Maggie woke up in the morning and wobbled out of her bed. She glanced at the mirror. Her sleeping bra was hanging weirdly, letting her left boob escape. Her panties were inside out and about three sizes too large. She grimaced and poked at her waist. "Crap, I need to start doing something to this or I don't dare step out of this house come summer. I look like a potato!"
She ran her fingers through her hair. It was slightly curly and light brown, not quite on the blonde territory, but about there; leaning on the doorframe and asking for free helpings, if nothing else. It reached down to her boobs, and in the mornings like now, it looked like there were three heads worth of it and it had decided to abandon this one and head to every direction possible.
Maggie looked at her mirror image in frustration, her dark brown eyes looking almost black in the dim light. She reached for the comb and attacked her hair with vigor. After fifteen minutes, and more cursing than a sailor deep in the drink on a Friday evening, Maggie walked into the kitchen, dressed in blue jeans, a black t-shirt and her hair was -- if not artfully, then at least decently -- done up in a sort-of ponytail, sort-of topknot combination.
She put her hands on her hips and looked around. Sighing, she picked up a fork, opened the fridge and took out a ready-made chicken salad and sat down at the table. She glanced at the salad and grimaced. "Two days past the use-before date," she grumbled quietly. "Eh, I think it's good enough." She opened the package and poked her fork into it and watched the salad burst into flames and explode all over the table and around the kitchen.
Charred chicken bits landed on the counter and on her t-shirt. With a dead-pan expression, she lowered the fork on the table, closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, counting to ten before letting it out slowly.
"Kira," she huffed, falsely quiet. "Was this a life and death situation?"
Next to her, Kira - in all of her naked glory -- walked to her side and shrugged nervously.
"Salmonella...?" The demon suggested quietly and sat down, wiping some bits of chicken-turned-ash from the table, and looked at Maggie with a sheepish smile on her lips. Her bright yellow eyes glowed slightly, and her jet-black hair fell on her shoulders in thick locks of soft curls.
Maggie sighed hard, then smiled widely. She ruffled Kira's hair and then drew her finger across the demon's cheek. "I can't be mad at you, Kira. You're so goddamn cute. But you really do need to start thinking before you do..." She waved her hand vaguely at the table and the kitchen in general, few bits and pieces of ex-chicken everywhere. "... anything like this."
"I just want to keep you safe," Kira shrugged, grinning.
Maggie shook her head and chuckled. "I can't argue with that, Kira," she said. "But I still need to eat something. I guess I'll have to stop on the way and grab a lunch from the fast-food place."
She stood up. "Kira. Promise me," she continued, looking at the demon. "ONLY in life and death situations! ONLY!" Kira merely grinned at her shyly in response.
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