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Should... she be concerned? She wasn't about to try and catch him if he fell. Nope. He had a good solid 50 pounds on her at least, if not more. Instead, she just watched him with trepidation written all over her face. "I think I'm about three months along or so." She started, shifting her eyes elsewhere as he finally sat down. Was there an easier way of discussing the whole 'oh, hey, you're gonna be a dad!' thing?

"Am... I am... Is it."

Okay, even if he was dazed that was no excuse for asking such a thing. She zeroed a biting deadpan expression on him and frowned. "Oh yes, because I'm totally the type of girl who goes out and gets herself knocked up a week before breaking up with her boyfriend." Her expression was venomous for a moment, before relaxing slightly. "... Sorry. Hormones and stupid questions don't get along." Inhaling slowly, she looked away again. "Yes, it's you. Yes, you are... if you want."

".. I found out for certain a week ago... give or take a day... didn't know how to bring it up, but... well, it's kinda your decision too what we should do here on out."

He was the father, and therefore his opinion counted as to what they would do next. If they weren't going to keep it or if they were. If they did, would it be together or apart? SHe needed his help figuring all this @#$% out.

"You are the father, and that means I need to know what you want to do. You've got the same rights I do." She shifted awkwardly in her seat, "I... um.. I also want to apologize for storming off like I did. It was immature. I let my temper get in the way of acting like an adult." Bitterness bloomed in her heart and she frowned again.

"... I don't have the best reputation for dealing with cheating well."

Well, Shelby hadn't pegged herself for the type of person who would ever end up in this position... and yet here she was. Staring down at the phone in her lap, hands clenched in the sheets of bed on either side of her legs. Saph's number glared up at her, rubbing the fact that she hadn't spoken to him in a little more than two months since she ended things with him... Her thoughts shifted back to the last argument she had had with him, the picture evidence of his little affair with that other woman. His poor excuse for not remembering it, and the fact that he had more or less hid the majority of his interactions with that woman from her. 

She'd been cheated on before and had pretty much thickened her skin to it, or.. at least she thought she had. Saph had been different though. He'd been with her through literally the lowest point in her life. She had thought that he was the genuine deal, too. He even had his own relationship pains he had been healing from before she met him. 

... She really thought he may have been just the right match for her, and then he'd gone and  @#$%ed it all up and pushed her away.

Shelby had been content with ending things and never speaking to him again, but... well... she didn't really have a choice in the matter anymore. Steeling her nerves, she picked up her phone and dialed his number, waiting anxiously while it rang as she gnawed on her bottom lip. 

It rang once...

Twice...

... On the third ring, she chickened out and decided to text him instead. 

... Hey, we need to talk. If you can, meet me at the coffee place on 3rd. I'll be there until 4pm.

Having sent the message along, she checked the time, groaned, and forced herself up in order to get ready to leave.

-----

A half an hour later found Shelby sitting and waiting, bundled up against a chill in the air as clouds threatened to rain outside. A steaming cup of something far too hot and too sweet was clutched between her hands. She went over what she wanted to say for the billionth time in her head, repeating the same pre-prepared speech over and over again like a well-versed play... Saph would come in (hopefully), sit, probably stare at her awkwardly with some lame greeting, and she'd drive straight to the point. No need for idle chatter at this point.
 
Well, unless he was mad at her. Or frustrated. Would her speech still work? .., Probably. She'd just have to ignore him.  

The bell over the cafe' door chimed and she jumped in her seat, face whipping in the direction of the door so fast it made her dizzy. She watched a young woman shuffle in and off toward the counter and sighed. 

Shelby was just a big bundle of nerves and anxiety trying to play tough, and she knew it. It didn't help that she felt like hurling, either.

She chuckled slightly, "Yeah, Paris is pretty... but unfortunately filled with other snobby artists are struggling with the language and room n' board. At least here I still have a healthy dose of normal people to scoff at my career and keep me from developing an ego."

She listened to him as he explained his own story. "Oh? I've never been to Virginia. Heard a lot of songs about it, though." Him talking about wanting to be on broadway diverted her attention quickly.

"Are you going through classes for it, or winging it on your own?" She could relate in some ways to the parent comment. Though, her's was more from just needing a bit of space away from her parent's antics for a while than anything else.

"I don't know a whole lot of people in the performance art area, but I do know at least one or two people who might be able to hook you up if you'd like. I went to the University here for my B.F.A degree for a few years."

She'd just finished up her degree outside of the school a few weeks prior and was waiting for her documents in the mail. It was still bittersweet to think about it though... About how only a few months back she'd been in classes, in the dorms with her roommate.

... Everything had changed so fast in such a short amount of time.

Heh... Madame Mocha. Maybe that could be her superhero name

Second thought, ew. Why did that keep creeping into her head? She wasn't going to pretend to be a hero. Not in any fashion. Even though she'd recently discovered that she apparently carried the x-gene, she did not, and would not, allow herself to grow a big fat ego and get herself into trouble. She had enough as it was, and that was pre-power!

"School, of course." She replied while casting a sidelong look at him. "I wasn't impressed with very many of the art schools around my hometown, and I'm too lazy to uproot entirely and head over to Paris or something. New York has some pretty reputable schools, and everyone still pretty much speaks my language... so it was a good compromise."

Out on the street, it was considerably less quite. The road was pack with cars due to some kind of typical traffic jam, and the sidewalk was crowded with people hurrying to and fro from various places.

"You a native here?" She asked back, while carefully maneuvering herself into the foot traffic. The place she liked was just down the street a bit. She often made regular trips there before and after hangings and showings.

She watched the two walked away, before returning to the hunt. It was actually beneficial not having someone following her around the whole time cramping her style and acting like a third wheel. Cole entertained himself, she entertained herself, and everyone still knew he was with her.

She made the rounds through the dance hall, chatting with a few faces she knew and introducing herself to some she didn't. She ended up with a few new perspective clients and managed to hand out quite a few business cards before she ended up switching rooms again. 

The next place she headed for was a smaller room nestled toward the back of the building. It was a smoking room, one set aside specifically for attendees to sample new, exotic cigars and had it's own old fashioned mini bar in one corner. On the way, she ran into an old face she happened to know who as headed in the same direction.

"Well, if it isn't Sir Langley." She sidled up beside him, taking the older gentleman slightly by surprise. "How are you these days, Thomas?"

Once he recovered from the start, the older man adjusted his checkered tie and smiled pleasantly at her. "Oh! Miss Walters, how wonderful to see you." He cleared his throat slightly, before reaching out to place a polite peck on her offered hand. "I am doing just wonderful these days." He offered an arm for her to take, which she politely did. Her running into him would make it seem less like she was wandering around searching for someone. 

She chatted with her somewhat friend casually, making sure to be polite as possible. Thomas may have looked like a kindly old Mr. Rodgers type, but she knew something about him that not many did. Thomas could make people vanish with a snap of his fingers, and ultimately they were never heard from again. She wasn't quite sure if it was due to a mutation of some sort, or if the man just had a wealth of connections. He was kind of a mystery in that way.

Once they entered the room she kept with Thomas, giggling at one of his many jokes. She scanned the room around her on the sly and spotted her target off in one corner with two of his bodyguards and partners in crime. She was careful to actually turn to look at him since she didn't want him knowing she was aware of him just yet. She had to plan how she wanted to go about doing this, especially since Cole was more than a little preoccupied at the moment. 

How long was he going to take anyway? Sure, she'd mock him mercilessly if he showed up comically early... but she'd also surely complain if he took too long. He was the one on the job here, after all. As she wandered over to a few free seats with Thomas and claimed one, she formulated a plan in her head. 

A few minutes later it turned out that she hadn't needed to invest so much thought into a plan at all. Jiro himself appeared at her side, lacking his guards for once. Then again, in the eyes of someone who thought himself an Alpha, she wasn't much of a threat. The blonde turned to look at him while casually crossing one leg over the other. "Oh... Mr. Fujita. How nice to see you again." She kept her expression calm and natural, the same uninterested, yet polite smile he had seen countless times. In focusing strictly on him for the first time that night she noticed something different, and... not entirely good. He had a few new tattoos. Of the ones she could see, there were two brand spanking new dragons inked into the flesh around his face and head. He had shaved completely bald, and space once occupied by hair was now entirely covered with the spiraling body of a silver dragon. 

Jiro had his attention fixed on her, completely ignoring Thomas. He greeted her in Japanese. She replied in kind. It seemed as if he didn't want Thomas to eavesdrop on their conversation. After a very brief conversation, he requested a dance from her. He knew that on some level she couldn't simply refuse him... there was strained tension in the air as her smile shifted into something pinched and irritated. 

She agreed to it in his native language, before accepting his offered hand and leading her from the room while his guards tagged along behind. On the way back into the dance hall she happened to spot Cole, and it appeared as if he were either looking for her, or for Jiro. She didn't make any effort to catch his attention, as it would surely draw the attention of her criminal dance partner as well. She kept up her show of irritation, replying politely in Japanese to all of his questions and statement with short responses. 

About half way through their first dance he broke the polite farce by leaning in and whispering his intentions into her ear. He had a plan it seemed... not a very well thought out one, but a threat with a pinch of blackmail that he felt would win him her affections. The worst part? She had to pretend it actually scared her on some level in order for him to think really had her right where he wanted her. In reality, she could rip his plan part up, down, and sideways. Her lawyer would have laughed right in his face, and her lawyer was a skinny middle-aged human.

Instead, she was forced to let her expression dip into further irritation; brows pinched, eyes narrowed, with a frown on her face. She responded to his demand as he would have expected, with an outright refusal at first. A little game began then, as the music carried on and other dancers churned around them they spat responses back and forth in whispers. She could tell on some level that he was enjoying the thought of backing her into a corner she couldn't escape from. If it were literally anyone else she might have enjoyed it as well, but Jiro Fujita had earned a very special place in her heart. One where she contemplated trapping him in a painting someday with all sorts of nightmares and only visiting to see if he had starved to death yet.

Eventually, she had to concede, but only when she felt it was appropriate. If she gave in too early he might figure out she was acting... if she drew it out too long, he might get fed up ad escalate it. In the end, she gave a tired, irritated sigh and finally agreed to his terms. Just as the dance ended Jiro started to lead her away from the dance floor with a hand on her lower back, while she unclipped her clutch and withdrew her compact from inside. 

She made a show of touching up her lipstick while peering into the mirror, while on the sly trying to scan for where Cole might be. She'd spotted him a few times during that agonizing dance but hadn't been able to focus her attention fully on him. If he spotted her on her way toward the elevator, he would notice the signal she was sending. She'd told him that if she was ready she'd pull her mirror out and fix her makeup.

There was a code that needed to be punched in for access to the empty upper floors. Shelly knew it, Jiro did not. She snuck a little red from her lips onto her finger as she punched the code in, leaving a simple pattern for Cole if he were to try and follow the same way.

"I guess you're smart and got a good personality going for you, too, but yeah... What was I talking about?"

A good personality? She quirked a delicate eyebrow at him. Well, that was a first. "#$%*ing and fighting." She reminded him gently, entertained in a mild sense by his antics. In some ways, he was like having a semi-attractive, somewhat clever jester around. 

"Yeah ima $#%& Camille. She hot? Doesn't need to be, but it's a plus."

Ah, and then right back on track he went. "Like a finely aged wine," Shelly replied back. Camille was older, nearing sixty, but she spent quite a bit of time and energy keeping herself in tip-top shape. "If you're not careful she might break you, though." She sipped from her cup with a slight grin. Camille's daughter was about the same, although now sadly very straight and very married. Had a second kid on the way, last she had heard. 

Both were voracious in bed, though.

Shelly nodded along as he explained what he knew about Jiro's power. It was pretty much that same as her, with a little more detail for the finer, more dangerous bits. He brought up a reminder of the weapon she was sneaking in, and she reached for her clutch. It was time to visit it again in order to ensure it would remain within her space for the rest of the drive. "Yep, and I have nothing further to add to that data. And," She popped her clutch open and withdrew a small mirror compact from within. She'd painted both sides herself in an ornate fashion, and in doing so had let little pocket worlds attached to them. Inside one of them was Cole's gun and inside the other, she had stashed one of her own favored self-defense items. "Excuse me for a moment."

She made contact with the painting in order to revisit and refresh the time limit on the items, briefly popped out of existence and back into it within the car.  She didn't even bother to set her glass down, and once she was back simply re-crossed her legs and clipped her purse back shut. It was as if she had hardly moved at all, let alone crossed into an entirely different dimension. She would be frequenting her painting spaces frequently for little blips throughout the night until it was needed for her to bring the weapon out.

"Ever @#$^ed in the back of a limo? Only curious, you probably ride in them a lot." 

One hand draped over her slightly exposed thigh as she chuckled at his question. "What a silly question. Of course I have. What would be the point of owning one if I didn't use it to it's fullest capacity?" She angled a slim finger to the seat he was sitting on. "I'm sure you must know who Charly Roseman is?"

She was a high-end model for various types of lingerie and a very well known name. "I worked with her last summer on a special commision piece. She helped me break in that very seat you are sitting on."

Around that time they were pulling into the curved driveway of Camellia's penthouse. Shelly disregarded her glass by the mini bar and allowed Jeremy to help her from the car as he pulled the side door open. "Thank you," She didn't need to lock eyes with her assistant to know he was listening to her attentively. She could hear it from the contact he was making with her skin. "Be a dear and keep an eye on the car for me, will you?" 

He replied shortly, waiting for the agent to exit before he shut the door and hurried to move the limo out of the way. Shelly waited for only a moment before she headed directly for the entrance to the place, where two guards awaited them.

They were briefly scanned for weapons and any other banned items, before being cleared and allowed in. The interior of the building wasn't nearly as unassuming as the outside. The penthouse was decorated lavishly with expensive rugs, furniture, and accessories. Delicate crystal chandeliers hung from a curved, high ceiling in all directions, helping to both light the place up exquisitely, and add to the overall feel.

The whole place dripped of wealth. A waiter with a tray of fine drinks greeted them just inside. Shelly claimed a small flute of white wine for herself, before turning to glance around the room. It was already packed with various people milling about and schmoozing. Where to start?

Off in one corner, she could hear a live band working away at various classical songs, while in other wings she knew that there were other rooms restricted to specific activities. There were also multiple floors, considering that her penthouse was part of a very tall building within the city. She'd purchased the whole thing without having a true plan on what she was going to with a lot of the barren upper floors.

They parted ways then, and after she finished up a few things in her office she headed home in order to get ready for the night ahead.

In the comfort of her own home, she set herself on the task. Many years of primping had taught her how to accomplish even the most difficult of beauty regiments without the help of a professional. Her hair was washed, dried, and loosely curled. Pinned back in a classic looking fashion to match her vintage dress.

Her makeup was simple: a little eyeliner, a little shadow, and striking red lipstick in a shade she was fond of. Her girlfriend helped her into her dress once the other tasks were complete since the long red dress was made from a heavy fabric and had been tailored to fit her form like a glove. It was strapless, supported her in all the right areas, and had a slit in the front that ended just under her left hip.

A simple diamond choker settled around her neck, with matching earrings and bracelet, and she was done. She gave herself a quick appraisal on the way out, slipping into tall black heels.

A few minutes before she was due to appear at Cole's given address, a short black limo rolled to a stop outside. She contemplated sending the driver in to get him but found herself stewing over whether or not he would be properly dressed. In the end, she decided to go fetch him herself. At least then she would be able to properly chew him out and force him to change. (possibly)

She was standing there when the door was opened, one hand loosely settled on one hip as she waited. When she finally caught sight of what he had chosen to wear she found that her worry might have been unneeded.

The artist gave him a blank once over before nodding slightly. "I approve." He was dressed sharply and in untypical colors. He would stand out a little, but she didn't mind. If anything she would welcome the attention it could bring.

"You look like you could be part of a yacht club." Whipping out a small jewelry box, she produced a gold collar pin and reached out to attach it to him.

"My initials. Everyone will know you are with me. Ready?"

She turned, heading back toward the car. The driver had come out to open the door for them. As it turned out, Jeremy happened to be the driver as well. She didn't go many places without him since he knew her schedule by heart and was able to give her pretty valuable information without vocal words.