HSU: Brief Improvements
Author: Shaz
Disclaimers: Sit and spin, George.
After: Darry's HSU Zone

~*~*~

"Crow, hand me that mirror."

Sitting in the middle of the four people-- well, one human, one mutant, one demon and one elf-- the Bot frowned. "Uh, boss, you're sure?"

Shana pointed a finger towards her secretary. "Mirror."

"Ooookay."

Smiling at Elrond, who was eyeing her suspiciously--absinthe suspiciously, but still-- from his pose on the Louis XIV chair, and taking the mirror, the Ho blinked through freshly fixed eyes and let her jaw drop.

Lorne got up and backed away, heading towards the door. "Now, cupcake, kitten, sweetie-poo, I thought it was for the best..."

"What the HELL happened to my hair?!"

There was a mild cough from the chair as Elrond paused his Absinthe drinking to comment. "It's very fetching, actually."

Her usually auburn hair now a very deep brown, Shana growled. "Okay, so what's wrong with red?"

Lorne shrugged deferentially. "So 20th century. Brunettes have more fun now."

Crow, meandering carefully towards the front of the TV and sitting next to the man busily ignoring the turn of conversation by playing XBox-- sound on-- he gulped. "Cyke?"

Scott paused the game grudgingly. "Yes, Crow?"

"So you can hear again?"

"Working on not overhearing nor getting involved in the current conversation, but yes."

Crow snorted. "You live in the same flop?"

Scott unpaused the game and went back to shooting ships. "Yep."

"Huh."

"And we won't discuss how I got the cure and Lorne didn't. Ever."

The Bot opened his bowling pin mouth, thought about the implications, and promptly closed it. "No, no I won't. And let's keep it that way."

"Fine by me--" a squeak from Lorne interrupted the sentence and the mutant smiled slightly. "-- and ah, it's time to get rid of the demon. I knew he'd pay for the 'oh, it's a special new conditioner' deal."

"--And you will kindly fix it, or I'll make your horns Incitatus' chew toys!"

Elrond's voice cut through the scuffle, setting a hand down firmly on Shana's shoulder as she dragged Lorne, prairie skirts and all, across the room towards the bathroom. "Now, that's rather rash. He was only doing what he thought was best."

"Oh," was the growled response, "and I suppose if he suggested a bowl cut and dreads for you, you'd be fine with it. Rasta Elf."

The elf seemed to mull his answer, then, shaking his head at the demon, shrugged. "Maybe you should have told her."

"Winter is for dark colours! That troublemaker red-- though I adore it like a strawberry margarita-- is just wrong right now, and knowing that a keen sense of style is important I thought--"

"Skip ahead."

"I thought that you would appreciate the fact that--"

Shana tapped a foot, using her restored sight to level an icy glare. "Skip ahead."

"Okay, okay, so I made a mistake. It'll wash out, just a temp dye."

"Lorne?"

The Host tugged at the manicured hand latched around his lacy collar. "Yes, my cinnamon bun?"

"Get out now and I'll forgive you. Eventually."

Stepping back as her hand released him, Lorne bowed lightly. "Yes, my Devi, my Kali Ma, my Durga. Your very wish is music to my ears."

And then he darted out of the flat before a stiletto could wing him in the head.

Crossing to the couch and sitting down in front of Scott, leaning on his head to study the carnage the chain gun was wreaking, Shana sighed. "At least I can see again."

"Yep. Nice to have you not running into me anymore."

"That was not," she whacked him in the back of the head and went back to leaning on him, "accidental, and you know it."

Elrond cleared his throat behind the couch, arching his eyebrow at the dwindling crowd. "I think I'll retire to the greenhouse before I can no longer walk."

Shana waved over the couch. "I'll be over later."

Crow shuddered as he tried to ignore the obvious. "God, for a bar of soap to clean out the memories of this night..."

Scott nodded shortly.

With a shrug, Elrond emptied the glass, turned and left. Closing the door behind him softly, he was halfway down the hall to the admin building's exit when the absinthe hit him.

Oh, yeah, the greenhouse would take a while to get to. Three weeks, probably.

The game continued for another five minutes. More chain gun, Crow pointing at the screen and hooting at the flying bodies, Shana watching with a distant stare.

Then the game's volume got turned up.

Shana blinked. Graphics were so good that they were hard to follow.

The volume went up more.

Ten seconds later, waving her hand in front of her face and seeing nothing but black, the Ho sighed.

"Die, ya scurvy wanks! Woooo!"

"Fuck."

Crow looked away from the TV, covering his ears. "Boss?"

"Fuck, I can't see."

"Huh?"

Shana looked down, or as close as she could figure was down. "Scott, tell me you've decided to become a Ring Wraith and wear nothing but black."

"Did you say something? Speak up!"

Crow groaned and stood up. "Hallucinating elf or coiffure happy demon?"

Shana ground her jaw, fuming silently. All that hard fu-- er, work and vision comes back for only an hour? "Fuck."

"WHAT?"

The Bot nodded sagely. "Ah, the elf. I'll brew some coffee for him when I get back."

"Thanks, and tell him he gets to wash my hair back to normal. Fuck."

"WHAT?!"

~*~*~*~