Ripley regarded Faith with sudden, intense interest, forgetting to blink for show for a little. She squinted thoughtfully. Leaned forward a bit. Sniffed. "Christ, it's me at twentysomething, but hot. Hi there. I'm Ripley."

The pants comment and Ami's reaction made a slow grin cross her face. "These are Emerson's fault, and I'm sure he'd perpetrate snakeskin pants as often as his randy old hands can crank them out.

"We've got someone making leather stuff locally? You're fuckin' kidding me!"

"Nope." Ripley looked a little smug. "Great guy, too. All he asked in return was that I cut him a pimp stick and help him with some guard-duty project he's gonna need later. Something about the garden."

She looked at Ami speculatively; then her grin reappeared and she leaned over to Faith speculatively. "You know...she doesn't have to do kicks. Snakeskin miniskirt?"
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