Work Text:
Lilah ran her palm over the scarves scattered on the counter. They were Hermès, elegant and tasteful. Not to mention they'd hide the fact that her head wasn't quite attached any longer. The living were so picky.
"They're tacky. Like something my ninety year old grandmother would wear." Cordelia stood there, arms crossed and giving the latest fall prints a skeptical look.
"Your grandmother has excellent fashion sense." Two living dead girls in Bloomingdale's on the same day? Not a coincidence.
"The Powers That Be would protect you from the Senior Partners. If you wanted."
"Like they protected you?"
"Touché."