Eye of the Tiger, Baby

You don't get fabulous sitting at home and watching TV. You get fabulous by going to the gym every day for at least an hour. Not that she insisted on the whole 'skinny is beautiful' bit. What was really fabulous was being able to walk up to a guy in a bar and offer him tickets to the gun show. She couldn't even begin to describe how fabulous it felt when a guy got that envious look on his face - not because he wanted her body, but because he wanted a body like hers.

But then, Quinn had always been a little proud of herself. Why not? She took good care of herself. One ought to take a certain level of pride in ones nice things. Her nicest thing just happened to be her physique.

And anyways going to the gym always got her confidence up. It was the closest thing she had to an addiction. To be fair, she didn't know one person that didn't love a good ol' fashioned endorphin rush - just look at pre-marital sex rates. At least this she could do on her own. Well, mostly on her own. Generally speaking things worked better when she had someone to help her stretch or spot her, but what was she gonna do about it? she was still new in town and too lazy to make a craigslist posting for a gym partner. Hell, maybe if things went good with Goldie, she could get her to come.

In the meanwhile she'd have to make do on her own. Let's see, today was Tuesday and Tuesday was abs. Abs meant left wall. Left was was.... full. Well bugger. She tapped the shoulder of the nearest person on the machine she wanted.

"Pardon, do you have many reps left?"

Max used to have a good body. At least, she liked to think so. She'd always been a good weight for her size, she'd worked off the freshman fifteen at the college gym and then some, and she'd never been one for too much junk food. She had gone to the gym regularly before she was diagnosed with cancer, not enough to look like a bodybuilder, but enough to keep a nice muscle tone. Jake hadn't liked muscular women anyway, so Max had tried to keep a certain degree of softness. But now, all that was out the window, including Jake. Had been for over a year: a long, painful year where she'd lost her hair, a ton of weight, and a good percent of her muscle mass. Cancer... sucked. There really was no better way to put it. But she was dealing, and she was about to be in remission, and she was slowly going to get her body back. Max left her apartment in the singles' complex and headed for the gym, water bottle and iPod in hand. How anyone worked out without music she would never understand. Parking her car in the lot (and surprised at how full it was), Max went inside.

She'd been planning on working on her core today, since her abs were what she missed the most about her pre-chemo body. Not that she was flabby, her stomach was still flat, it was just... flat. There was no definition. Wrinkling her nose at the typical gym smell, feet and strangers' sweat, Max headed for an open machine along the left wall. She wiped down the seat with a towel from her bag, stripped her t-shirt over her head so she was down to her sports' bra, and sat. Within minutes she'd worked herself into a decent rhythm and a light sweat. She wasn't nearly as good at this now as she used to be and had to do fewer, shorter reps to give herself a break. Pausing to grab her water bottle, Max felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around, pulling one earphone from her ear. "Pardon, do you have many reps left?" A redhead was standing behind her machine, probably waiting for her to be done. Max had no idea how long the other woman had been there, not that she particularly cared. If the redhead hadn't been in such good shape Max might have been snippy with her... but at the moment all she could be was envious. "No," Max said, shaking her head. "I mean, I was hoping for five more, but I don't think it's happening today. Maybe two or three. You can have the machine after, I'll be quick." She took another swig of water and settled back into the machine again, determined to get at least two quick sets in before she called it and gave up the machine. Halfway through her first set, though, the guy at the machine next to her got up.

Max looked over her shoulder at the woman. "Looks like you won't have to wait that long," she said, gesturing to the empty machine. Watching the other woman get set up, she was hit with another pang of jealousy. While Max struggled with a much lower setting on the machine, the redhead seemed to be having no trouble at all. She had the abs Max used to have. Pulling the earphones out, Max couldn't help but introduce herself. "I'm Max, by the way," she said. "How often do you come to the gym? And that's not a pick-up line, I swear."

Nonsense was just on the tip of her tongue when the machine next to Max was suddenly freed. She'd never ask anyone to cut a workout premature. She might be a little self-centered, but she wasn't totally selfish. besides, she loved encouraging people to work out. Unlike Max, Quinn actually relished the smell of the gym. It smelled like triumph.

"Sweet action," Quinn chirped as she settled in to the vacated position. she swept a hand forward to shake with Max. "Sure it's not. I totally believe you. I'm Quinn, incidentally."

She quickly eyed Max's machine as she set her own. She wouldn't be hitting the weight too hard today. Quinn had already achieved the amount of definition she wanted. Any more would be over kill. For now, she was just maintaining, not building. "One a day, every day, on rotating cycles. Today is just abs."

She took a swing of her own water bottle and leaned in a bit closer, one eye brow raised. She wasn't quite daft. Slim, pretty girls didn't usually choose to be bald unless they had a slew of piercings and tattoos. Even then, they usually didn't come to the gym. someone had been sick for a long time, she'd guessed. Well, it was nothing a little Vitamin E (for Exercise) couldn't cure. "You're not really going to stop at two are you? Com'on, it's the lower setting. You can do this shit, suck it up."

Quinn loved a challenge. Telling herself to suck it up was her own favorite personal mantra. Before she'd moved she'd loved to be the one pushing her gym partner to run five more minutes or do two more reps. Really, she was just competitive as fuck. In another life, Quinn probably could have been very happy as a personal trainer. Instead she was just very happy playing with sparklies all day and then tutoring her friends at the gym every night. Hey, maybe that was her super secret super power.

Quinn. Shaking her hand, Max couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. What were the odds of the pair of them, a fitness junkie and former fitness junkie, both with boys names right next to each other on the machine today? "Quinn. Sick name. Nice to meet you." If nothing else, she could be polite. They were going to be working out next to each other for a little while longer anyway, might as well not make it awkward. When Quinn said she came once a day, Max smiled. "I used to do that. Now I do yoga. It's 'gentler'." She put finger quotes around the word gentler and rolled her eyes. "I guess it's supposed to be relaxing or some shit, which I think is bull. But it was my only choice for a while, and I guess I got used to it." If she'd had a home gym, she would have done more. There wasn't even a gym in the apartment complex where she lived while she waited for her match, so she was stuck coming here. Not that it was that far, it was just very public. Max wouldn't admit it, even to herself, but she was a tad self-conscious. Mostly because of the staring. People usually knew she was sick instantly, or assumed she was sick, though very few actually asked with what. She admired the ones that had the balls to ask her about it, and just wanted to yell at the ones with the insipid, pitying stares. Drinking from her water bottle again, Max ran a hand over her very short, damp brown hair and sighed.

"You're not really going to stop at two are you?" Quinn asked her. "Com'on, it's the lower setting. You can do this shit, suck it up." Oh, really? Cutting the other woman a disgruntled look, Max let out a bark of laughter. "Fucking 'a I can do this shit. Or I could when I had abs like yours." She could've gotten grumpy about it and been all offended, but what was the point? It sounded like a comment she would have made to someone. And besides, Max liked it when other people pushed her, buttons or otherwise. There was no fun pushing if the other person didn't shove back. Max finished her second rep and settled into her third, even though her abs were already protesting. She gritted her teeth and ignored it, determined to push through. This time there were no nurses hovering over her saying if she wasn't careful she'd hurt herself. There were no doctors telling her to avoid physical activity and the gym itself, if at all possible, because of the germs there. She wasn't constantly being told to settle down or take it easy, and she liked it. "What about you?" Max asked, annoyed that her voice sounded slightly winded. "I know you could do more than you've got on that machine. Just doing upkeep, huh? That's no fun, man -- push yourself." If she had to grit her teeth and do this then somebody else did, too.

Reaching for her water bottle after the third set, Max glanced over at Quinn again curiously. "So what's your story, lived here long? Or are you new, and trying to make friends by taunting strangers in the gym?"

"Indeed I can. But I'm not about to." There was a cocky grin as Quinn settled in and began her rep cycle. "I mean hell, if you're not gonna do five, why should I bust my ass?"

She pulled a face. Quinn did yoga on the days when she was feeling... well, pms-y. She couldn't say she was huge on it. It was just so boring. Move a little, and then sit there. then move a little and then sit there. It just wasn't the thing for her. "Yeah, can't say I'm a fan of yoga either. It's dull as fuck. If you need something lower impact that's way more interesting you should try burlesque. There's a lot more subtlety to it, so you don't have to really work, but hey, at least there's music."

Honestly, Quinn had no idea if there even was a burlesque studio in this quaint little town. she highly doubted it. The large majority of the population was almost sickeningly wholesome. But that's what the internet and the privacy of your own living room was for. God bless the internet.

"Oh absolutely, I've been waiting to taunt you for months. Just kidding, yo. I've only been here a handful of months - like eight. But work was crazy for the first few and I've only now got a rhythm down." she'd forgotten how hard it was to talk and do crunches at the same time. As it was, she was doing sets in short bursts, then pausing to speak, before picking back up once more. "Besides, you know a better way to make friends? I hear the Vow only sets you up with a spouse, not drinking buddies."

"Oh, I'm doing five now. Just because you think I can't." Actually, that wasn't entirely true. Max was the one who had thought she couldn't do five reps, she distinctly remembered Quinn telling her she could. But she never backed down from a challenge, and Quinn had thrown down the gauntlet. She did the next short set of crunches without speaking, because she was getting winded trying to talk through them. The guy on the machine on her other side kept throwing the two women disoriented looks, like he was trying to figure out if they were for real the way they were talking to each other. Max knew it looked weird. It was scrawny bald girl versus hot redhead on the ab machines, look out! Either he was waiting for a cat fight or the opportunity to ask them both to shut up, so Max shot him a death glare out of the corner of her eye and he went back to doing sit-ups. "Burlesque... interesting. I never really was into dance, though. No rhythm. And not girly enough to do ballet or any of that shit. If I have to wear heels it's pretty much out of the question." Plus burlesque sounded like it would be naked, or mostly, and requiring sex appeal. Max was convinced that as of right now, she had none. She'd lost a lot of weight, and with it had gone her boobs. Her belly was flat, but not washboard flat -- it was practically concave, and a few lower ribs showed occasionally when she bent or stretched. Which was why she was here, she reminded herself briskly. To get her body back. The cancer was gone, or almost. The light at the end of the tunnel was blinding now. She could take her life back from the beast called astrocytoma.

Quinn had actually been in town longer than Max, but then Max had only been here since the end of April. "Ah, I'm a newbie, then. Just moved in April. I hear you though, it's crazy trying to settle in. I'm still living out of fucking boxes. No use unpacking my shit when I'm just gonna have to move it to the 'burbs anyway, right?" She'd only really unpacked the important things, like clothes and dishes. Her couch was makeshift out of random pillows, she had a TV plugged into the wall in the living room, and a mattress on the floor of the bedroom that she occasionally put sheets on. It wasn't impressive, but it was livable, and she knew she'd be matched and out of there soon. Hopefully within the month, because she had medical bill collectors breathing down her neck really wanted to be married. To a man with great insurance, preferably. "Actually taunting random strangers is the best way to make friends I've seen in a long time. And it seems to be working out for you, so I say go with your strengths, dude. Taunt away." She leaned her head back and laughed going into her fourth rep. "I think the drinking buddies should be complimentary with the matchmaking. I mean, they're setting you up with a complete stranger and you're supposed to spend eternity together, starting within a week. A week. Who wouldn't need a fucking drink with a deal like that? I mean, shit."

"See here's the nice thing about Burlesque - you don't actually have to dance. You mostly just move sexy - and I'm not talking sexy in terms of men," Quinn's voice pitched up higher, clearly trying to warn off the man to Max's other side. "Its more about moving sexy in terms of what makes you feel good about yourself. it's fucking awesome for your self esteem. The workshops I used to go to, the girls were all really supportive and stuff."

Every woman, Quinn thought, ought to feel sexy at least once or twice in her life. the probably with the beauty standards was that woman had a disproportionate sense of what men found attractive. Quite honestly, if a woman only hit a five on a one to ten scale, she was more than hot enough for a man - especially if clothes started coming off. Sure, having high cheek bones and long eye lashes tended to help, but really that was just gilding the lily. "It's not really about being feminine. It's more about being mysterious, I guess. Like, keeping them wondering what's going to happen next - at least, that's what I like to do. the bad ass thing about burlesque is you can pretty much do whatever you want and it still counts."

Five more clanks followed while Quinn processed the implication. So Max was part of the Vow too. She supposed that made sense. there were fewer and fewer single women who weren't. hell, if she hadn't move to Evergreen she probably never would have, but here it was just too hard to avoid.

"Man, I don't know about you, but I plan on getting good and toasted on my wedding night." She scoffed heartily. Truth be told, Quinn still hadn't really hadn't decided how she wanted to view her impending marriage. On the one who, the success rates were so high, she was almost guaranteed to be happy with whoever she got. On the other had.... awkward. Quinn stopped fully to dab sweat away and take a drink. "I tell you one thing though, I don't think I want to meet him before hand. I just think that kinda, I dunno, sours things. Like it supposed to be an adventure right? And getting to know them beforehand just defeats the purpose. If I was going to get to know them before hand, I wouldn't have paid the registration fee. But I'm impulsive like that."

Max glanced at the guy on her right as Quinn raised her voice and was amused to see that he instantly reached for the volume on his iPod, turning it way up and averting his eyes from the two of them. Moving in terms of what felt good to her? Real clothes. Real clothes, not hospital gowns, felt good to her. And cheeseburgers. Lasagna. Chocolate milkshakes and french fries. A fresh cannoli. The way her car engine sounded when she rolled it over and the wind coming in the windows over her partly bare scalp. Unfortunately, she didn't know how to put those things into dance. "Sounds interpretive. I'm more of a literal kind of person. But it sounds cool. Not like ballet, I did a year of that as a kid and the girls were catty as shit even at ten years old." And supportive sounded good. Not that Max needed support and/or validation from a bunch of women, pfft. She was fine on her own, soon to be married, making random friends at the gym and living in a half-unpacked apartment. Going to work and the gym were really all the time she was spending out, currently. She really ought to get a cat or something to keep her company, but Max had the innate ability to kill something as simple as a houseplant. She'd tried to keep a fern once, it had died within the week. She dreaded the fate of any poor animal that came into her home.

Headed towards the end of her fifth rep, Max's abs were screaming in protest. Part of her hated Quinn a little bit for pushing her to do this, but mostly she appreciated the challenge. Besides, in a minute, she'd be done, and then she'd know she could still do ten reps... even on the lowest setting. It was still an accomplishment from where she'd been before. All finished, she pushed herself up to a sitting position and huffed a sigh, reaching for her water bottle. "You too, huh? It's fucking unavoidable in this town. Being single makes you, like, a pariah. So backwards." Of course, the Vow was actually the reason why she'd come. She wanted a husband. And she needed someone else's insurance to keep her from going bankrupt. The Vow could provide her with both, hopefully she could kill both birds with one stone and live happily ever after without her husband ever knowing the initial reason she'd signed up. Her trust issues were another reason of course. She didn't really trust anyone to stick around, so she'd sabotaged every relationship but the one with Jake... and cancer had stepped in to ruin that one for her. Actually, she was grateful for that. If he wasn't going to stick around, she'd rather have known before they got married. "I'm not meeting mine beforehand. I mean, unless he like demands it or some shit, and even then I might not go just to piss him off. I don't do demands, you know?" She grinned, wiping sweat from her brow. "I wonder if they lock the doors to the church so neither one of you can run away. I still think about pulling a runaway bride from time to time, but man, if I paid all this money and the dude says no thanks, that would be brutal. You know how expensive this shit is."

Quinn pulled a fake sulking face. "I never got to do ballet when I was little. Always kinda wanted to, but it never worked out that way." Inwardly, Quinn sighed. Childhood really hadn't worked out the way anyone had wanted to do. But what was she gonna do about it now? Not much besides learned to pole and strip dance. Funny how daddy issues always worked out that way.

"I know right?" With a secret grin, Quinn stopped to up the setting on her machine. Fair was fair after all. Max had done her five, and damn if that wasn't pretty impressive. Quinn could almost see the other girl's abdominal muscles shredding. Good for her. "It took me like - ungh- four commission cheques to afford the stupid service. But it's an investment, so whatever."

Quinn's shoulders bounced around as she took a momentary breather, attempting to loosen the muscles there. She just had to rough it out for ten more, and then she could stop and stretch for a bit. Hell, maybe she'd treat herself to the dry sauna today.

"I'll probably change my mind like twenty times between now and when i get to the chapel. I definitely want a bachelorette party though. I mean, if I'm not gonna get wooed or proposed to or a big wedding or any of that shit, i at least deserved to get blitzed out of my mind." The laugh that followed was only a few steps short of maniacal. She didn't really think she'd end up with some stodgy prick, but if she was being completely honest she was a little nervous about the whole affair. Nervous, and even a bit disappointed. She'd long since passed the point in her lie where she expected to be romanced, but it was a little sad to let it go entirely when every day you were helping aid in some one else's love story.

"Take ballet now, there's a studio right down the street. I hear they do adult classes if you're into it. Why miss out on all that pink frilly goodness?" Max grinned. Ballet really wasn't her thing. She thought it was beautiful to watch and all, but she wasn't seven years old anymore and pink was far from her favorite color. Plus the grace and strength the dancers had when they moved, she'd never had. Certainly not now. She watched Quinn up the settings on her machine and silently appreciated the gesture. She liked a person who kept their word and didn't back down from a challenge, and Quinn was definitely putting her money where her mouth was. Taking another drink from her water bottle, Max stood up to stretch, leaving her bottle on the machine so it wouldn't get swiped while she did so. She linked her fingers and raised both arms above her head, palm up, tilting back to stretch her abs out. It was pretty much pointless, she already knew she was going to be sore as fuck tomorrow. All worth it, however. She was glad she pushed herself, or let Quinn push her, to do more than she thought she could. If she kept it up she might get her body back sooner than expected, as long as she didn't push too far all the time. Some days, and some muscle groups, had to be taken easy. "I hear ya," she agreed. "I get paid pretty well as a pharmacist here, but it was still almost two months' pay to sign up. But I guess that's a small price to pay for 'til death do us part'."

She could totally understand changing your mind about the marriage. Cripes, people who'd known each other for years could change their minds about getting married -- Jake had. So it made sense that marrying a perfect stranger was scary as fuck. "I'll be debating whether or not to run until the marriage certificate is signed, I'll tell you that. As far as wooing and the proposal goes, it's not worth the hassle. I had all that and it didn't work for me. I will take the bachelorette party, though. I'm gonna need a boost to get me down that aisle." A boost... or several drinks. Not that Max was always a heavy drinker, but she liked to go out and have fun from time to time. She was definitely opposed to getting so wasted that she puked, however. She'd spent enough time puking already. "Big weddings are probably overrated. For how much we pay this damn company you would think they'd at least throw us something good, though, you know? Like, I paid all this money just for them to click a couple buttons, match me up with some shmuck, and rent a couple tuxes? I don't think so. I heard there's champagne though. There'd better at least be champagne." They had to spend all that money on something nice for the happy couple, right? At least the success rate was super high with this company, so she was almost sure she'd be happy eventually. Eventually being the key word.

"Ohhhhh there'd better be. No way I'm gonna shot gun without at least a little of the fire water nearby. god, I sound like my dad." Quinn's mouth snapped shut. Well, she really didn't like when things like that came splattering out. She meant it mostly in good fun, but it always seemed to have such a bad recoil on it. Out it would come, like verbal vomit and then sit there like bile. She shook her head quickly to dismantle the whole train of thought.

"Anyways you can totally crash my party any time. The way I hear it, there's not too many of those happening around here and I'll probably need all the moral support I can get." That was as close as Max was gonna get to Quinn saying 'Yo, be my buddy' today. She figured it was a blatant enough signal though. She was impulsive like that, and would decide she like a person on the turn of a dime. And if she liked you, why the hell shouldn't you stop by for a good time? there weren't nearly enough smiles in the world.

"All that aside, I mean what's the worse that can happen. Hey you done here? I'm gonna hit the sauna if you wanna come with? I do any more and I'll look like She-Hulk." Quinn patted her belly for emphasis. "Last I heard the gentlemen callers didn't like a lady that could bench press them."

Really her mind was dangerously close to getting heavy, and she wasn't about to go skipping down that bunny trail. agonizing over things just didn't do any one any good. The solution? Go soak somewhere hot for a while and then go home and watch a terrible movie. She was sorta feeling like she might want to watch Reefer Madness this time. "Hey, you can ignore this question if you want, but I've always wanted to ask. Do you take anything medicinal?"

Max ignored the comment Quinn made about sounding like her dad, since she obviously hadn't meant for that to come out of her mouth. Yay for girls with daddy issues. Max had managed to kind of avoid that, but since the abandonment/trust issues in her life sort of centered around both parents she really hadn't entirely. Instead she nodded in understanding. "Sounds good, I doubt there's going to be much else going on by way of partying around here. Just let me know where and when and I'm down." She remembered the simpler days, like kindergarten, where if you wanted to make a friend all you had to do was ask. Of course that didn't really fly when you were 26 years old, because if anyone older than ten asked 'Do you want to be my friend?' they sounded like a pedo or a stalker. Some girls made friends doing the chirpy 'Oh my god, we have the same taste in clothes! We should go shopping together' thing, but Max preferred this. Infinitely. If she ever needed somebody to kick her ass at the gym or get her drunk before her wedding now she knew where to go. "I'll even kick in a couple of my personal bottles of 'moral support' for the occasion," she said, putting her water bottle, towel, and t-shirt in her bag. "Sauna sounds good." Standing up, she slung the bag over her shoulder and followed Quinn in the direction of the sauna. Usually, voluntarily sweating in a room full of other partially-naked female strangers sounded weird, but at least today she'd have someone to talk to. Plus her abs were still quivering from their recent abuse and she figured she could use a few minutes to sit and bask in the heat before she got in her car to go home. To her empty apartment. Man, she really needed a cat or a houseplant or something.

"Medicinal?" Max repeated. The question sounded innocent but the way Quinn said it, she assumed she wasn't talking over the counter medication. "Nah. My body's fucked up enough the way it is without me putting more shit in it, you know? Obviously. I stopped doing that after college." Okay, so she'd tried it a few times. In her opinion, nothing spectacular, but she knew people who claimed to have had their lives altered. Max thought her life was altered enough, thank you. Plus she had about a billion doctors in her life who would kill her if she messed up their handiwork. They'd spent a lot of man hours getting her to this point, she gave them that. "How about you, you're a fan? Or you just wanted to ask?" Max didn't really care if Quinn smoked. She wouldn't even care if she did it in front of her, but she wouldn't likely be participating. Just had never been her thing, but she didn't judge.

"Meh, I was a fan for like ten minutes when I was twenty. But then I started thinking everything wanted to eat me and decided that it just wasn't a healthy relationship." Quinn had nothing against the sport, she'd just learned that it didn't treat her well. Better to stick with the demons you knew and loved. She had, however, always found the entire subject fascinating. "I just wanted to ask. Used to live with a stoner. he was pretty neat - had the best taste in movies."

For a moment Quinn skipped away. Thank God this gym came equipped with sterilization stuff. She wasn't necessarily paranoid about germs and stuff, but there was nothing more disgusting that getting to a piece of machinery and finding it covered in sweat. Naturally, courtesy called her for to wiped down when she was done too. On a quick after thought she grabbed a spare paper towel for Max.

"Anyways," she noted as she swiped the towel over her machine. "I'll make sure you get the call. I'll put you first on the list if you promise to bring something fruity and pink."

The red head straightened with a grin. "K, I'm super ready to be lazy and warm. Shall we, Lady-face?" She even offered her elbow in an gentlemanly manner. Meeting people was easy for Quinn, it was keeping them that was hard. they didn't run off and neither did she, but they did always tend to be a continental drift. She was not a woman who stood still easily, and most men could not understand that. Women tended to roll with her figurative punches better. Still, she was lacking in the female friends department, and she'd be more than happy to take the friendly faces she could get.

"Same," Max agreed. "Only without the things wanting eat me part. It was more the opposite, I only ever got high enough to have munchies, and it went downhill from there." Not wanting to have to spend extra time in the gym, she'd stopped doing that pretty quickly. And as she'd said, her body had enough problems without her putting unnecessary chemicals in it. "Stoners usually do have good taste in movies. And cookies." Her stoner friends in college had always had the best munchies. Sometimes she'd just gone and hung out at their apartment when she was hungry, and they were usually too high to care what or how much she ate. Max could inhale food if she wanted to, she ate like no other. Quinn skipped away and came back a moment later with a paper towel for them both to wipe down their machines. Max took hers and obligingly wiped down the machine she'd been using, tossing the paper towel in the trash when she was done.

"Yeah, let me know. I'll bring the fruitiest, pinkest shit I have, just for you." Max grinned. "Anything for the bride to be, right? What do you want, daiquiris? Cosmos?" Max didn't delve much further into pink and fruity territory than that, she was mostly a rum and coke kind of girl. Occasionally whiskey or a mixed drink or two, but only if she wanted to get wasted. She was pretty simple. No muss, no fuss. None of those frilly drinks with the little umbrellas for her, although maybe she'd buy some tiny umbrellas for Quinn. You know, as a wedding present. They probably had them at the drugstore. She could use her discount.

Lazy and warm sounded good to Max, and she nodded, taking the offered elbow and carrying her bag with the other arm. "Why thank you, madam," she said, with a slightly posh affect. "We shall." And off they went, earning a multitude of weird looks as they did so. "Ten bucks says Muscles over there is imagining us making out right now," she said, nodding in the direction of a body-builder type who was watching their progress through the gym with his mouth slightly hanging open. She winked and blew the guy a kiss with her free hand and he quickly looked away. Probably married and not aware of the staring. Max had been stared at enough that she knew how to defuse the situation.