she entered the building.

She let out a tired sigh, giving a quick glance up at the stairs before heading towards Dodge and the girls. She look at him, right hand shoved in her pocket as the left held the paper bag from the drugstore. "Dodge, what are you doing here?" Her tone didn't have the usual exasperation or annoyance it did when he popped up, but it definitely came off tired.

"Evelyn," Dodge said with a faked face of shock. He jumped to his feet and tugged the fedora off his head, as if to be gentlemanly. Sidestepping around the girl who'd taken up the space next to him on the couch, he moved towards her. "I was waiting on you and these lovely ladies offered to wait with me." Reaching for the bag in her hand he took it from her, as if he was going to carry it up to her room.

Her jaw tensed as he took the bag, mostly because she felt the contents said 'Look at us, somebody's hurt!'. But that could've just been her being paranoid. Even though Evelyn didn't really suffer from a lack of self-confidence, she got more self-conscious about evidence of troubles and vulnerabilities she preferred to hide. And the bag, with its first-aid kit and roll of bandages and painkillers and the like, was evidence in her mind. "And why," she asked as she used both hands to reach for the bag (even though the left would do most of the work), "would you be waiting on me?"

She forced a suspicion in there that she really wasn't up to feeling, but just felt needed to be put in. She was aware that none of the girls had left the room, and wasn't comfortable with the audience there, but she didn't make a move for the stairs yet. She wanted just lock herself in her apartment with her whole being right now, but a hopeful part of her (though also tired like the rest of her) was attempting to discouraging him from following her... or hoping one of the girls waiting with him could. They were trying!

Dodge frowned as she attempted to take the bag back, even though she was moving a little slow. Quickly he peeked in it, which he hadn't intended to do originally, but the contents were a bit unnerving. "Because I missed you," he told her, leaning in closer to her an using his free hand to brush the slightest bit of her hair away, exposing the bruise on her face for an instant. To anyone else in the room the touch would have just seemed familiar, but the widening of Dodge's eyes let Evelyn know that he'd done it on purpose and found what he'd been dreading. Upon seeing him touch her so, the girls somewhat gave up on keep him for their own. He could hear them behind him shifting, moving to pour more tea and murmuring amongst themselves. "What the hell happened?" His voice had dropped to a breath of a whisper so only she could hear it and his eyes never left hers.

She shot him a glare and moved her head away. "I'm fine," she hissed -- although the tone was angrier than she had intended to show. Okay so maybe she was getting a bit defensive -- but really, what right did he have to be nosy as all hell? She was perfectly content to just move on from the whole experience, now knowing to never make the mistake of falling asleep on a damn bus ever again, and learn to handle a knife better or just carry a gun, and make sure she never put herself in that position again. And, ignoring the fact she was still putting off what she was going to do about work, she didn't see why anybody else had to be in on her... 'misadventure'. She didn't storm her way towards the stairs or anything, but she did take her bag from him and head towards the stairs kinda irked-like.

"You are so not fine," he hissed back, but he let her take the bag and walk away. Before following her, he turned the charming Dodge grin on his hostesses and half bowed to them. "Thank you again ladies for keeping me company. I do truly appreciate it." They of course responded with pleasantries and hints that he was welcome any time, which of course he nodded in response to and then turned, trotting after Evelyn. Once he was at her side he let his hand drop into place against her lower back. "Seriously Evie, who did this to you?" His voice was still quiet, but it dripped with concern and a twinge of anger.

What with carrying the bag and carefully walking up the stairs because she couldn't rest too much weight on the hand on the banister, Evelyn couldn't twist away from him at the moment. But she shot him a look that spoke of what she thought of the hand -- even if he wasn't quite his cocky Flirt of a self at the moment. But it probably just blended into the display of general frustration -- and some anger -- she had been feeling when the whole situation came to light. "I don't know," she declared, taking an opportunity at the top of the first flight of stairs to hand the bag off to him -- it gave him something to do with his hands and she had less worry about falling down.

Her statement had kinda sounded like she was avoiding the issue, and Evelyn would rather have it sound like that than let it sound like the truth it was: she really didn't know. The best look she had gotten was him crossing the street at night; but she had only just seen his figure before the Flight! instinct kicked in and he had grabbed her from behind. And in the dark of the street and even darker dark of the alley and the frenzied fear and her determination to just get away... she hadn't gotten a good look at the guy at all. She couldn't say what his hair looked like or how tall he was or what he was wearing or anything at all. And for somebody who prided herself on her observational skills and clear head in the face of an upset, well the fact that she couldn't say anything other than 'It was a man' left her feeling stupid and plenty of frustrated at herself.

His own frustration was bubbling up as she glared at him, seemingly offended at his concern for her well being. She wasn't one of his boys who got in a scrape with someone and came home bruised and battered. No, she was a lovely young woman who someone had hurt, probably intentionally. Dodge took the bag willing when she handed it to him, but it didn't stop him from following her closely, shifting the bag to the arm away from her, keeping the spare arm free in case she needed help. "Evie," he started, "You don't have some boyfriend you didn't tell me about who did this to you do you?" It pained Dodge to ask, but he knew it could have been the case.

"No!" Her last relationship had ended a couple months before the move, and she'd never been in an abusive relationship and would never let herself be in one -- if a boyfriend were to hit her, she sure as hell wouldn't stick around or cover for him... or at least that's what she told herself. The fact that she was shrugging off and covering up the abuse from a random stranger probably wasn't in great support of that theory. "Some guy tried to mug me," she finally muttered with a nonchalance she really didn't feel. Saying the guy 'tried' to mug her gave the impression that mugging had been his only intent and that she had fought him off and gotten away... which really wasn't the case. But it was going to require a pulling of teeth for her to divulge the details. The next flight of stairs brought them to the third floor, which was hers, and Evelyn grabbed her key out of her pocket and shoved it into the lock.

Dodge's shock left him standing on the stairs even though she kept going. Had the crime in this city really gotten that terrible that Evelyn got mugged on this side of town. After a moment or two he realized that she'd kept moving and was now unlocking her door and he hurried up the steps after her. "Did he take anything?" Dodge asked hurriedly.

She didn't answer right away, supposedly busying herself with twisting the key in the lock and pushing the door open as she thought about the answer to that. The guy had taken her purse, and her entire week's wages -- she should really think about opening a bank account sooner than later -- but thanks to Dutch she had gotten all that back. "...No," she finally answered as she stood aside to let Dodge in, again taking the bag from him. She briefly debated as to where it should be stowed away, as she doubted she'd be able to convince Dodge to leave and she wasn't going to start playing the victim and administering the first aid in front of him.

The bathroom was closest, so Evelyn -- after pointedly nodding Dodge towards the common room -- quickly ducked in there and set the bag down beneath the sink (there wasn't any cabinet there). The only thing she did remove from the bag was the asipirin before walking out of the bathroom and shutting the door behind her.

She'd pointed him towards the common room, but instead he just followed after her. When she came out of the bathroom he was waiting for her, his usual smile gone from his face. In its place were lines of worry and concern. "Evie," he whisper softly, using the pet name with purpose, moving so he was close to her. This time he did brush her hair all the way back getting a good look at the bruising on her face. "I'm sorry."

"There's nothing for you be sorry for," she replied, flinching a bit as he touched her hair. Getting irked by concern -- especially genuine concern -- was pretty irrational. And Evelyn knew it was irrational, but it was something she tended to do when she just wanted to move away from the issue and others didn't. But she wasn't the sort to lash out about it, more she bit her tongue and tensed and stood there for an uncomfortable moment as she let Dodge get a look -- the bruising had adopted that still-fresh violently purple-and-red color which she hated as it stood very much out against her skin; and the gauze and medical-tape Dutch had helped her with was still placed where her cheekbone met her temple.

But the moment was all Evelyn could endure before she brought his hand down, letting her hair fall mostly back in place, before making her way towards the common room. The radio was still on from when she left, the model she had started in on over the weekend was scattered over the drop-top of the writing desk in the corner, and the small multi-purpose dining/sitting/card-playing was in the center of the room. The roses she had received, the card removed, were still stop the table -- Evelyn hadn't been changing the water but apparently her roommates had. The chairs for the table were actually kept stacked against the wall to save space, and the rest of the eating comprised of a large fabric chair and a small sofa. There wasn't a separate kitchen, but there was a kitchenette area in another corner of the room. That was where Evelyn headed, grabbing a glass to fill with water for the aspirin.

"I can still be sorry it happened," he told her before she pulled away and headed towards the common room. Dodge trailed after her frustrated that his attempts at tenderness were thwarted. He noted the roses in the middle of the room, but chose to ignore them. Evie said she didn't have a boyfriend so he decided they belonged to someone else. Or someone just liked fresh flowers in the small apartment. "Evie, please, for just a moment. I'm worried about you." The pleading was in his eyes. He knew full well there wasn't anyone else around to take care of her, not that she'd let them.

She turned her head towards him, taking in his expression, and that made her feel bad. Feeling coddled and pitied merely irked her, but having those she cared about worry about her just made her feel awful... almost guilty, even. Like she'd done something wrong in causing them to worry -- that she should have taken better care and not let herself be in a position to make them worry in the first place. It wasn't as if anybody had ever once made her feel that way, it was just... how she felt. It was the reason she hadn't called her family in the morning after she no longer had the 'I don't want to wake them up' excuse. And it was mainly why she had kept brushing off Dodge's concern and tried to encourage him to go away. But it had merely resulted in her practically biting off the head of a friend expressing understandable concern and who didn't deserve it... and Evelyn was really disappointed in herself for it.

So she turned around fully, sighing as she leaned lightly against the counter, making her body relax. "Dodge," her tone was gentler this time, and apologetic even if she wasn't actually saying 'sorry'. But it was followed by a pause as she decided what to say. "Could you grab two chairs for the table? From over there?" She motioned towards the stack of chairs for the dining table. Even though she had given up discouraging him following her in, her demeanor hadn't been exactly welcoming up til now. And, seeing as how it had been largely intentional, she was aware of that. But she had treated Dodge fairly poorly for his concern, and asking him to grab 'two' chairs was a small way of her amending that.

Dodge hesitated before going to gather the chairs. Mostly it was because he was fighting the urge to just ignore her and instead force her to let him hold her close, but he realized she'd fight it despite the apologetic tone in her voice. Sighing slightly he grabbed the chairs, setting them up around the table. "You really should change the bandage," he told her. "I can do it for you."

She considered it for a long moment -- just because Evelyn had given up an inch didn't mean she was one to give up another, much less a whole mile. But she finally said "All right," and quirked a small, almost bemused smile at that; finding some dim, self-deprecating amusement in being again offered help in something that should have been so simple for her to do. She had had every intention of doing her first-aid herself -- not just changing the gauze on her face but also wrapping up her wrist -- but doing that would require taking off the gloves and showing more evidence of what she was telling him was just an attempted mugging. She hadn't bothered to remove either her coat, scarf, or gloves since entering her apartment. "There should be gauze and medical tape in the bag. And bactine." The cut was no longer bleeding but it was large and Evelyn didn't want it to get infected.

She then turn back towards the sink, running water into a glass before placing it on the counter as she reached for the aspirin bottle. She gave an internal wince as she twisted open the container in her hands -- the gloves making it awkward but still doable -- and tossed a couple pills into her mouth. She chased them with the water before before placing the glass back on the counter. Then she walked to the icebox, and surveyed what she had there. "What do you want to drink?" She kept her tone soft -- her throat still wasn't up for much volume. "There's water and milk and... tea." And a bottle of gin left over from New Year's, which she wouldn't mind pouring from... but she had been taking painkillers all day and Evelyn was not suicidal.

Dodge had ducked in and out of the bathroom quickly enough, already pulling items out of the bag and setting them on the table. "I'm fine, don't need anything," he told her truthfully. He'd had plenty of tea downstairs, and he didn't want to put Evie out. Actually what he really wanted her to do was to sit down and let him take care of her briefly. Frustrated, he moved into the kitchenette area, catching an arm around her waist and tugging her away from the icebox. "How about, you just come over here, sit, and stop trying to do everything yourself."

She started when he grabbed her. Knowing Dodge and the fact he had always been touchy-feely meant she shouldn't have been surprised (which she wasn't), and it meant she definitely shouldn't have started so violently (which she did). But after last night Being Grabbed Suddenly had not only made the Things I Don't Like list but the Things That Spook Me list as well. Normally when she pulled away she shot him a Look that varied from a glare to just annoyance; but this time Evelyn, unnerved at her jumping from the touch even more so than the touch itself, kinda just wiggled away and made her way to the seat. Once in the chair though, she was pretty compliant, pushing her hair back and holding it away from her face. She fought the urge to go about removing the tape and gauze herself; sitting there like that wasn't at all easy for her to do, but she was trying to make up for her being so defensive about everything. ...not that her reaction just now helped. Great.

"Thank you," she murmured, after watching him a moment.

Dodge had frowned pretty hard when she jumped out of her skin and after a moment he realized that she was bothered from whatever had happened the night before. More than anything he wished she hadn't squirmed away but instead stayed and let him hold her until she felt safe again. He slid his chair next to her, close enough so that their knees were touching. Reaching up gently pulled the bandage off, catching his breath a little at the size of the gash. Using a clean bit of gauze he cleaned it and applied the bactine. She was so lovely this close up and Dodge almost got lost in her eyes. "Don't worry about it," he told her, smiling lightly. "You're far easier to patch up than a squirmy ten year old." Pressing the clean gauze against her cheek he gently taped it in place. "Plus I already told you once, I'd do anything for you." Dodge touched the unbruised cheek lightly with his fingers.

It was a sweet sentiment, and it got a wry smile out of her. He was a pretty good friend, it seemed -- something she had never really considered him as until recently, maybe even now. Until now she would've deemed him an acquaintance she had tolerated; never disliking him but never thinking anything more than him being someone whose pestering took turns amusing and exasperating her. "Well, you can rest easy I won't need you in the tunnels any time soon." Speaking of, the bruise today seemed more noticeable than it did on Saturday, which... didn't make sense. Or maybe she was mis-remembering things. When it seemed he was done she leaned back a bit, bringing her face away from his hands (she couldn't imagine any guy would really appreciate playing the nurse), and letting her hair fall back. "Did the girl ever find her brother?" It should have been her response when he first mentioned it on Saturday, but she had been to preoccupied imposing frustrations with her own brother's Hero Complex thing than actually asking.

Though she continued to pull away, she didn't seem as disgusted this time, so Dodge let that glimmer of hope shine just a tiny bit brighter. Smiling at her, he lifted the fedora off his head to run a hand through his hair before resettling the fedora on his head. "Haven't found him yet," he explained, fidgeting with the end of his tie a little. "But then again, I've been looking for him for a while now, almost as long as I've known her. He's a little more than your standard missing person, he's almost vanished." Or Maddy's brother had just left town, but Dodge didn't have the heart to suggest that to his friend.

Evelyn frowned at that, absently playing with her scarf, "I hope not." People disappearing -- not dying, not moving away, but disappearing -- was always a subject that she found unnerving. It was something that it seemed no matter of preparation or self-defense could stop... and it seemed it could happen to anybody. And the idea of it happening to a family member... just thinking about it was painful. The sharp guilt of her recent decisions -- the knowledge that she'd been an awful daughter, horrible sister, and even shittier aunt -- stung her even more than usual. She hadn't been pushing away, and now straight out hurting, just anybody; she had been hurting people she cared about -- people she cared the most about.

Dodge continued to smile, this time reaching out for her gloved hand that was playing with her scarf and holding it in his. "I'm sure it's fine, sometimes people just don't want to be found. But we'll find him." The look on her face though led him to believe she wasn't just worried about Maddy though. "Is everything alright with you Evie? Mugging aside of course. You seem like something's laying heavy on your mind. Like why are you still all bundled up?" With that he tugged on her glove a little, starting to pull it off.

"I don't think it's really a mugging if nothing gets stolen in the end," she muttered. At least that was the viewpoint she trying to adopt. Because, in the end, nothing had really happened. She had come out with minor cuts, definite bruising, and a wrist that hurt painfully but wasn't broken. But people in the city got hurt everyday -- in the past week she had talked to three black eyes alone. And she knew there were plenty of people who she didn't talk to that went through worse. Heck, the guy hadn't been able to take a single penny from her, much less anything even more traumatic... or her life. She was lucky, all things considered. She really had no right to play a victim and stay cooped in her apartment and get Dodge to play a nurse for her.

She pulled her hand away, in a fairly gentle manner that achieved the goal of keeping her gloves on. And she couldn't help eyeing him warily, because honestly? Dodge wasn't her first choice for a confidant -- hell, he wouldn't have even made the list. It wasn't anything personal against him, it was just... growing up she'd always had her sisters, or her brother, or her parents, or her childhood friends to get comfortable with. And, even if she had always been stubborn about doing things herself and not prone to admitting fears and weaknesses straight out, she had always had somebody to talk to. Always. But that had changed when she start telling those people only about one aspect of her life and lying about the other... which transformed into lying about everything, just about. And now the only people who even knew about both Evelyn and 'Amelia' were a drug-dealing in-and-out roommate, a best friend she could barely get past small talk with anymore, and... Dodge. But, he had kept her secret, and was turning into a useful friend, so...

Evelyn gave a small shrug, "With the ball coming suddenly, I had to bail on Jesse and my niece." She flash another wry smile, "He... didn't appreciate it." It wasn't the whole story, and it was told in a manner that suggested it didn't bother her nearly as much as she did. And it wasn't something she'd normally admit. But... with lying to everyone else and forcing herself into a lonely corner... things had been getting to her.

Dodge's smile faded a little. "No, it's not really a mugging, it's more like an attack." That worried him more, and so did her not taking off the scarf and gloves. How battered was she? He let that slide away though when she started talking again. "I imagine he wasn't happy, he's pretty protective of his little girl if I remember right. But you explained you had work right? He had to have understood that right?" Dodge didn't understand working, but he got how it took priority over things.

She was quiet for a long moment, at least a moment that felt long to her. No, Jesse had very much not known she had been working. She seriously considered just dropping the subject and letting Dodge think Jesse had known; that it was her brother that was being unreasonable and not her for lying and then getting caught in it. Evelyn was very aware of her flaws, and mistakes, and the wrong decisions she had made... but that didn't mean she was prone to sharing them with others. But lying and manipulation, even thought she excelled at it when she put in the effort, were things that ate at her overtime. "No," she started slowly, keeping her voice very even although internally she was gnashing teeth, "Jesse... doesn't know about me working the Drake at all." She had no desire to get into how she got herself into such a fiasco in the first place though. Pushing her chair back to stand up, Evelyn went about the task of collecting the first aid supplies on the table and putting them back into the bag. "I told him I was sick," she finally finished as she neared the end of her task.

"So that's why you're Amelia at work," he mused, but also reminding her that he knew her little secret. Not in a bad way, but in a way that meant he realized how much she'd told him, and that he still planned to keep it to himself. "Evie, stop." Dodge was on his feet not long after she was on hers, reaching for her hands to pull her away from the task. "Please, just stop for a moment and explain." Concern was written all over Dodge's face, but so was understanding. Not telling someone like Jesse you'd gotten yourself in deep at the mob's favorite hangout was probably the smartest course of action yes, but that wasn't necessarily the only reason she was keeping it to herself. "Please princess," he told her again, softer this time.

If she had thought about it, she would've realized the 'princess' moniker was fairly new. But Dodge had often addressed her -- and others, he was a terrible flirt after all -- as 'love' and 'my fair lady' and the like that 'princess' seemed to fit right in. But the tone had bothered her, as did his increasing inclination towards physical contact. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her, but he seemed more prone towards touching than she remembered. She had tolerated his flirtation when he was a cheeky and harmless, if annoying, twelve- or thirteen- or fourteen-year-old (she didn't know his age).

But now Evelyn was starting to suspect, as she slid the bags towards her and pulled her hands away as his came near, that she had been let him get used to getting away with too much. "Explain what?" her tone was suspicious, and wary. Her reasons for going by Amelia? For working at the Drake? For not telling her family? There was a lot of explaining she could've done, although not all of it she could've adequately explained to herself. And even if she knew her reasons for everything in this mess, she wasn't the type to readily divulge such details. She understood the concern for the bruise -- had she seen such a bruise on a mere acquaintance she would've been concerned -- but she didn't really get why he was being so nosy about the other stuff.

"Whatever it is that's obviously bothering you, besides me being here." Dodge's voice held no accusation, no fear, just concern. "Besides Jesse being mad at you because you haven't told him where you work or you pissed him off or whatever." Why you're keeping secrets from everyone. Dodge was still fighting the urge to hold on to her and reassure her everything would work out fine in the end, but she continued to pulled away from him.

"Dodge," an unwanted pleading tone had slipped through, "in about the past twenty-four hours I've managed to get Jesse more upset--" although 'pissed' and 'disappointed' where a better fit, "--than he's ever been. And then I nearly got mugged afterward because I pulled a smart move by falling asleep on a bus." In the middle there her tone had slipped further towards defensive or tired -- Evelyn couldn't tell which -- so she punctuated it with a wry and half-joking smile. But seriously? the fact she had fallen asleep in such a sketchy location at such a dangerous hour was yet another thing that unnerved her. She hadn't been able to get a decent night's sleep the past week, but she had let herself drift off a bus, at night, that cut through a rough part of town? Had Dutch not appeared, she could have paid for that mistake with her life.

And, despite all the turmoil that had been wracking it lately, she had always preferred living. Even in her darker moments she hadn't never steered towards suicidal -- it was why she hadn't poured a drink that she was very much feeling. She had been under the effects of sedatives and painkillers throughout the day; and Evelyn had no intention of slipping into another stupid mistake. The bag was pulled off the table and nestled in her left arm, and she started back towards the bathroom.

Dodge was a little shocked, but not at what happened, more at her tone. Evie was always cool and collected and now here she was battered, bruised and unprotected. He moved quickly to catch up with her, taking the bag from her again and setting it on the floor. Putting a hand on either shoulder he ducked a little so he could see her from under the brim of his hat. "I'm not letting you do anything else for yourself. You're gonna lie down and rest, and I'm staying here as long as I have to so that I know you're taken care of."

She glared at him, "It's my apartment." Not his to boss her around in -- not that his tone was especially bossy. But, despite her response, the glare proved short-lived and she relented a bit. Arguing it just took energy that was better served deflecting questions on things she didn't feel like talking about. And for all her self-sufficiency and moving away Evelyn wasn't used to being alone. Being the youngest of five meant her whole life there had always been somebody (usually somebodies) there to bother her, or help her when she needed it even when she said she didn't, or talk to her at any hour of the day. It meant there was little privacy and less quiet, yes, but it also meant there was somebody there to stop her from musing for too long and overthinking herself sick. While she had three roommates, and she got along with them, and she also got along with and would go out with other girls in the building, it wasn't quite the same. And after a lifetime of what she was used to, well... she wasn't quite so prone to kick Dodge out at the moment, despite the extra stress.

Evelyn walked over to the other side of the common room to turn up the radio a notch, and then she made her way to the small sofa. She stepped out of her pumps and removed her coat; it was still missing a button from last night, so she had worn a sweater beneath it that she still kept on. The scarf and gloves stayed in place however, and she draped the coat over the arm of the sofa and gently sank into the cushion. She wasn't lying down though, merely leaning against the corner as she tried to tune into the radio program.

Dodge assumed that since she didn't strictly kick him out, meant that she was agreeing with him, even if she wasn't actually agreeing. Picking up the bag, he put it back on the table, folding back up the chairs and setting them with the original stack. "Do you need anything?" he asked moving towards the kitchen area to retrieve the glass of water she had earlier and handing it back to her. Along the way he picked up a spare book that had been left on the small table next to the large chair, turning it so he could read the spine. "Here," he handed her the glass.

Evelyn took the glass, tilting it towards her mouth for a small sip and then bringing it back down to her lap; now that his interest was partly caught by the book, she relaxed a bit further into the chair. But she still tracked him with her eyes -- because she just couldn't relax completely. She was tired, yes, but being tired didn't mean she could relax. Zhen had a valid point last week, relaxing just wasn't something that came easy to her. She just had to do something, and when she wasn't doing something it didn't mean her mind wasn't running. She kept silent as he picked up the book -- it had appeared in the apartment about a month ago, probably left behind by someone, and occasionally flipped through and moved and re-moved around the common room since then.

But with her sitting down and mind running, she reallized something she hadn't thought about before and frowned, puzzled. "Where did you learn to read?" He'd been able to read for as long as she knew him, but he'd also been very straight-forward about not being the school type. As far as she knew he hadn't been to school before -- although she was realizing she really didn't know that much about Dodge -- and literacy wasn't a typical skill out on the streets.

Dodge hadn't sat down yet, assuming she'd ask for something that he'd need to get, but when she asked about him he shifted to sit in the large chair, sitting on the edge of the chair, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Patrick taught me. When I was like...ten or so? He said it was important, that I should know how to read because it could always come in handy." Dodge smiled, thinking back on happier moments with the man who haunted him. "It was funny because he'd only ever read one book in his life, Oliver Twist, but he read the paper every day." Things had made sense then, when it was just the two of them. At time Dodge had wondered if that's what it would have been like to have a parent, and he'd hoped that Patrick would adopt him. Funny how much one's opinion of someone can change. A slight chill ran down his spine, but he managed to fight the urge to look over his shoulder knowing well enough that nothing was there.

She had heard Patrick mentioned before, but otherwise not much about him. Although she was pretty sure the last time she'd heard his name, the present tense had been used. At that her frown deepened, "Read?" She asked the question indirectly, emphasizing the tense Dodge had used rather than asking 'What happened?' straight-out.

Dodge hadn't realized that he'd dropped his eyes to the book in his hands, or that his grip on it had tightened. The Patrick situation wasn't an easy topic for him, despite most people knowing. Actually in some ways he was surprised Evie didn't know, but then she'd left that part of town long before it happened. "Read, he's no longer with us." Dodge looked up, realizing that he should probably explain. "You know he started the group right? My group? It was his idea. He was our Fagin," Dodge started, assuming she'd read Oliver Twist. "He betrayed us, and I saw to it that he didn't come back." It wasn't the whole story, but it was explanation enough.

She really hadn't known any of that. She had spent most of her encounters with Dodge trying to discourage his cheeky flirting, or rolling her eyes when she couldn't, or trying to keep him and his gang away from the grocer's inventory (and wasn't always successful), or otherwise just try to ignore their pestering when she was busy... none of which left room for revealing personal discussion. And when the days were slow and she was bored and actually did engage in an actual chat with the kid it had never been anything particularly note-worthy: she honestly couldn't remember what they had even talked about. The frown hadn't gone away, and his reaction had troubled her, but she didn't ask any further -- if he had wanted to explain than he would have, in her opinion. She may not be always successful, but Evelyn tried not to be a hypocrite: she worked to keep her personal troubles her own, and she wasn't going to pry unwanted into somebody else's.

Curbing her curiosity on the subject, she shifted the topic slightly, "I had thought 'Dodge' and the 'Artful Dodger' an odd coincidence." She had read the book for school and it certainly wasn't her favorite. While she had little liking for most of the characters, Oliver had annoyed her the most -- not in his innocence, but his utter passiveness about everything. "But I think you've got a couple legs up in character over him," she added, bringing her feet up on the couch and leaning her head back to rest against the wall behind her. From what she recalled, the Dodger had been a pretty rotten piece of work. But Dodge, for all his cocky airs and cheeky persistence and occasional invasiveness, had always come off as an alright (if not good per se) kind of kid.

Dodge smiled at the mention of his name. "No, it was intentional. Sometimes I wonder how much of it was me or how much of it was Patrick's convincing me that I was the Artful Dodger." The smirk was growing, obviously Dodge enjoyed the stories of his namesake. "And Dodger wasn't that bad off, he just...didn't see the wrong in what he did. Steal from those who have too much. I can understand that."

"You would," some bemusement creeping into her tone. Though she had never inclined towards it and tried discouraging it when possible, pickpocketing and minor crime wasn't something she had a real problem with -- growing up her brother had often brought home food and money and gifts that he had 'bought' or 'been given'. Although it had been many years since she had read the book, she recalled being rather unimpressed with the Dodger's manipulative nature and quickness to turn tail when the main character got caught for his crime. "I dunno," she murmured, bringing her right arm up on the armrest and carefully resting her chin atop it, "I thought him manipulative, and he just... ran off and let Oliver -- who was completely unaware -- take the fall for him." Even though it had bent horribly recently, Evelyn still had a strong sense of personal responsibility -- at least in the sense of, if you made a mistake, you shouldn't drag others into it with you.

"You make a good point. I still stand behind the fact though, that he should have taught Oliver better. The big mistake was keeping the kid in the dark. As a leader like that, you can't get caught, but you don't have to have your kids take the blame." Dodge leaned back a little, enjoying explaining his way of life, just like Angelo had said he might. Where he differed from the Dodger was also in how his kids would have handled the situation when it came to him. More than once his boys have carried him off from trouble, leaving one of them to take a punch or some sort of blame. Dodge was their leader, and they were willing to whatever necessary to protect him, even if he didn't want them too. "Oliver should have known to run, or at least known what he was getting himself into. But it did sort of all work out for him in the end."

"'Your kids'," she repeated, "I didn't realize you were such a parent." It came off as slightly teasing as she kept her voice soft, trying to force a calmness she didn't truly feel. Although the conversation helped, engaging her mind in a subject that, thus far, wasn't proving stressful. His presence and questioning may have been irksome earlier, but a part of her was starting to feel grateful to have somebody there now. All three roommates were out: two was working and the girl Evelyn actually roomed with was off to wherever the girl went off to. One of the other girls, seeing the state she was in, had offered to stay with her for the day but Evelyn had refused, she wasn't going to let anyone miss work for her.

Dodge laughed a little. "I wouldn't call myself a parent. Most of my kids' parents abandoned them or died or worse. I'm just...their leader. Someone they can rely on, more than the adults. Even though I guess these days I'm not far from being one of the adults." Leaning back he tucked his arms behind his head. "I guess that's good for them though, gives 'um proof that someone can trust adults right?" Dodge smiled that knowing little grin. As much work as his kids were, he loved them.

"My my, such a hurry to grow up?" Evelyn clicked her tongue lightly as she teased, "Careful, it might not be all it's cracked up to be -- you don't get away with nearly as much once you're not a kid -- trust me." She took another sip from the glass in her hand and shifted a bit on the sofa, recalliing how young he'd been when she first met him. While 'adult' wasn't really what crossed her mind when she thought about Dodge, comparing him now to then... he'd certainly grown since then, definitely gotten taller at least... and that recollection made her feel old. Not particularly liking that feeling, Evelyn shook it off and placed the glass atop the small table between the chair and sofa. "Well," she smiling a bit warmly as she again focused on him, "you'll always be that sneaky little kid to me." There was a fond teasing there, but nothing in the way of condescension.

"Not in a hurry, no need to rush it. Plus I can't blame them about the whole not trusting adults, I've had a few screw me over more than once." Especially the last one. The betrayal from Patrick had been almost earth shattering to Dodge. Leaning forward in the chair again, Dodge shifted closer to her. "I told you earlier, I'm not really a little kid anymore. You're going to see that eventually."

"Well, maybe not a 'little' kid..." she would have grinned, but the fact was that all the troubles of last night... last week... the last months still bore down on the back of her mind, even as it was distracted by the conversation. And the small, but warm, smile she'd had on drifted off into a frown. She had always known life was hard for a street kid; the less you had in this city the harder others tried to squeeze it out of you, it seemed. And the street kids? The often had teh least. But, even though she had always known Dodge was a street kid, she'd never stopped and considered life being hard for him as well... he'd always paraded about like a prince after all.

"Well, once people sense they've got some kind of advantage,, they're more likely to press it than not." The smile this time tasted bitter and was short-lived. Really, Evelyn suspected people were prone to be as cruel as they could get away with. She hadn't always had such a cynical viewpoint; before she had felt disappointed with herself and circumstances in general, yes, but not mankind as a whole. And she wasn't so jaded to blanket that philosophy to the entire population. But she'd experienced and seen enough to know that it was wiser not to give away the better hand, or show when you had a poor one. She had always been reluctant to display her weaknesses, but it was only recently that Evelyn discovered the usefulness of that.

"Not a kid," Dodge pointed out again. "You'll see." He watched her though, when her tone changed. In some way she was right, most people couldn't be trusted straight off the bat, but people weren't as bad as she said. It hurt Dodge some for her to hear her sound so short on people, he wanted her to be above that. "Not all people are trying to take advantage. I'm not."

"Hmm..." She wasn't disagreeing with him, but the answer was noncommittal as she went back to resting her chin upon her arm. She knew there were good people; after all, she had grown up in an incredibly loving home comprised of good people. Even her brother, with all his evasive 'jobs', had a noble heart in Evelyn's opinion. And maybe that was why she was so aware of the injustices and small crimes people commited against each other so often. "No, not all people," she finally sighed. "But... power corrupts," a wry smile touched her expression, "For some people with good intentions it might take ruling an empire... but for others it may just take having power over one person." And it wasn't just from her own experience working for the lawyer that she was drawing; it was from observing the interactions at work -- those between the guests and staff, between the supervisors and their employees, between a prominent guest and a 'less' important one. And from the conversations between the Family types when they got careless and discussed business in a code they assumed she hadn't deciphered as she carried their dishes to the private dining rooms.

"But," realizing that her tone had gone somber she perked it up a bit, "I suppose there are also the uncorruptible people out there as well." She thought back to Jackson, whose business card was still in her nightstand drawer just in case, and his definite case of Straight and Narrow... and she suspected that being unyieldingly incorruptible may not always be so preferred.

Dodge frowned, his own cynical attitude starting to surface. "I wouldn't go as far as to say there are incorruptible people, but there are some who are less likely to fall into the trap. Anyone can be corrupted because everyone has weaknesses." That was just common law, especially on the streets. Whatever weaknesses you had, you kept those cards close. Even Dodge, who's biggest weakness was the group of boys who trailed behind them, had to play the merciless leader once in a while to make sure he and they stayed where they were in the game of life.

"Power's funny like that Evie," Dodge started, dropping his eyes from hers. "True it does weird things to people, but it's still necessary. You still need it to get by in this world." He thought again about his own Empire, the respect he'd garnered and the way the people in that part of the city looked to him to bring about justice. "It's not having it, it's how you use it. It can be used for good. I've seen it done."

"You're right," she smiled reassuringly at him, wanting to close a subject that wasn't so de-stressing as the ones previous. But he was right that power was needed to get by in the world, because being powerless was... dangerous. She had thought she felt it a couple months ago, and then a couple years previously when she realized she wasn't getting out of this city for college anytime soon, but she was wrong. Because even throughout those times she had always sense that there was some kind of out, even if she didn't know it; and she felt that if she was clever, and diligent, and alert, and worked hard enough she would find it. But last night... it didn't matter how clever or how strong she or how determined she was to get away... still it had all amounted to that awful feeling of having the life seemingly crushed out of her and the complete despair of knowing all her fighting was ineffective -- feeling truly powerless. And that recollection brought forth a shiver that she wasn't entirely able to suppress, but caught a hold of enough to quickly play it off as cold -- even if the heater was next to her behind the table.

"I'm going to get a blanket," she brought her feet back to the ground and used her left arm to push up off the sofa.

"You're not, no." Dodge was on his feet again, pushing Evelyn gently back on the sofa. "I'll get it for you, just tell me where to go." The woman did not listen at all. He'd told her she wasn't supposed to get up, and here she was, trying again.

"Dodge, I'm just walking to my room, not down the street, to get a blanket," and maybe take a sedative or whatever because she could kinda use one as her mind was churning with nonstop thoughts again. "And you're not going in there: it's my room and it's a mess right now anyway." She usually kept it neat, but as of right now her side of the bed was unmade and had the shirt Dutch gave her thrown atop of it while her shirt and skirt from last night were crumpled on the floor by the foot of the bed. The skirt was still wearable, but she should've thrown the shirt away. She just... hadn't gotten around to it. She hadn't gotten around to much of anything throughout the day other than getting more painkillers and first aid supplies. While she wasn't prone to letting anyone into her room on a normal day, she really didn't want somebody walking in now. Having brought her hands up to pull Dodge's hands away, she again went about pushing herself off the sofa.

"Sit, princess," Dodge pleaded and moved away from the couch, intent on getting to her bedroom before she could, which was easy because he was in better shape than she was. He crossed the room and ducked into the bedroom, able to guess which side was hers mostly by sheer luck, although he did recognize the skirt from work, piled on the floor. He grabbed the blanket folded at the end of the bed, but paused when he noticed the man's shirt on the bed. An image of the flowers flashed back in his mind, and he looked over his shoulder at the doorway back to the common room. She hadn't mentioned a boyfriend, but it wasn't an entirely unlikely scenario. She was beautiful after all. Slightly hurt, he left the shirt where it was, tucking the blanket under an arm and headed out, closing the door behind him. "Here," he said as he offered the blanket to her.

"Dodge, don't!" She started after him, feeling like she did when Dorothy discovered a note from a crush in between a notebook and ran off with it towards the living room to singsong "Evie's got a boyfriend~!" to the rest of the family. A younger Evelyn then had caught up with her sister in the hallway where their wrestling attracted the family's attention and the stupid note got not read to everyone anyways (she hadn't talked to Dorothy for a week). This kind of reminded her of that, except Dodge was too quick to catch up to and at least he was trying to help, if being pushy about it, and not yelling her secrets down the hall. But that didn't spare him an annoyed glare as she took the blanket from him. "Dodge," she sighed softly, releasing him from the glare, "I appreciate the thought -- I do, and thank you ...but I wasn't going to break getting the blanket."

"Right, I'm sure you would have been fine." Perhaps he was more than hurt. Stopping in front of the roses he reached out, fingering the silky petals of one. She'd tried to stop him, calling out like that. She hadn't wanted him in her room, probably because she knew he'd find the shirt, then he'd know. Mere moments ago he'd wanted nothing more than to stay here with her all night and now he wanted to leave without saying good bye. How could he have been so stupid? The frustration showed on his face even though he couldn't look at her.

Evelyn paused, holding the blanket in her hands as she watched Dodge, worried. He looked as if his feelings had been hurt, and apologetic guilt replaced her earlier attitude -- she hadn't meant to come off so harshly. "Dodge?" Her voice was soft, concerned, the annoyance from a moment ago taken out of it. When he didn't look at her, she took a step closer to the table, placing the blanket atop it as she tried to angle her head into his view. "Dodge? Look at me." She frowned; he was obviously upset about something that he hadn't been upset about before. And she started to wonder if it wasn't her reaction that had set him off -- after all, she had been even more difficult with him earlier and he had seemed not at all phased about it. "What's wrong?"

But an idea formed in her head, piecing together what could've gotten him upset. She took a small step back, "Is it the shirt?" Her tone was curious but cautious, tip-toeing, really. She wasn't looking forward to explaining how the blood on it wasn't hers oran how she greatly understated her encounter last night, and how she had stabbed a guy who was trying to take a lot more than money from her.

He'd turned his head when she leaned in closer. It was a childish move, but maybe she was right and he was only a child. Stupid, he really had been just stupid. "You could have just said something," he told her when she asked about the shirt, assuming she meant the man's shirt draped across her bed. "You could have told me a while back, told me the truth Evie, instead of feeding me lines about how I was just a kid and work and everything else." He was hurt, that much was more than obvious now from his tone. He felt betrayed again. Looking up at her slightly this time, he couldn't shake the pain in his eyes no matter how much he wanted to. "You just say 'hey, Dodge, there's someone else' and I would have known." He may not have backed off, but he might not have gotten his heart as invested. "I should go," he told her, turning away and moving to gather his umbrella.

Normally Evelyn was observant, but keeping a cool head about everything was hard to do when someone she was considering a friend had seen her shirt all torn and bloodied from last night's encounter and was now getting upset at her about it. At least, that was how Dodge's intitial answer seemed and that fact seized hold of her in a manner that sent her walking across the room and away from Dodge because she very much worried she would throw something hard at him, or hit him, or do some other thing that was similarly violent and out of character for her. She was speechless, really, that he had seen the evidence of what had clearly been a terrible night and only seemed concerned that she hadn't wanted to share that little horror with him. So she had walked over to the side table to grab her glass, mouth stretched in a very thin line, and bring it over the the kitchenette area. She was angry and hurt by how completely off his response was -- that, unfortunately, her internal fuming distracted her from catching a large part of (what she thought was) the bullshit that Dodge was putting out. At least, she had heard what he said, and gotten that it made very little sense, but wasn't in a spectacular state of deciphering whatever the hell he had meant at the moment.

"So let me get this straight," she turned around towards him, taking a step away from the counter and fixing him with an angry 'Are you kidding me?' stare, "You're upset -- with me -- because... what? Because I didn't want to... share all the little details?!" She wasn't yelling, but her pitch had had risen higher and unsteadily and as a very stressed and upset and raw-feeling Evelyn was torn between screaming into a pillow and hysterical laughter at the bad joke that was her 'friend' apparently caring more about her not telling him or whatever than the fact she'd nearly gotten killed.

"You didn't want to share the details Evie? Seriously? That's how you see it?" How could she not understand why he was upset. She could just said she had boyfriend instead of leading him around like she had. Turning around he moved towards her, pulling himself up to his full height. "I'm sorry you seemed to have missed the part where I'm absolutely crazy about you and all this time you've had a boyfriend, you just what? Forgot to tell me about?"

She was paler than usual and livid, and about to tell him to get the hell out as he walked towards her. But some of that livid edge fell away as she became confused as all fuck about what he said. "Wha--'boyfriend'? What the hell are you going on about?" Oh, she was all kinds of angry confused. But the confusion took some of the livid edge out of her expression. Her nerves were still all kind of raw and riled up that anger seemed the best option to go with. And her eyes narrowed up at him -- serving the double purpose of glaring and eying him as if some Major Clue she had missed to this conversation was written across his forehead. And she had caught the 'crazy about you part', but was really too concerned with first figuring out what he was talking about before she could actually go to processing it.

"The roses, the guy's shirt sitting on your bed? What else is that supposed to mean?" Dodge was hurt, and even the anger in his voice couldn't cover it up. "Look just, forget it. I'm going home." Dodge didn't turn right away, he hesitated, almost as if waiting for her to stop him.

'The guy's shirt...?' While she had realized that they had somehow gotten onto completely different subjects, she had still been utterly confused as to how that had happened. But his response had held that Major Clue she had needed to piece the whole thing together. Her brow furrowed -- this was a hell of a mess. The hurt in his voice, that had made her so furious when she thought it had been directed towards her not talking about the mugging, only served to worry her and make her cautious now that she knew the meaning behind it -- which was also a whole other mess to deal with. She let out a small sigh to keep her voice calm because her nerves were still very raw from earlier, and made sure to speak very clearly:

"Dodge, listen to me, " she fixed her gaze squarely into his, "it is not... remotely what you think. The shirt and the roses? Are completely unrelated. And neither came from any boyfriend." The nerves caused her voice to waver a bit, and if she had been given the night to think it over, then she most likely would've determined letting him think she had a boyfriend was for the best. But right now she was feeling high-strung despite her forced calmness, and there just seemed to be too many issues to sort through and that couldn't be dealt with until the miscommunication had been cleared. But mostly? Evelyn did not enjoy being thought a liar by one of the very few people in this city she actually hadn't lied to recently.

Dodge didn't answer, he just watched her closely reading her eyes to make sure she was telling the truth. He wanted to believe her, that much was certain, but he was also wary. She'd already told him she'd been lying about a few things in her life, it wasn't a far jump to assume she might be lying again. After a moment, what he wanted won out over his suspicions. "Really?"

"Yes, really," she kept her tone matter-of-fact, arms crossed lightly and eyes fixed on him, wary of over-emphasizing the 'no boyfriend' thing. She wanted to be especially cautious at the moment now that Dodge's feelings were especially clear -- she honestly hadn't suspected before. He was a teenage boy, if cockier and cleverer than most, and in that hormonal-driven adolescent stage; his persistent flirting had been at times annoying but she figured harmless overall. But clearly she had figured had been wrong. And now she trod carefully around that point as she tried to figure out what to do. There was too much to sort through and she wouldn't be able to do that with Dodge there; but she had no idea if she should get him to leave now, or try to clear some of the air and possibly make things worse.

She took a small breath as she took one last second to consider her words, "The man... who helped me out with the mugging... he lived nearby." She gave a small shrug, "He gave a shirt of his, since... mine got dirty."

His answers were still slow, still processing the information and still trying to get his thoughts in the right place. "Dirty?" he finally asked, as if he needed some sort of clarification when really it was the only thing he could latch on to.

She fidgeted. "Yeah, just... dirty," her gaze broke off to a spot beyond the roses even though she tried to hold it. Going into the details really made her uncomfortable and, with the abuse from recent experiences and the yo-yo-ing emotions, she just couldn't hide it well. She was pretty decent with poker faces when she tried, but thinking about last night... she wasn't sure if she could've held it even if she had been in her usual spirits -- and right now she definitely wasn't. She would've preferred to leave it at that, but he had already asked her to clarify. She didn't want to, but she supposed she couldn't blame him. Her explanations had probably been patchy at best, her thoughts, no longer able to focus fully on one thing, were scattered and she had earlier resorted to just talking as if things would make more sense once she heard her own voice... she didn't think that method was proving successful, but who knew how long it'd take to speak if she waited for the thoughts to make sense...

She flicked her eyes back to him, only this time employing the trick of focusing between his eyes instead of on them, "Just..." another shrug, "... it got dirty, and a bit torn." And stained with someone else's blood -- she found that more unnerving than had it been her own... although she probably would've thought the opposite had that been the case. "A man helped me -- called a cab, got my money back, gave me a clean shirt."

It wasn't lost on Dodge that she was avoiding his gaze, that she was more scattered than usual, but he didn't realize how deep the anxiety ran. After a moment of just watching her, he reached out for her, forcing her to let him drag her in close and hold on to her. "I'm sorry Evie. I really am." In his mind he was already wishing he knew who had done this to her, and what sort of revenge he'd take out on them when he found them.

She didn't pull away immediately, but she didn't relax either. Pulling away and keeping the boundaries clear and uncrossed required an effort of its own, but she was incredibly wary relaxing could encourage what had already become an awkward enough situation when she was unaware. Of course, there was always inherent danger in an indecisive limbo as well, but the little part of her mind that still held onto calm objectivity felt that making decisions was better left for when she didn't feel so... exhausted and raw. "I'm going to go to bed," she finally murmured, not bothering to hide how tired she felt; she took a small step back and forced her gaze to make eye contact, "you can see yourself out?"

Dodge didn't want to let her go, but he knew she'd want her space. "I can do that," he told her, leaning in to press a small kiss against her forehead. "Rest well princess," he whispered against her head and then pulled back. Moving smoothly as ever he backed up, righting his hat and turning smoothly. He paused at the door, looking at her once again and then he left.

She locked the door after him, and made her way to her room. The first thing she did before getting ready was open the nightstand drawer and remove the tin box. Inside were a bunch of pills, the kind of sedatives that required a prescription and a pricey trip to the doctor's. But Evelyn didn't waste money visiting a doctor if she wasn't dying, and she sure as hell wasn't the type to tell some stranger she had trouble sleeping. She tilted her head back and popped a couple into her mouth before closing the bottle and placing it back in the box. As she shoved the box back into the drawer, her attention was caught by the large envelope that didn't just contain last week's wages and tips, but nearly all the money she'd earned over the past couple months. After last night, she was more than aware (almost paranoid), about how easily her money could be taken and just how not a safe place that was. She needed to find something better... maybe go to the bank...

...but she didn't spend too much time thinking about it, because the sedatives had started to work their magic. It had happened quicker than usual, but after last night she had needed them more than ever throughout the day. Evelyn laid her head down, only intending to do so for just a moment (she still had to get undressed and bath and ready for bed), and stared up at the ceiling. Even in this state, her mind didn't shut down; but instead the troubling thoughts just drifted in and out of each other, none of them sticking to anything for too long, and the incoherence of it all made it the next best thing to a blank mind. Her eyes closed -- again just for a moment -- and her breathing softened and slowed. But it had only taken a moment to fall asleep -- still dressed in her sweater, scarf, and gloves, and with her blanket lying on the common room table.