<span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: comic sans ms;">I let my smoky lenses glasses hide my eyes as they shift around the saloons interior. Noting stairs, the door by the bar, how the tables are arranged, who seems to be packing guns. All the time my stance and posture says, silly blonde girl, no danger at all. The strands of fate weave all around this place and the people, almost making my head hurt as I work my way through who is what strength and who has relics on them.<br/><br/>I learned well in Egypt that just because someone was stronger than a normal human and had fate strands around them didn’t just mean they were friendly. <br/><br/>I step with Kate to the bar and set my rifle to lean against it and stretch sexily pulling the hair pins out and then pulling off my hat with my right hand. Leaning backwards against the bar I smile sweetly at the Ranger and the others as my left hand slides the hair needles back where they belong then hold my hat as I lean sexily backwards, my right hand holding the hat from underneath.<br/><br/>My right hand strokes the grip of the double barreled derringer I hide in my hat.  The derringer is one of several I keep hidden and is reassuring as a just in case measure. I would hate to blow a hole through this hat after Kate had taken such pains to find for me. But when a place feels like this one does and as much fate seems to converging as I can see with the magic, I tend to get nervous and very careful, prudent and smart until we find out who is who and what is going on. <br/><br/>Kate’s eye catches mine and with a subtle nod I let her know I have her covered. As I listen and note what is said…and not said.</span><br/>