Stacey 1: Finding Peter

Click.

Click click.

Nothing happened. The room remained dark.

"Fuck" muttered Stacey, kicking the door shut with her foot. It was quiet in her apartment. A ray of sunlight peeked around the curtain, illuminating a narrow wedge of the small room. Stacey carefully made her way across to the window and yanked aside the curtain, flooding the room with the orange glow of the setting Arizona sun.

Stacey leaned against the windowsill and ran her fingers through her long blonde hair, watching the sun slowly sink. No electricity meant no air conditioning, and living without A/C in Phoenix was at best ill advised, which is why Stacey was planning to move, perhaps someplace cooler and with better job prospects.

At least it was mercifully cool at night. Stacey opened the window as the fire bled away from the sky and the sound of insects crescendoed. It was her last night in Phoenix and she wanted to do something fun in the city. Maybe she might meet someone who would give her a reason to stay. Stacey wasn't the type of girl to hang around bars, but she decided to take a chance anyway.

Stacey decided to take a shower before heading out. A day of driving around in the heat had left her dirty and sweaty and she ached to be rid of her bra for a while. Luckily the hot water was communal, and even though it was completely dark in the bathroom, Stacey enjoyed her shower immensely.

After towelling off and drying her hair, Stacey put on a bright red thong and a matching bra. It wasn't very comfortable, but she secretly hoped she might find someone to take them off for her later that night. A form-fitting pair of jeans and a rather tight white T-shirt completed her outfit. Stacey tied her hair into a ponytail before driving into the city.

"Hey Stacey, long time no see!"

Mike, the bartender's voice rang out, even over the din of the pub.

"Hey Mike. How'ya been?"

"Same old same old. You?"

"Lost my job; it's not going well," replied Stacey, plopping herself heavily onto one of the stools.

"Sorry to hear that. Tell you what, first one's on the house" said Mike, grabbing a glass.

"Stacey?"

Both Mike and Stacey looked around to see who it was.

"Peter? Is that really you?"

"No way! I didn't at all expect to find you here," exclaimed Peter.

"Mike, this is Peter, a friend of mine from college," explained Stacey. "Boyfriend, actually... er, ex-boyfriend, I suppose."

"It's okay. I'm not taken," said Peter. "Nice to meet you Mike."

"Likewise. Something I can get for you?"

"A beer should be fine. Same as Stacey."

Mike expertly filled a glass for Peter and graciously went off to tend to other patrons.

"So, what's new?" asked Stacey. "Are you still doing magic?"

"I'd like to, but it's been rough. Gran passed away recently."

Stacey gasped. "Sorry to hear that."

"In her will, she left me all of my grandfathers stage props and a little cash to get me started as a performing magician. I have a truck, too, but I just can't find any good assistants. They're just not as good as you or Amanda."

Stacey stared at Peter for a moment.

"Would you ... like to -- I mean, can you -- be my assistant again?"

Stacey broke into an enormous grin. "Yes, Peter! Oh, yes!"