The look on Lisa's face fell, rather like (to quote the late, great Douglas Adams) 'That crashing trick that icebergs do so spectacularly in the spring.'<br/><br/>"Oh... Um well I s'pose it is a bit late..."<i>What time is it anyway? </i>The mousy young woman glanced around and spotted a clock on the wall. "E- eleven? Huh. Well I admit I was surprised you're still open." She sighed. Then blinked at the accurate guess about this being her first ever tattoo. About to ask a dumb question, she she stopped herself in time.<i>She's used to seeing people who haven't had one before, she pan probably tell a first timer by the amount of time it takes them to pluck up the courage to open that door...! </i><br/><br/>An odd and fleeting expression crossed the tattooists face, too fast for Lisa to catch, and then the petite young woman's mouth almost dropped open in surprise.<i>Did she just ask me out? </i><br/><br/>Lisa blinked a few times and glanced at the clock again, flicked a strand of hair out of her face, and realised she was blushing.<br/><br/>"Um... Okay, sure, although I'll pass on the pie, I've just eaten..." She put a hand on her belly, that was still feeling full from the impressive three-course meal the department had laid on to celebrate someone doing something important somehow. "Um, by the way, I go by Lisa when I can get people to call me that. Or Leece. Only my grandparents and kid brother call me 'Milly', and he only does it to annoy me."<br/><br/>She paused and followed the tattooist from the shop, as she locked it up. "Okay, lead on."