"I don't believe in fate," she admits with a frown. There's a sense of defeat as he slinks down to the floor next to her, and fuck, that's familiar, isn't it? "but if I did, that sounds like exactly the sort of shit it'd get up to."

She snorts at that admission, "Shit, really?" She can't help it, okay? There IS so much irony in this now. "Is this the part where we trade stories about it?" Because, uh, hers is pretty gruesome, buddy.