home_and_away | Bad Faeries. Bad, bad faeries...

"Your boots! Is that really metal?" inquires a lovely redhead standing beside the charming demon we'd met earlier.
"It is," he answers for me, "They were once a street sign, correct?"
"Correct," I reply, turning one toe for general inspection. "Cut and heated and hammered and rolled. Strong enough to stand on; try."
The lass selling ad space in her bodicecollar and I share a smile as she tests her weight on the offered toecap. No stress.
"Was it a STOP sign by chance?" the demon asks. He's leading this for effect; we've had this conversation already.
I turn my grin on him. "No. A YIELD sign."
General laughter.
Brni returns from buying CDs. "She does have her own stop-signs, though," he says, "and I find it's best not to run them."
"Too right," says I, canting an eyebrow and smiling at my friend.
The demon catches up my hand. "Lady," he says, "you have fine taste." He drops a kiss on my knuckles. "And you taste fine as well."
"Darling," I wink, taking back my hand and a step or two of space, "you have no idea."