Medea<br/>Quincy's, Brooklyn<br/>Early morning<br/><br/>I had tried to wash away the tightness in my body and mind with hot water, but it hadn't worked.  I suppose it could be jet lag, but I know what it really is.  The tightness in the belly, the hammer of my heart, the dry mouth and the need to look down at my feet and hands so I won't have to look up to meet imaginary eyes.  I'm just afraid of seeing her again.  And once named, a fear is powerless.<br/><br/>I like to tell myself that, but it's a lie.  I can't lie to myself as convincingly as I can lie to an audience.<br/><br/>The jet lag is real though.  I'd still be back stage getting ready for my morning show.  Sleeping in the plane didn't help either.  So I'm walking down an alley, headed towards a 'cabaret', dressed to kill - not quite literally, but the heavy, sleep leather and shimmer of silk and glitter of jewelry are comforting, empowering.  The two heavy crystal orbs in my hand dance around each other easily, sliding around each other silently.  My boots tap menacingly along the pavement of the alleyway.<br/><br/>This is the time when the businessmen come out to play, hiding their decadence in shadows and music and indulging their petty vices and making their quiet deals.  Places like this are where the mobsters and the corrupt cops hide themselves away, keeping their dealings to themselves.  It's a place to start seeing faces, learning names, and begin to build a network of contacts and potential tools.<br/><br/>And apparently I'm not the only one interested - a figure, on the fire escape above me.  A watcher, and likely not the sort who would want to steal a wallet or bother a young woman.  The orbs move faster in my hands, seeming to stick to my hand despite their size and me having my hand towards the ground.  The silver of the mask is a bright gleam in the darkness; other than that, only a dark shadow among other dark shadows.<br/><br/>If I wasn't as watchful as that silhouette, I might not have seen the figure.  I'm fairly certain the watcher has seen me; I'm not exactly the most inconspicuous in leather and lace, especially as unusual a design as the dress is of; it would be easy to mistake me for a weird sort of domme, but then, I deal with men and women in power, and they would see a latex costume as laughable; this outfit is too severe to be anything but threatening in an office.<br/><br/>Off course, out here, it's asking for trouble, I suppose, but then, fools are so easy to take by the head and wrap around my finger.  I doubt the watching shadow is any sort of fool....