Snippet #1041721

Lizzie pondered whether she should tell the truth to Greg - the problem was that Greg was a snitch, but it was usually against crooks. Would he tell the men in black that had done this to her for a price? She really didn't think so, but she couldn't be sure. And when you had a secret like hers, it was smart not to blab about it. Biting her lip and frowning, she wondered how she would withdrawl any information from the man in her current state. Even if she was an adult, or at least a young adult in mental capacities, she certainly wasn't in the physical ones. "This could be problematic." she muttered to herself. And then she got an idea - what if she explained herself as a 'go-between' between Lily, who was 'working on a difficult case'? That would certainly work!

The smoke almost choked her as soon as she opened the door, and she wiped away the tears that came to her eyes from the intensity of the booze and cigar smoke. Geez, had it gotten stronger since she'd been in here? Well, it had been a little while, she supposed, and as a non-smoker, this place was hazardous for her health. But so was what she did for a living. Being a detective didn't exactly shout out a life of longevity, after all, but she loved what she did, and would probably do it for the remainder of her life. Not to mention she was pretty darned good at detective work and solving puzzles.

She saw that Greg was wearing his standard outfit of a suit complete with a tie, and looked sharp. The 'mafia' outfit suited him to a t. Some people were afraid of the man, but Lily had always thought of him as an older lion who was still in his prime. Probably even more so than he was when he was younger. The pub was his jungle, and the wrong doers were his prey. He was a heck of an informant, and helped most of the detectives around. Not to mention he'd solved a LOT of cases, probably as many as a retired P.I.'s.

She just hoped that she was disguised enough that he wouldn't realize that she looked precisely like the seventeen year old Lily Evans, only smaller, and much, much younger. She normally just wore her uniform everywhere, or maybe jeans on the weekends with a tee shirt and flip flops - rarely ever a dress. Not because she hated dresses, in fact, she liked them - it was only her usual activities that kept her from wearing them often. But she supposed that could be part of her new 'Lizzie Wardrobe'. Maybe she could get some contacts or something to separate that feature from her old self as well. She gave Greg a bright smile before coming over and plopping into a barstool, the one closest to the middle on the right, her old spot. "Hello." she greeted the older - much older than she was now - man in the suit. "Do you have any juice?" she asked while trying to come up with a way to strike up the conversation about any cases.