Miss Dynamite, Episode IV and Last

(My thanks again to KTBB for allowing me to share these.)

November 7, 2007. Miss Dynamite inspected the fire-engine red of her lips with satisfaction. It had been a long time since she'd been undercover -- though it seemed like just last night that Norman Conquest had been trying to get under her covers. Probably because it had been just last night. She checked the chambers in her .45. Harry Potter done, and the sad sack was still looking for a bit of magic. Good thing she didn't need Veritaserum to see through him. She flipped her new bob, put on her FMBs, and tightened the belt on her trenchcoat. “Empire State Building, and step on it,” she told the black-and-yellow.

The observation deck was thumping as she worked her way through the crowd. (Was that Tony in the corner playing turtledove to not-Mrs.-Lane? Men.) She found her quarry sipping a neat gin—not quite tall, dark, and handsome, but tall, bespectacled, and English would certainly do. She pushed back a blonde tress and gave him a come-hither. His gin may be neat, but she could be neater. He came hithe.

“Of all the Book Expo parties in all the city, you walked into mine,” said a voice at her back.

Damn. This was no time for sad sacks (although she could use a bit of the old 1066 on the English don right quick). She put a boot in a tight spot to shut up Norman and tilted her head at the quarry. He took the hint. Soon they were all alone, high above 34th Street, with the lights below glittering like Mrs. Astor's insurance policy.

“So, Philip,” said Miss Dynamite, pocketing a key and pouring a bit of the good stuff, “ever thought about who you'd like to work with after The Book of Dust?”

Behind them, Norman pounded on the glass door, but she only shrugged and rolled her eyes. It was the Empire State Building, after all—and just another big hairy ape beating his chest.