Viv locked her truck as usual. A bar, a bloody bar, the last time she'd gone into a bar, nearly two weeks ago, she'd had a very bad experience. Still this was where the P.I. had said he'd meet her. She had her 357 sig concealed on her person. Bars were someplace to be extra cautious now.

She was wearing dark blue carpenter jeans and a loose fitting flannel shirt untucked. The flannel was a blue and grey plaid. She's still been on the chilly side lately even after dealing with her possesion problem. Still the energy spikes hadn't been as abrupt, she was willing to deal with chilly in trade off.

She wasn't sure who she was looking for, but seeing there were only three patrons in the seedy little bar, it wouldn't take her long. She swung her braid back over her shoulder. Likely she was hear to meet the man sitting alone at the bar. The other two men seemed to be playing cards.

She stood for a minute or two in the doorway allowing her eyes to adjust to the dimness in her before stepping forward.

The Fool looks up as he hears the door, pressing the ass-end of his cigarette into the overflowing ashtray on the bar. Looks like he got here just in time. Too bad, he likes to be a few minutes late when meeting a client. It's always useful to be the second one into a room, just in case.

That must be her. She's a tough cookie by the look of it. Packing heat and hiding it well. Has kind of a hardened, frigid thing going on. He gives her a friendly grin when her eyes catch his in the smokey, neon-lit haze.

"Hey, kiddo, have a seat." He pats the (only slightly sticky) stool next to him, plucking a crumpled cigarette box from one of his ragged old trenchcoat's many pockets and deftly flicking a cig into his hand. "Ya smoke?" As he talks, the obese bartender, who distinctly resembles a neanderthal, drops a glass of whiskey in front of him, about half of which sloshes onto the bar top.

"No thank you." she says, all cool politeness. She offers a smile of her own, but it's empty. When the bartender asks her what she's having she simply asks for water. She sits though. The second hand smoke seems to find her repulsive and it curls around and away fron her leaving wide berth.

"I have two things, I'd like done, I'll be direct, it's simply how I am." she explains. "First, there is a woman I'd like followed." she pulls an index card fron her shirt pocket, with a woman's name, a brief description, and the hotel she's supposed to be staying at. If you can find out where the woman is hiding her baby, it's worth extra, but first and foremost, I want her followed. I want details of her activities, where she spends money, what atm's she uses, does she pick her nose at red lights, I want it all." She stops and sips the luke warm water she's been served.

Then she resumes. "Second, the hard job. I need some books recovered, to be specific they're grimoires. They belonged to my father and they've been hidden somewhere since before he died." She says she takes out another card, this has her father's name and list of his aliases, as well as cities he lived in during the last ten years of his life. It also notates there are seven books. "I need all seven of the books, they're all useless with out the others." she says. "I realize the second may be like finding a needle in a haystack."

Nodding cheerfully at the client as she launches straight into the details of the job, the Fool gives her a closer examination. Tipping back his whiskey, he notes the interesting little number she's using on the smoke before glancing down at the card that's just been slipped into his calloused hand. A quick review, and his genial gaze finds Viv's face again as she drinks. "Simple enough."

His smile grows as soon as the word 'grimores' escapes Viv's lips- but it can't be mistaken for mockery, that's geniune interest glimmering impishly in his eyes. Listening attentively, he chuckles at her last comment. "I know a specialist in the business of finding needles. Close personal friend of mine, I'd trust him with my life." He pauses, smirking a tad. "Have, in fact. Got any problem with a third party?"

"Not if gets the desired result and stays discreet, as you, me, and the third party know, and that is it. The books don't need to fall in any one else's hands, it's vital. I'd rather they were destroyed." she says. Afterall no one really wants the wrong sort of person to have their instruction manuals. She smiles the empty smile at his smirk.

"Sure thing," the Fool replies, resisting the urge to add a 'doll' to the end of that. He gets too into-character sometimes. "I'll expect an up-front when I give ya my first report. Let's say two hundred. Price of the whole thing we'll figure out later, when you've seen what I can do." He flips the card she gave him over and back, glancing down and taking a long drag on his cigarette. "I'm not gonna assume that the number you used before is good." One hand dips into a pocket, and comes out holding a pencil. "Write me down some contact info on here. Got to burn this thing after a bit anyway."

She writes down the number and then reaches into a pocket. Her hand comes out with a large bundle of cash. Two grand in 20's unmarked. "So you understand I'm serious." she says. "Don't forget what I said about the books, if I can't have them all, they need to be destryed." She says it in the same cold tone. Not letting on how desperately she needs those Grimoires, though it should say something she is willing to pay extremely well to recover them.

Pretending, successfully, to be utterly unsurprised, the Fool casually accepts and palms the roll of money, the phone number and his pencil. They disappear immediately into the amorphous, tatty folds of his jacket, never to be seen again.

"Gotcha," he smiles reassuringly. At least, he likes to think it's a reassuring smile. There's actually not that much about the look of him that's reassuring, except maybe his aura of can-do cheerfulness. Sliding from his stool, he downs the last half of his drink and gives Viv a jaunty wink. "That be all?"

(I have to ask, if the money is never seen again, how on earth does he spend it? :P )

"For now yes, should I need to give you further instructions, I trust you'll remain in touch so I can do so." She says coolly. Her gut tells her, he's likely to have sucess with this.

She puts a five on the counter. "If I ever come back, I want some ice cubes, you bloody savage." she says to the bartender before going to the door.