"There ain't no fucking way I'm loosing that deal now," Parker's loud angry voice flooded in to her cell phone, and out of it as well. "Listen, I have been working my fucking ass off to get that dumbass company in my fucking pocket and curled around my fucking finger. Now either you tell these small timers that they work for Parker Maitland, or they don't work at all." Snap. People had turned heads, mothers with children had blocked their infant's ears, but it seemed the powerful young woman, who now strode the street with enough confidence to fill six Russel Crowes, was oblivious. But in reality, Parker just really didn't care.

She turned a corner, narrowly avoiding bumping in to an old man, and lit a cigarette that was hanging on her vibrantly red lips. Her long platinum blonde hair was in it's usual abundance of soft curls, and her makeup was flawless. She took a drag from the cigarette, the tip becoming brighter in it's fire as she did so. Tap, tap, tap, tap. The familiar sound of her expensive high heeled shoes hitting the pavement, came to a gradual stop.

She was standing in front of her building...And what a building. If intimidation could build a building, this would be it. Needless to say Parker was successful. In fact she had more success than she was able to brag about. She stood in the middle of the sidewalk, looking up at her building with her cigarette between two fingers.

One wouldn't even be able to tell that one of the building's floors had been completely burned to a cinder. Parker's floor. Long story. She exhaled her smoke through her nose, passersby coughing loudly in the blue grey cloud she had just created. She had taken one step forward, one step, and was immediately pushed over.

She fell down with less grace than she would have liked, and flat on her side. Her hands were held out in front of her and had helped her avoid what could been a serious concussion. "Who the hell just did that?!" She asked in a not-so-damsel-in-distress tone of voice.

A young woman, who might have been the very same age as Parker, turned around abruptly as she continued on walking backwards at a snail's pace. She gave a yawn and a shrug, lifting the feathered fedora she was currently wearing off of her head and placing it over her heart. That was when she stopped moving and gave a small bow, one hand behind her back squeezed tightly around Parker's lovely and expensive wallet.

"Sorry, should pay closer attention to where I'm goin'," Sefton apologized gravely. She lifted the hat and gently replaced it upon her head, discreetly stuffing the wallet into her pants' pocket. Coincidentally, that hat was also recently stolen as was Parker's wallet and Sef was particularily pleased with herself; she had never owned a fedora before.

Not wanting to remain on scene for much longer, Sefton spun on her heel and started back down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace. She rarely did get caught being non-chalante after picking a pocket or somewhat larger busts.

"You should pay more attention to who it is you're fucking running in to," Parker retorted sourly as she stood up, brushing her expensive (and today it was as red as her dramatic lips) designer skirt. She looked up to see the young woman who had so roughly pushed her over already walking away. Parker's perfectly shaped eyebrows puckered in a frown, her jaw dropping in shock and disgust.

"Oh she did not just what away from me..." Parker said to herself, tilting her head to the side, the fedora becoming smaller as the woman continued her relaxed pace along the sidewalk. Parker then quickly regained her composure, gritting her teeth defiantly behind those unique vibrant red lips, she pulled down her blazer roughly in an attempt to straighten it. She then made her way through the crowd, and none too gently. Eventually Parker was able to wrap her hand around the young woman's elbow and spin her around.

"I'm afraid I'm the bearer of bad news, hun, but you made the apocalyptic mistake of bumping in to me. Saying you should be more careful isn't going to cut. Who the fuck do you think you are anyways?" Parker was already reaching in her purse for a cigarrette, obviously not yet noticing her wallet had been expertly stole. She held the unlit cigarette between two fingers, not yet ready to light it. "I'll take an apology, but that doesn't mean I'll accept it." As she said the last few words her brown eyes looked over the figure of the woman, looking as if there was something incredibly displeasing about her.

"Who do I think I am? That depends on who's asking, missy," informed Sef in a slightly cheeky manner, grin matching her tone to a 'T'. Apparently Parker wasn't the only female giving once overs and what Sefton discovered she happened to like very much. Expensive suit, expensive shoes, expensive cigarette, expensive everything, right down to the other woman's roots of her hair. The grin grew into a smirk and if she were animated, the dirty blonde's eyes would have transformed into large, bright green dollar signs. Cha-ching.

Watery blue eyes cleanly met Parker's own brown ones as Sef tilted her fedora in a mock-polite gesture. As long as she hadn't noticed the missing wallet, Sefton knew she was in the clear. If she had to humour the whiny business woman to get there, so be it, she had her fat wallet and a new fedora, Sef was all set.

"Ya can accept whatever the hell ya want, missy. Want the shirt off my back? I'll hand it right over," and that was one thing that went well with all her underground business associates; Sefton always kept her word. If she offered her shirt, she'd deliver. Of course her shirts weren't anything special really. The one she had on currently was navy, ripped a little right under her right breast and smelled like mary jane. She'd picked it off of a druggie that had passed out in one of her less frequented hang outs.

Parker couldn't possibly know all that though, not even the colour of the shirt since, well, it was all hidden beneath an extraordinarily large, gray sweatshirt with white ties and a hood. Haute couture? Uhuh, sure.

Parker's eyebrow raised as she eventually lit the cigarette dangling on those red lips of hers. She put the lighter back in the dark depths of her matching purse, the cigarette already between her fingers as she had just taken a much needed drag. She crossed her arms over her chest such that the fingers holding the cigarette were held outwards slightly for the ash to drop on the pavement.

Another blunt once over of the woman standing in front of her, pushing the smoke through her lips and directly in to Sefton's already watery blue eyes. "I don't want that ratty rag that you have the lack of tact enough to call a shirt. And as for the whole thrift shop look, I highly suggest you take your own shirt off your back...And fucking burn it." Another drag. Red burning tip. Tough brown eyes under perfectly curled lashes.

"And as for who I am, if you're walking in to any legal firm in this goddam hell hole of a city, you're on my turf. And with that little stunt you pulled earlier you best tell me your name, before I make your sad existance...that much more useless." She exhaled the smoke through her nose, a small smile curving her lips.

Legal? Sefton could have laughed if she wasn't trying her best to keep a straight face. Honestly, she was so far from anything legal that she occasionally forgot the meaning of the word. Perhaps that was a bit of an exageration, but it wasn't entirely far off. She looked thoughtful for a moment, as if she were seriously considering her doomed fate if she decided not to tell prissy her name. Looking solemn as she gave a great sigh, Sef removed the fedora from her head and started turning it over in her hands by the brim.

"Well, in that case, ya can call me Ragetty Anne."

"Listen you little dirt rat, you better fucking pray I don't find out exactly who you are," Parker replied, her voice becoming a little more heated, but still keeping it's usual tones of constant cool danger. She took a long thoughtful drag on her cigarette, her eyes locking on those watery blue ones that used be under the brim of the woman's fedora. She thought it strange how the woman continuously baraged her with old fashioned male courtesy. The bringing down of the hat, the soft polite tones. Definitely strange. This woman needed more than a life, she needed an entire makeover. This, of course, was not the first thought on Parker's mind.

Squish it like a bug, was a phrase that was repeating itself in her mind.

"Now..." She continued, yet again, now rummaging through her purse. "You'll give me your real name, or I'll end up finding..." Her voice faded out with the definitive taste of someone's sudden realization. Parker's eyebrows puckered in confusion as she stared down at the open purse at her side. Slowly, very slowly, she looked back up at the young woman.

"Oh you didn't..."

Name or no name, Sefton couldn't get herself caught now, especially not by Miss Prissy in such an undignified manner. Even thieves had pride and hers had already climbed so high that death looked more appealing than Parker's steely brown eyes and bright red lips.

Now Sef was the master at playing dumb, there was no other criminal out there who could play as dumb as she. Honestly, if there was, she hadn't yet met them. Furrowing her brow and very slowly lifting the fedora back onto her head, she gave a slow and deliberate nod, corners of her chapped lips pulling themselves downward in a frown.

"No, I didn't," she stated plainly as if it were absolutely obvious. She was actually referring to the fact that she hadn't given her real name, but beneath that was the false pretense of not having stolen the other woman's wallet.

Parker laughed. It was a complete juxtaposition to her entire demeanor, it was high and silvery, and very sweet, even in the present situation. Now if Sefton had gone and said outloud that she could play dumb better than anyone, Parker wouldn't have doubted her. What Parker did well, was to not trust. She never trusted anyone, and never would. It was how she ran things, and how she received those soft warm bundles of green in her bank account. So far...It had been working out fine. Why stop now?

Parker's perfectly manicured hand reached out quickly and began searching the woman's pockets. As she did so she looked up at those blue eyes, now safely hidden beneath the brim of that fedora...Parker had the sudden urge to rip it off...and locked eyes. "Now listen, honey, you didn't take it, that's fine. If you did...well then we have a problem, don't we?" She took a drag of the cigarette that was still held securely in her free hand.

Was she...? How could she...? Wow, Sefton was actually...impressed? Parker's hand attempting to rummage through her very own pockets was a complete shock, not to mention extremely amusing. The other woman would never make a very good pickpocket, that was certain. Her approach was all wrong and she was most definitely too rough. She had to be a lot smoother with the entry and a lot less searchful. She also had to remember that picking pockets was to be done in discreet and secretive fashion. Not directly in front of the victim's face! Sef grabbed Parker's hand and gave it a hard squeeze that clearly meant she was through with this game.

"Ya really shouldn't be doing that, missy, it could turn out very bad for your health y'know."

"So could my cigarette in your face," Parker replied, her red lips turning in to a perfect smile with a flash of perfectly even and whitened teeth. Parker wasn't out to pickpocket. Parker wasn't trying to be secretive. All she knew was that her wallet was missing, and it seemed to coincide with the incident of being roughly pushed over by this young dim-witted woman. Her smile changed as she closed her lips and gritted her teeth, placing her free hand (still holding the cigarette between two fingers, lit tip facing heavenward) over Sefton's, and eventually yanking her hand loose. She, however, did not remove her hand from Sefton's wrist, as Parker's motto was 'an eye for an eye'. But as she did so she felt something entirely unexpected...

Her brown eyes widened slightly and her lips curved in what can only be described as a demonic smirk of triumph. The cigarette dropped harmlessly to the ground (harmlessly? No...It landed smoldering on the foot of a passerby. Fortunately enough the businessman didn't notice his patent leather shoe had been irreversably scarred) and Parker's hands scrambled over Sefton's wrist and over a considerable bulge resting discretely there. She managed to finally loosen it and pull it out and sure enough, the familiar 'LV''s of Louis Vitton smiled back at her on her real leather wallet. She examined it with a big smile...But her hand never left Sefton's wrist.

Sefton's expression transformed radically into that of a five year old who had just been labelled a trouble maker and forced to sit in the corner. She felt a little bit worse than that though, her ego severely bruised thanks to this prissy brat of a woman who obviously had a problem with other peoples' personal space. The term 'hypocrite' meant absolutely nothing to the dirty blonde as she stared, positively fuming, at the slender fingers wrapped around her wrist. The grip was surprisingly firm, but that only left the twenty three year old more bitter. Had this happened in the wee hours of the morning or the late hours of the evening, Sef could most definitely kiss her respectable reputation goodbye. And that was when the thought suddenly occured to her like that first clap of thunder in a summer rainstorm sent you jumping out of your socks.

"Listen, ah, missy, I, ah, I didn't mean to, you know, take the wallet, I was just looking for a tissue, really, I, ah, yeah," the excuse fell clumsily from her lips and the thought of blue uniformed policemen and flashing lights left a slightly regretful lilt in her tone. Sefton couldn't possibly believe it was her fault for becoming suddenly inarticulate, after all, she had never before in her life gotten caught before. It was degrading and positively embarrassing and she could only rack her brain for an escape route. If the cops were called, she would bolt, but she knew that her appartment would be found and turned inside out.

Had it been summer and had she been back on her boat, back on the water, none of this would have happened. Fucking winter!

"Would this tissue look surprisngly like a one hundred dollar bill?" Parker asked iclly, placing her wallet back in her purse. This time, though, she put the strap higher on her shoulder and brought her arm down over the top of the purse itself, making it exceedingly difficult for another pick pocket (however unlikely) to even try to slip a pinky finger in. For a moment those cold never leaving brown eyes of her swerved downwards, showing definite emotion. Shame? Annoyance? Parker wouldn't give anyone any time to figure it out anyways, because in just a moment her eyes had snapped back to lock yet again to Sefton's blue eyes. She usually would have laughed at Sefton's lame excuse....So totally lame, as it was. But she didn't. She didn't because she was feeling the exact same emotion that Sefton was.

Parker Maitland was never had...But it seemed that Sefton had successfully pick pocketed her without her ever noticing. That is, until now. Had Sefton not stopped to apologize, Parker had no doubt that she would be up in her newly painted office screaming about her missing wallet.

It seemed they had both taken hits to their overly large egoes. Parker wouldn't let it show, though. She took in a sharp deep breath through her nose, as if deciding smoething. She squared her shoulders and let go of Sefton's wrist. "Come on..." She said in quite a non-threatening way, "I'll buy you a coffee." As if the decision had already been made Parker began turning and walking away, giving Sefton a small gesture that she should follow. It didn't affect Parker if Sefton decided to run. She did, after all, have her wallet. But she saw in Sefton a few things she saw in herself. And she wanted coffee.

Coffee didn't usually fit the bill unless it was the Irish kind and was four quarters alcohol, but the sole fact that Parker had offered to buy her some left Sefton with a feeling of accomplishment. A little pick me up, if you will, after having her ego brutally whacked multiple times with and old, cracked, wooden baseball bat. Figuratively speaking of course.

A great feeling of relief washed over her as she realized that the other woman had no intention of turning her in. It was at that particular moment that Sef decided she liked this woman and that, despite the current circumstances, she could afford to abandon bolting in the other direction for some coffee. Especially if it was free. Without another second's hesitation, Sefton had fallen into step beside Ms.Maitland, hands shoved deeply into the pouch at the front of her sweatshirt.

"A few words for ya: Use the zipper," the dirty blonde stated calmly, her manner of speaking somewhat stiff, but decently conversational. There was some truth in her words, zippers did pose great problems, but she decided not to mention that a zipper had never stopped her before. Sefton figured that she may not want to count her chickens before they hatched, one or two could end up poached.

Parker glanced over at Sefton, her pace quick and determined, as per usual. Her red lips parted and her wuick brown eyes flahses warningly that a tumble of snappy words were about to spill forth with full venom. However she seemed to hesitate, which was exceedingly rare, and eventually she looked back over at her purse and zipped it up. "Thanks, I'll keep it in mind. I usually keep it open so my cell phone's within easy reach," she spoke normally, no hidden hostility, it was just a simple reply. Eventually Parker's ambition-filled steps took them to a small cafe three stores down from her own building.

Truth be told, Parker could have used a drink herself. And if another truth be allowed, she simply couldn't allow herself to fall in to that easy temptation. Parker was a business woman, and if, by some fluke sent from hell, a business associate saw her boozing at this hour her reputation might take a few scratches. She could always destroy that person's reputation till all that was left was their last name and a mug they got from a radio station. But...She didn't need the extra trouble.

Manicured hands pushed opened the fancy cafe door and she stepped in to a well heated (it was fairly chilled outside) cafe. Parker chose a small table for two near the window and sat down, not even glancing up to see if Sefton sat as well. Parker was secretly relieved, though, that she wouldn't be alone. Completely subconscious, of course.

Sefton took the seat directly across from Parker at the small table, her silence having very much the same nature as the other woman's. It was thoughtful and contemplative. The twenty-three year old pirate draped an arm over the back of her chair, letting clear, blue eyes wander aimless over the small crowd already occupying the cafe. The whole place smelled of high class citizens, overly expensive coffee and what Sef considered the best smell of all: money. Lots and lots of money.

Parker probably didn't realize that coffee wasn't the only thing she was treating Sefton too.

Parker's brown eyes flickered upwards towards the waiter who only now approached them. Now, one must understand that this cafe, with it's expensive coffee and expensive china, was usually filled to the brim with people much like Parker. So when the waiter started gazing at Sefton with obvious disdain Parker redirected his attention to herself with a small gesture of her hand and a raised eyebrow.

"Two espressos," Parker said with her intimidatingly direct voice. The waiter immediately wrote that down and asked if she desired anything else. Parker sighed softly and sat back in her seat, her eyes never blinking as they watched the waiter. "We...There are two of us. If you need to write that down alongside the order you can...But I suggest you learn how to count quickly, stud," she left the threat open, giving the waiter a cold stare as he bowed his head mumbling 'Of course Ms. Maitland' before turnign and heading off for their order. Parker looked through her purse and took out a cigarette, lighting it quietly. She only spoke after having taken her first drag.

"So what is your name, anyways? And you don't have to worry about me chasing after you...Not worth it."

Sef watched the other woman with intrigue as she handled the pansy little waiter-boy. She deduced that Parker was an exceptionally strong woman and, despite her outward appearance of posh clothes and beautiful accessories, she was not someone to piss off. Sefton understood that and responded to it. She was really beginning to like this lady, despite the fact that she had caught her and busted up her ego somewhat.

"Sefton... Clowes," she replied, adding her last name after a brief hesitation. For some reason she felt as though it was needed perhaps because she had heard the waiter say Parker's last name and she just wanted to be fair. Sef may have been a thief, but when the time came, she could be perfectly honest. Honestly.

Parker nodded, and tapped the side of her cigarette lightly over the ash tray on the table. The ash collecting on the tip fell lightly before she brought the cigarette back to her red lips. "Sefton Clowes...Strange name." She didn't further the sentence to tell Sefton whether or not she liked it. Besides, Parker suspected this woman wouldn't have cared either way.

"Parker Maitland," she said without offering her hand or indulging in any such formalities. By this time the waiter, with a bowed head, had set both the espressos down in front of them. Parker didn't thank him or even glance in his direction. "So..." Another drag, exhale, "I'm going out on a limb and guessing you make your living somewhat illegally?" Parker took up the small bone white espresso cup and took a sip of the pure strong coffee, her eyes never leaving Sefton.

Sefton shrugged, dubbing the question rediculously irrelevant since the answer was so plainly obvious. Seriously, how many pick-pockets actually made a living doing something legal? It made no coherent sense. Studying the tiny, white cup of espresso warily, she wondered what it actually was. Having never been to such a high class coffee shop before, she wouldn't expect to know anything about drinks that weren't simply called 'coffee'. Espresso, cappuccino, latte, it was all italian to Sef and she only spoke english.

"Ya come here a lot," more of a statement than a question, Sefton stared straigh back at Parker. She wasn't so anxious anymore and hadn't yet touched her coffee.

Parker smiled at Sefton's comment. It was a slow feline smile, like a cat finally having cornered it's prey. But Parker didn't feel as such, it was simply the way she smiled. "Hey don't get all modest on me suddenly. I got to where I am the same way as you have...Illegally." Parker took another drag, taking her time as she eventually let the smoke drift through her slightly parted lips, until she finally began speaking again.

"I get my lunches from here. They're sent up to my office. Generally speaking this cafe doesn't deliver." Parker shrugged lightly and took the rest of the espresso like a shot, as it is meant to be taken, and set the cup back down on it's small identical plate. She watched Sefton for a few moments, remaining silent. "So...Are you a very successful pick pocket?" She asked with a hint of malevolence.

"Pick-pocketing is my winter day-job," Sefton replied simply, watching Parker down the coffee. There was no way in hell that she was going to pretend that there was alcohol in the tiny mug and down it like a shot. Her hand drifted from the table top and into the pouch at the front of her sweatshirt. She could easily turn the caffeine-fuelled drink Irish, she always had a tendancy to carry around stolen vodka shots that major airlines carried. That was a little strange too since she'd never been on a plane before.

"Are you a successful liar--I mean, lawyer?" Sef gave a grin that clearly mocked Parker's current expression.

In a juxtapositon Parker merely smiled wider. She gave Sefton a wink and sat back in her chair, arms crossed, the hand holding the cigarette between two fingers held up slightly in order to not scorch her. She had become so accustomed to having a cigarette between her fingers that this movement was instinctual and free-flowing. She watched Sefton, as if trying to bear through her soul and rip out it's secrets. However, Parker wasn't interested in Sefton's soul secrets, or anyone else's for that matter.

"Oh I'm not a lawyer myself...But I am an excellent liar, if truth be told. Though I find telling the blunt truth so much more effective," Parker looked as if she had suddenly gotten bored and turned her head slightly to look outside the window. "So what is it you do when it isn't winter, Sefton?" She asked, turning back to the woman opposite her.

"Loot, steal, pillage, runamuck, whichever ya prefer Maitland," Sefton replied, her tone immitating the expression of boredom Parker wore almost perfectly. She might have know the other woman for only ten minutes or so, but she herself decided to call her by her last name anyways. Parker just didn't seem to fit the apparently ruthless woman who sat opposite her and Sef would never willingly call anyone Parker by choice. Whether it was their actual name or not.

As she spoke, Sef started tinkering around with the tiny handle of the espresso cup, eyeing it this way and that. She decided finally, after some further contemplation, that she'd just throw caution to the wind and down it without fuss. It was free, after all, and she was thirsty. Sefton lifted the miniscule coffee cup and put it gently to her lips, the heat of her breath mixed with the steam from the coffee making her nose twitch a little bit. She slurped down the entire cup rather loudly as well as obnoxiously and placed it back down on its equally tiny saucer.

Frowning, Sefton squinted at the empty cup. It was very bitter. Bitter and strong. She liked it. A lot.

"I prefer none of those, actually. I go for the more subtle approach...Not to bring down your choice of profession, of course. I suppose your line of work is much more honest than mine, if you compare them." As comfortable as Sefton seemed to be with calling Parker by her last name, Parker herself wasn't so at ease with the immediate familiarity. But she didn't care enough to bring it to mention, and so remained silent as she watched Sefton down the coffee somewhat ungracefully.

"Not a big espresso drinker, I take it?" She asked monotonously, an eyebrow arching slightly as she spoke. "So, Seffy, you always wear men's clothing?" Parker didn't bother to even try and add mocking tones to this already downright rude question of hers. She took a drag of her cigarette, which was by now half way done, and turned her head to exhale the strong and sweet smoke in a polite fashion.

"D'ya always try to blind people with your lipstick?" Sefton replied simply, apparently unfazed by Parker's bluntly rude remark. It was something she got often really, whether it was in the form of incredulous stares or flat out giggling, it was the norm.

"This shit's good!" She added afterwards, speaking of the coffee.

Parker glared openly at Sefton, her eyes intense like burning acid. Soon, though, the corners of the aforementioned bright red lips, twitched in a supressed smile, which eventually won over. She said nothing, though, in a kind of bow to the reply itself.

"Yes I like it too...It's the next best thing to a real drink. It'll keep you running for hours." She said this rather quickly, as if simply getting these words aside in order to lay down a recently discovered idea before it was lost, "You live in the city, right?"

"No, I live in the sewer with the ninja turtles," retorted Sefton with a roll of her eyes and extreme sarcasm apparent in her tone. All this prim and proper was beginning to give her a headache. The coffee shop, the waiter, the espresso, Parker Maitland's extremely expensive being, it was all starting to genuinely piss her off. She was usually out on the streets robbing these sorts of people, not sitting amongst them drinking over-priced cocoa bean juice. Honestly, she just wanted some fast cash, not a date with the Queen of corporate scandals.

But Parker absolutely reeked of the mean green and so Sef remained as she was, seat in the upright position and tray table up.

"Get off your fucking high horse, Kid. Need I remind you the only reason you aren't in a jail cell right now is because I didn't want to bother?...Yet..." Parker replied in a momentary rush of true anger. She called everyone 'kid' whether or not they were older or more intelligent, or even more experienced. Sefton's obvious disregard for self-image and self-preservation left Parker feeling malicious and malevolent. "Maybe you do live in the sewers...After all, you certainly look like you do. Anyways, I had a feeling you were from out of town. I was wrong."

The thing about Parker that people didn't understand was that she practically never lied. She never saw the point. Lies laid traps left and right, and the blunt truth could scare people more than anything could. The only problem was that Parker was the pure representation of truth gone too far.

There are two exits at the front, two in the middle and one at the back. Sefton's watery blue eyes drifted like an unmoored dinghi towards the cafe's entrance. The door swung open as a pair of middle-aged women walked into the warmth of the shop. Sef's gaze snapped back to Parker's face and thus she made a very strategic decision. She didn't need this. She had places to go, people to rob and vampires to fuck. Jail or no jail, her life was on the run and she was in the mood to catch up with it before it fell from sight.

In silence Sefton rose from her seat, a vague grin spreading across her face as she placed her fedora upon her head and nodded to the seated Parker as if to say thanks for the espresso. Sef turned around after that, starting towards the door that led to the outside. The real world. The pair of women who had just walked in gave her a strange look as she passed them, exchanging glances and giggling to one another. Sefton kept walking, feeling the frosty handle of the door in her hand as she pulled it open.

"Hey!" Parker called sharply, almost the whole cafe turning their heads to see who she was addressing, and all eyes, it seemed, swiveled to Sefton in assumption. But Parker's brown eyes weren't on Sefton, but rather on the two giggling women standing next to her. Her eyebrows puckered as she looked at them, her expression looked thoroughly irritated as she kept her cold stare on the pair.

"You've got a problem?" She finally asked softly, an eyebrow raising slightly at the women (whose hands by now had fluttered to their hearts as they watched Parker with obvious shock. Tsk, tsk. Youth these days). Parker had no need to raise her voice in order to make herself heard, due to the fact that the cafe was dead silent. Parker said nothing else, but her brown eyes flickered towards Sefton, to whom she gave a slight nod, accompanied with a glare.

She wasn't about to give Sefton full respect just because she stood and walked away mutely. That was just stupid. But she did give the other woman a smidgen of respect when it came to matching up to her. Yet...Parker suspected that she would not have been able to stand much of Sefton either. It was probably better this way...

Besides, there was always a chance they would see each other again...As cell mates.