The Mistakes and Memories of Edward Townsend

London, England

When Edward opens the door to his apartment one Friday night, he doesn't expect anything but Chinese takeout. The night ahead of him is supposed to be one of food he doesn't have to make himself, bad action movies, and forgetting about work and all the problems the people in it bring.

Instead, he gets a soaking wet, depressed looking Abby Cameron carrying a huge suitcase like she intends to stay awhile.

The words come tumbling out of his mouth in really idiotic fashion. "I thought you were...why are you...You're not Chinese," he finishes stupidly.

"Glad you noticed," Abby says back irritably. "It's raining cats and dogs and probably llamas out there"- she shoves past him into his apartment rudely, leaving him no room to refuse entry-"and I was stuck waiting outside the airport for a damn cab for ever, I tell you. Why don't you say the word 'Hello' when you greet someone? Also, would it kill your building manager to install an elevator or something?!" she adds scathingly. "Seriously," she rants, "I had to drag this thing up five flights of stairs, and do you know how heavy a woman's suitcase can be? We have to lug around makeup and shoes and at least two outfits because you never know if you're going to have enough energy to shave your legs-"

"Okay, alright." Edward waves his hands in a universal "whoa Nelly" gesture because he really doesn't want to hear this. "You're being hysterical, Abigail. You need to calm down."

"OH, AM I BEING HYSTERICAL?!" she screeches, slamming the door with an echoing bang in the very surprised face of a Chinese takeout delivery man. "I can't calm down, Townsend, would you just LISTEN TO ME?!" she yells right in his face as Edward opens the door again and hands cash to the delivery man. Just as the delivery man shoves the plastic bag of food into Edward's outstretched hand and runs off terrified, Abby kicks the door closed with a powerful blow, grabs Edward by the collar of his button-down shirt, and shakes him back and forth like a rag doll. "ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME?!" she hollers in a tone that would have the neighbors complaining, gossiping, or both tomorrow.

Edward chokes out a raspy "Yes."

"Okay." She steps back, lets go of him, and sniffs the air appreciatively. "Do I smell lo mein?"

He points to his tiny living room with the couch he didn't think he was going to share tonight. "You're going to explain everything. Now."

It doesn't take much to convince Abby to accept the invitation. She strips off her jacket, boots, and socks quickly and retreats into the living room with the bag of food while he brings her suitcase to his bedroom; he'd force her to take his bed and he'd sleep on the couch, no arguments. The moment he walks back in, however, she's not in the living room but in the kitchen, scoping out his refrigerator.

"You don't have any alcohol," she remarks with a sad pout.

Edward is suddenly very glad he didn't buy that bottle of wine at the market today.

She huffs, not waiting for his reply, and slams his refrigerator closed. "What type of spy doesn't have alcohol?"

"One who doesn't watch too many James Bond movies," Edward replies lightly. "Have you been watching a lot of those lately?" He guides her by the shoulders to the living room, and watches her crash wearily on the forest green sofa cushions. "Are you okay?" he asks concernedly.

"Do I look like I'm okay?" Dramatically, she throws an arm out and presses the back of her hand to her forehead like a fair maiden about to faint. "I do, right?"

Edward finds it very lucky that whatever this traumatic event is has not taken the snark out of Abigail Cameron. He sits next to her, just close enough for her comfort- her arm brushes his, and he can feel the shock of electricity through the fabric of his shirt- but not too close that he's being creepy (but he's having his doubts). Taking a pair of bamboo chopsticks and carton of noodles out of the bag, he nudges Abby gently and places the food in her hands.